On The Way
Chapter Eight
An Aoshi/Misao Fanfic
Disclaimer: All rights and ownership to Nobuo Watsuki and official companies. This is a work of fiction.
…
Okina, Aoshi, and Misao sat in Okina's office enjoying a private lunch away from the Aoiya patrons.
"Did you complete everything at the temple?" Misao asked the men.
"We did. There is a nice sunny spot on the hill," Okina smiled at the girl. "There are some preparations left, but the burial service will be the day after tomorrow."
"Alright," Misao replied. It wouldn't be a regular burial, but Misao knew the monks would do what they could to make it proper. "What about the headstone?"
"There is someone who is willing to do the work, but it'll take some time," Okina reassured her. Stone carving could take a while with all the names. "Now, tell me what happened in Tokyo."
Between bites of food, Misao regaled Okina of Yukishiro Enishi's revenge plot against Kenshin and the various things that happened.
"It's a good thing I sent you with her, Aoshi," Okina said smugly. "You were of help to Himura."
"Yes, he was!" Misao insisted when Aoshi stayed silent. "We wouldn't have known Kaoru-san was still alive if it wasn't for Aoshi-sama. And he helped find the island and fought that weird bodyguard guy."
Aoshi mentioned nothing of his fight with Gein. How, even though he thought he was willing to put all his effort into the fight, how he would end is role as Okashira, it would not be through his death. With a sidelong glance down to Misao, Aoshi also did not mention how he refused to die because of her.
Okina watched the younger man intently. Meanwhile, Misao ate, blissfully unaware of the multiway staring contest.
"So, anything exciting happen while we were gone?" Misao asked, trying to restart the conversation.
Okina talked of their daily life at the Aoiya, but as soon as they were done eating, they all went about their day separately.
The journey home finally caught up with Misao and she slept in the next day, rising with the sun already peeking over the horizon. She rushed about, trying to make up for lost time.
"Misao-chan, it's okay," Okon told her as Misao ran up to help serve breakfast to the customers.
To be honest, Misao was lost. She spent her youth trying to train so she could fight and find Aoshi. Now that he was home and there were no battles looming over them, Misao was facing a crisis her companions already went through. Leaving fights behind and finding a peaceful life to live.
"Okon," Misao held the sleeve of the older woman. "Let me help."
The woman looked down at the struggling girl and gave her a hug.
"Of course, Misao-chan. I welcome it."
Misao spent the day in a strange daze.
The following day, Misao donned her uniform and accompanied the Aoiya staff and Aoshi up to the temple. They closed the Aoiya services temporarily, explaining to their customers about having a family situation, so they could all attend.
Misao stood in front of Okon and Omasu as the monk had Aoshi lower the box of remains into the prepared hole. While the others shed tears, Aoshi and Misao watched on with dry faces.
"We're heading back," Okina told Aoshi with a pat on the shoulder. "Don't stay too long."
"Aah."
"Misao-chan?"
"I'll stay here for a while," Misao told Omasu as they tried to pull her away.
When they were alone, Misao stepped closer to Aoshi's side and squatted in front of the freshly turned dirt. Pressing her palms together, she bowed her head and talked silently with the deceased. She rambled mindlessly for a while, avoiding her real question. Finally, with a sigh, she asked with her heart, 'Is it okay to move forward?'
Her eyes cracked open to see the dwindling stump of incense. Quite a bit of time had passed. She hadn't expected an answer, so she stood and asked herself, 'It is okay, right?'
"Misao."
She turned to see Aoshi watching her. With a hesitant step, she reached out for his crossed arms. He opened them and let Misao lean against him. Her hands held the fabric of his clothes tightly, but she didn't hug him.
"Thank you, Aoshi-sama. For bringing us home," Misao spoke into his chest. She wasn't sure what she was feeling. Her heart felt a calm emptiness. She had Aoshi back, and the others had closure. There were no more reasons for her to run around the country anymore.
"Aoshi-sama?"
