Long time no see readers. It's been a while.
Guess that means it's time for apologies and excuses…
First let me say that this part was FREAKIN HARD TO FREAKIN WRITE. Sure, I was all excited when Baka and I planned it out, but when it came time for me to sit down and actually write it, I couldn't. I couldn't decide what I wanted to happen: kiss or no kiss? Whatever choice I picked would leave a huge impact in the story and either one would send it in very different directions. Maybe it was all that pressure…or writers block…whatever it was, I just haven't had the heart to sit down and write this. Until now. So sit back and enjoy and I hope the part is worth the agonizingly long wait I put you through.
Till Death Do Us Part
Part 20 (by shinsei)
Misao smirked as she watched Soujiro slowly walk out of the room to find Katana. The pieces of her plan were falling into place; she was amazed at how easy the entire ordeal was turning out to be. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Soujiro's distant form vanish from site. As if on cue, Misao rose to her feet and traced Soujiro's steps toward the door, but stopped short. Turning back to face the others, she found their eyes locked on her, expectant.
Since when do I need an excuse to leave the room, Misao thought, slightly annoyed. This delay could throw off the entire scheme. Driven by the sole desire to get out of there as soon as possible, she blurted out the first thought that came to mind.
"I gotta…uh, pee."
The others continued to stare back at her, as if to say, That the best you can come up with?
Of course, she couldn't help but notice Aoshi-sama's eyebrow arch delicately at her cleverly choice of words. …or the way those endless blue eyes she could so easily lose herself in stared at her through a curtain of messy black hair.
Was her throat always so dry? When did her palms get so sweaty?
Misao cast those pointless thoughts out her mind as her gaze shifted downward, toward Aoshi-sama's chest. His thin robe hung open very slightly, but enough so to allow Misao an eyeful of the hard muscles underneath. And if she stained, she could see lower still, toward those tone, sexy abs—
"…Misao?"
Misao immediately snapped back to reality. She swiftly moved her gaze from Aoshi-sama to Kaoru. She prayed the others didn't notice the heat she felt in her cheeks.
Kaoru, looking rather confused, jabbed her thumb over shoulder toward the door on the opposite side of the room. "Uh…the bathroom is…that way."
The new bit of information took a moment to fully sink in. This called for another brilliant excuse on the weasel girl's part.
"Well," Misao began in a matter-of-fact voice as she slowly backed up toward the door, "I, uh…like to pee in, uh…bushes." Misao turned and sprinted out the door after Soujiro.
Kaoru exchanged a worried look with the others. As they watched Misao's retreating form in the distance, they couldn't shake a sinking feeling that something horrible was about to happen.
Karma is a bitch.
And, quite frankly, rather unfair. After all, who had ferociously murdered her family, impaled her through the stomach, and haunted her dreams night after horrendous night? Surely that was enough to outweigh all the murder plots she constantly schemed in her mind. Surely this wasn't really happening to her.
Yet against all odds, there she was, facing hell itself, taking the form of the worst possible fate imaginable.
To kiss Soujiro.
As she looked over at Soujiro, she saw the same utter shock reflected on his face from her own. But unlike her own stunned expression, which was laden with disgust, his was different. It had the same level of surprise and alarm, but there was a slight undertone of something altogether different. Something…pleasant. As if some part of his mind had somehow found a way to enjoy this moment.
That subtle hint of pleasure in his eyes was more then enough to send her skyrocketing over the edge. In one quick, fluid motion, her sword was drawn, the metallic ring from the blade still hanging in the air. She expected a flinch, maybe a drawing of his own sword, but Soujiro stood unchanged, his eyes still locked on hers.
Instead of going in for the kill as planned out in her mind, her body took control and eliminated that option. It insisted on her leaning—not lunging—forward, ridding the both of them of those few bothersome inches that separated her lips from his.