"Yes, Misao?"
She let go and stepped away.
"I heard," Misao looked up into his eyes, "that you told Jiiya you left me here in Kyoto in hopes that I would live a normal life. Is that true?"
"Aah."
"What did you mean by 'a normal life'? What did you picture?"
Aoshi pondered. He had dozens, hundreds, of conversations with his comrades over the years. Well, not really conversations. They talked, he sulked. Shikijou and Beshimi used to make up grand adventures they thought Misao went on. Hyottoko pictured her as a demure lady who helped in the Aoiya and made customers smile. Hannya thought she would do exactly what it sounded like she actually did. Trained as an onmitsu, helped with the Aoiya, and waited for her family to come home.
But what had Aoshi pictured? He had only known what the life of an onmitsu was, he didn't know what it meant to have a normal life.
"I suppose," Aoshi paused. "I pictured you learning to help at the Aoiya. Learning how to cook and clean. How to work with customers and vendors. Learn to read and write well and do proper calculations. And to have peaceful times with other children your own age, playing and having fun."
"Playing with people my age?" Misao repeated. She tapped her chin. Then scratched her head. Then crossed her arms and closed her eyes as she thought. "Hm… Nope, I didn't do much of that. I did help at the Aoiya, obviously. I cook, clean, sew, read, write, calculate, also I can sharpen knives, do basic construction, survive in the wild, drink, gamble, steal…"
Aoshi frowned at her laundry list of skills. Not all of them were skills a woman should have or need in the Meiji era.
"What, Aoshi-sama? You're frowning. I also know how to dance. I helped with some of the festival groups a few years ago when one of their dancers was injured."
"Misao, don't you have friends your age?"
"Sure, I have Kaoru-san."
"Friends that you have here; that you grew up with?"
Misao shuffled her feet. She had the posture of a person who was reluctant to answer.
"Misao?" Aoshi pushed her.
"I did! When I was younger. But they didn't like me. They said I was unfair since I always won the games," Misao confessed. "I ended up fighting the boys because they got angry. I never went back to play with them. Being with adults was easier. I was used to it. I prefer it."
She looked up at him, her wide eyes showing him the truth of her childhood.
"I tried, Aoshi-sama. When I badgered Jiiya to tell me why you left, he told me you wanted me to have a normal life. So I tried. But it didn't work. So I changed to how I felt most comfortable."
Aoshi looked down, realization dawning on him. He had an inkling when he heard her crying that night they arrived at Kamiya Dojo and thought Kaoru was dead. 'My cheerfulness is my personal strength,' Misao had told Yahiko. It wasn't just her 'personal strength,' it was a mask to give her strength; to live each day. Hannya may have worn a physical mask, but Misao wore a figurative one just as easily.
"Misao. Were you happy?"
She looked at him. How could he expect her to answer that? She grew up, loved by others, never needing anything, and had experienced joy and comfort. How could she say 'no' and hurt them? But how could she lie and say 'yes'?
"I," Misao started. "I have had happy moments. I was comfortable. But how could I be happy, how could I even be content if you weren't there? Aoshi-sama, you…"
She faded, unable to form the words to indicate the complex web of emotion she felt.
"I, what, Misao?"
"You are… integral to my existence. I was able to live because I had a goal to find you. To find you all, but you, Aoshi-sama, most importantly. Now you're back, and it's good, but we aren't the same. And we can't be what we were before. But I don't know…who I am anymore. I don't know who I am to you. I don't know who I am to myself. And I'm scared and confused and I want to be happy, but I don't know if I'm allowed," Misao slowly fell into a flurry of words, her jumble of emotions flowing out without filter. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she was trying to tell herself not to reveal everything, but she was an avalanche that wouldn't be stopped. "Aoshi-sama, will you help me grow up?"
There were several things Misao could have meant, ranging from the innocent to the sinful.
"What do you mean? Precisely." Aoshi figured to get her meaning in plain words.
"I realize I have been stagnant for ten years. It's obvious in how I dress and style my hair. But I think it would be better, it would help me, if you did it." Misao held up her braid. "Will you cut it for me?"
Aoshi almost sighed in relief, knowing that she wasn't thinking of some extreme definition to her words.
"You look relieved, Aoshi-sama," Misao read his unchanging body language. "Did you think I was going to ask you to have sex with me?"
Misao laughed as he widened his eyes at her directness.
"Ah, you're getting easier to read, Aoshi-sama. It means you're relaxing a bit now. So," she turned back to the real question, "will you help me?"
"If it's cutting your hair, it should be fine."
"Good. Are you ready to go home, then?"
"Aah."
Misao turned to the grave. "We'll see you later," she promised before skipping down the path.
Aoshi watched her go before turning to bow his head to the grave. He whispered softly, "Thank you, friends, for giving me this chance. I will protect her for all of us."
"Aoshi-sama!" Misao called out from the top of the stairs. "We have to hurry, I just remembered Shiro said he was going to make sekihan. If we don't hurry, there won't be any left!"
"I'm sure they would save some for you." Aoshi doubted the caretakers would eat all the special red-bean sticky rice, knowing how much Misao liked it.
"Jiiya always steals from me," Misao countered.
But Aoshi walked at his regular pace and Misao didn't run ahead.
Shiro had hidden the sekihan away until Misao returned, so she was able to have her proper portion. Purposely putting Aoshi between her and Okina ensured that none of her food was stolen.
That night, Misao thoroughly washed and combed her hair before knocking on Aoshi's door.
"Come in."
"Do you have some time, Aoshi-sama?" Misao held up a pair of scissors.
"Aah." Aoshi patted the floor in front of him.
Misao sat in the indicated spot and wrapped a towel around her shoulders and over Aoshi's lap to catch the fallen hair.
"Are you sure?" Aoshi asked once.
"Yes, Aoshi-sama, I'm sure."
Aoshi gathered her long hair into his hand and carefully clipped through it. He cut off quite a bit, but left enough room for Okon or Omasu to make it a proper style later.
After the final clip, Aoshi ran his fingers over her lush hair to see how it turned out.
"All done." He took the fabric from her shoulders and folded up her hair inside it as she moved away to play with her shorn locks.
"Thank you, Aoshi-sama," Misao smiled. She felt relief tingle across her neck as the weight of her childhood dream dissipated from her shoulder. Reaching out, she took the towel and scissors from Aoshi. "Good night, Aoshi-sama, I'll see you tomorrow."
The next day, Misao's appearance had everyone in an uproar.
"M-Mi-Misao-chan? Your hair! Your clothes! What happened?"
Okon and Omasu ran over to her and made such a ruckus that Shiro and Kuro snuck out of the kitchen to see.
"Eheh, is it too much of a shock?" Misao tugged at the waist of her hakama and checked her sleeves. "Nagamine-san said it was the appropriate style for my age and status, but…"
"Okina-san!" Omasu ran to get the older man for his opinion.
"Misao! Your hair, how could you do it?" Okina came in, shocked at the news.
"Shh, people are still trying to sleep," Misao chided and moved everyone into the kitchen where it was quieter. "Jiiya, you've been wanting me to grow up for a while now. And, now, I'm ready to do just that. Himura kept saying when I first met him that I didn't dress right for my age. I ignored it," she also ignored her tendency towards violence whenever he mentioned it, "but it has become obvious that I can't go running around like that anymore."
"Misao-chan, did somebody come onto you on your trip?" Omasu yelled in concern. Kuro had to hold her back while Okina spoke.
"Well, I'm happy, Misao," Okina said, teary eyed as he put his hands on her shoulder. He looked over her new ensemble. "But, aren't you a little too cute? Are you trying to impress Aoshi?"
"What? I'm doing this for myself, Jiiya!" Misao corrected him.
"Ooh, you're going to make him jealous, then?"