She felt her body move of its own accord, drawing her closer to her impending doom. Her mind screamed for her to raise her sword end it all right there. She tried to do so, but the only movement she got out of her arm was a wobbling motion that resulting in her blade tumbling out of her hand and landing on the ground with a dull thump.
By now, the space between them had all but vanished. She felt Soujiro's hot breath on her face, and she felt her own breathing hitch. As her eyes slowly slid shut, she felt a peaceful calm come over her body. A gentle whisper in her ear that told this was right, this was as it should be.
Then suddenly, a new feeling overtook her, catching her completely off guard; a feeling she never thought she would experience, and toward him of all people. It was the need. An overpowering, intoxicating yearning for him, for the caress of his lips against her own, for the touch of his fingertips on hers, for the sensation of his skin upon her skin.
But you hate him, a gentle voice murmured in the back of her mind.
No, she whispered back, I don't.
Sano shuffled down the deserted hallway, flexing his sore right hand. As it always did every few weeks, his hand had begun throbbing. His first thought, of course, was to find Megumi. But after the morning's mistletoe madness, he had decided to evade trouble by staying away from everyone. Choosing between female wrath that seemed to be associated with the dangling weed and a sore hand, Sano opted for the latter. He would suck up the pain any day rather than face Megumi in a bad mood.
Turning a corner, Sano ran straight into none other than the very vixen he had so desperately wanted to avoid. With her medicine box clutched tightly in her hands and a sour look on her face, Sano decided it would be best to just ignore and go around her. He stepped beside her and began to go around when the doctor's hand shot out and grabbed his right wrist, yanking it towards her face.
"You've been practicing that wretched two-layers technique, haven't you?" She glared up at him.
Sano shrugged innocently. "You know how my hand is. It always starts hurting every few weeks or so."
Megumi gave him a dry look. "That's because you keep using it. It wouldn't hurt if you'd actually listen to what I tell you." She released his wrist and began digging through her medicine chest. "What were you doing sneaking around the dojo anyway?" She glanced up briefly to cast a suspicious look. "I haven't seen you all day. No one has."
Sano sighed, leaning up against the wall beside her. "That was my plan. I didn't want to get all caught up in all that mistletoe crap." He raised his chin slightly and chuckled slightly. Figures…
Megumi took his hand in both her own and slowly dribbled a thick, gooey substance on his hand. "Really? I would have thought you'd want to be in the thick of all that chaos."
Sano watched her carefully start wrapping his hand in fresh bandages. "Women in situations like that…you know, fighting over some guy, are the times I choose to avoid them."
Megumi snorted. "Never thought you could be that wise Sano. Never mess with a woman fighting over a man," she let out a slow breath, "especially when she's lost." She finished tying off the bandage before repacking her medicine box and turned to go.
Without thinking, Sano reached out and grabbed Megumi's arm, spinning her around to face him. Before she could figure out what was happening, Sano leaned down and lightly pressed his lips against hers.
Almost before it had started, it ended, leaving Megumi wide-eyed, her medicine chest clanging to the ground. A small smile spread across his face and he gestured up above them. Megumi managed to recover enough to glance upward at the little piece of mistletoe dangling over her. Her eyes quickly snapped back to Sano, who was already making his way down the hallway.
"To ward off bad luck," He called to her over his shoulder. "So maybe next time, you won't lose." Another corner, and he was gone.
A moment later, Megumi managed to retrieve her fallen box. As she turned to go, her fingers lightly brushed against her lips, which were curved into the slightest smile.
Traitor.
The word hissed in her mind, sending a jolt through her body. Suddenly and image flashed in her mind; a field of hundreds stood before her, their bodies drenched in blood and faces silhouetted. Four figures stood apart from the rest before her, with faces she could see, could recognize. Her family. Their faces were dark and cold, glaring down at her. Taro took a step toward her.
Traitor, he hissed.
Katana immediately snapped her eyes open and screamed. She thrust her hands out in front of her, shoving Soujiro back away from her. She brought her shaking hands to her face and felt the tears that stained her cheeks. Without another thought, she sprinted down the hill.