"Ugh, why are you even saying things like that?" Misao pushed away and went to stir the soup that was cooking. "It's just the right time to move on."
"I see," Okina looked at Misao's back. Her change coinciding with the burial of her comrades was no mere chance. It took a lot of strength to move away from a familiar past onto an unknown future and Okina approved her effort.
"Back to work," Okon said as Okina left the room.
"Let's tie back your sleeves," Shiro said as he gave Misao a cord to hold back her long sleeves.
Aoshi said nothing about Misao's appearance when she brought his breakfast to his room. She went to his room again after lunch with tea.
"Aoshi-sama?"
"Yes, Misao?"
"Are you upset that I didn't find Enishi's base in the Arakawa warehouse? I heard from Saitou's men it was there on the boat ride to the island." Misao sat, crossing her legs and wrinkling her new clothes. "If I was better, I should have at least found it."
"Misao, you were never trained to be an operative. You were never supposed to be in that sort of situation. In contrast, I am relieved that you didn't find it and that they didn't find you."
Pushing an errant strand of hair behind her ear, Misao sadly nodded. She was a burden to Aoshi. She never would have been with him if she was a proper agent of the Oniwabanshuu because she was incapable of completing assignments. She was older than when he became leader, far older than when many agents joined the field. If she wasn't any good to him as a spy, then what could she be to him at all?
"Misao, you did well. Better than I could hope. Especially since I never wanted you to have to do anything like that," Aoshi reassured her. "I'm also glad that you were not injured while we were there."
"I didn't even get to fight a proper fight. Just a bunch of bums when I went with Yahiko to see Himura." Misao rocked backwards. "At least I helped a little. Though, you could have done it on your own."
"I had nothing to throw. We would never have gotten to the island in one piece without you."
Misao shook her head. Not to refute his words, but in her disbelief that he would bother to spend words to comfort her at all.
"Aoshi-sama, I promised Himura, but," she leaned forward, "is it okay for me to try? To get you to smile, I mean."
"Would you listen if I said no?"
Misao smiled. "I respect you, Aoshi-sama. But I won't take your orders so easily if I don't like them."
Aoshi didn't take defeats easily, but how easy it was to be defeated by Misao's smile. It was his turn to shake his head in bewilderment.
"I'll see you later, Aoshi-sama," Misao hopped up and scurried from his room.
As autumn settled in, so too did Misao's routine. She worked more regularly in the Aoiya, played less outside, and spent more time with Aoshi. Most days, she brought tea and some sort of quiet task to work on while Aoshi read or meditated.
"Aoshi-sama, I brought tea," Misao announced and set the steaming cup beside him. She also handed him a flyer. "There's a new theater show next week. Will you come with me to see it?"
He looked into her hopeful face.
"Alright."
"Really? Yay!" Misao threw her arms around his shoulders for a squeeze before she was up and bouncing away to call into the courtyard below, "Shiro! You have to pay up. Aoshi-sama said he'll go!"
"Ah, man, seriously? I thought it was a sure bet!" Shiro called back up.
"Goes to show I know Aoshi-sama better!"
Aoshi and Misao did go to the theater the next week. And afterwards, Misao convinced him to take the long path to see the maple trees that turned the scenery into a picture of gold and crimson.
"Isn't it pretty, Aoshi-sama?" Misao ran between the trees to surround herself in the rich colors.
"Aah," Aoshi agreed.
But he wasn't looking at the scenery.
…
Author's Notes: Sekihan is a dish made with red beans and mochi (glutinous) rice, traditionally (at least in my family) for special occasions. It would be considered a treat, which is why Misao is worried that she would miss out on it, because it's rare to have.
If you haven't seen Misao's final look you can do a google image search for "Haru ni Sakura" to see the style. Misao wears a kimono/yukata top with a hakama bottom. I, personally can't tell if it's the pants style or the skirt style, but either way, it gives Misao the mobility I think she likes. Also "Haru ni Sakura" shows her with shorter hair.
See you next time in the final chapter!