Her mind was a torrent of thoughts, all swirling around so fast it made her dizzy. Her vision blurred from the tears that filled her eyes. The single word echoed over and over in her mind. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor...
"Katana!"
She raised her arm and swung it back, connecting it with whatever had called her name. She didn't stop running. She didn't stop crying. And the word didn't stop echoing.
Wearily, she crawled on her hands and knees over to the water's edge and peered down as her reflection peered up.
"What's happening to me?" she whispered, her voice cracking.
Her reflection shook her head, as if just as disguised with her as her family had been in her mind.
Her entire life had been devoted to hunting down the monsters that had slaughtered her family. Every day she trained for the day she would kill them. Every day she planned out how they would suffer for their sins. Every day of her life was dedicated to one simple, solitary task. Revenge.
Then, as if a gift from the gods, the sinner was practically hand-delivered to her. Her mission, her goal, her life was about to be achieved with just the swing of her swords. Her family would finally be avenged and she could rest in peace knowing they would be smiling happily down on her from the next world.
Now they were disowning her. What use was such a weak girl to them? She had the chance—many chances—to avenge their murders, all of which were pitifully ruined by her own foolishness. She was useless to them, because she couldn't do it. She couldn't kill the murderer. She couldn't kill the person she swore to loathe for all eternity. She couldn't kill Soujiro.
Katana slowly pulled out the knife she kept concealed in her robe. Slowly, she unsheathed it. Slowly, she pressed the cool blade against the warm skin of her wrist.
"I have no more reason to live…" she cried softly. Swiftly, she yanked and the blade slashed, slicing into skin, blood splattering out. A few droplets landed on her face, which was contorted into shock.
"What do you think you're doing!" Soujiro demanded, the blade gripped firmly in his hand. Blood trickled down the hilt onto Katana's shaking hand. He sunk down beside her on his knees, gently pulling the knife out of her firm grasp. His eyes locked onto her wrist, where a small cut was slowly dribbling blood. Sighing, he ripped his sleeve and used the cloth the bandage the small wound.
"Katana." Soujiro's voice was soft and tired. "Why would you try and do something like that?"
She took a shaky breath. "I…I'm useless. I need to avenge my family…and I can't even do that…" she trailed off, struggling to hold the tears in.
Suddenly, Soujiro yanked out his blade. Alarmed, Katana jumped to her feet. Soujiro rose just as quickly and grabbed her hand, thrusting the hilt into her grip. Stepping closer to her, he rested the edge of the blade against his throat.
"Kill me," he said, his voice quiet. "If that will give you reason to live, then I gladly give you mine." His eyes slid shut and he took slow breaths, as if meditating.
Katana's palms felt slick as she gripped the hilt. Soujiro stood perfectly still, eyes closed, waiting for her to end his life. She took a deep breath…and tossed the sword to the ground. Soujiro's eyes snapped open, a mixed look of surprise and confusion on his face. Katana reached out and grabbed Soujiro's hand. With her teeth, she tore off part of her sleeve and slowly began wrapping his deep wound.
"If I killed you," Katana whispered softly, and Soujiro had to strain to hear, "I would be nothing better than…Shishio, wouldn't I?" She raised her eyes to meet his. "I would be a murderer." She tied the cloth, but didn't release his hand. "I've decided," she smiled at him. "I'm not going to kill you. I…can't kill you."
Soujiro returned her smile.
"But," Katana's smile slowly turned into a smirk, "That doesn't mean you're off the hook. You still have to pay for what you did."
"Of course," Soujiro said, relief pouring through his body. "I'll make it up to you. I promise."
Katana nodded curtly and walked toward the dojo, pulling him along after her. "That's good, cause I haven't done a single one of my chores since I got here and they're starting to pile up…"
"Hey!" Katana suddenly turned to face him, an excited look on his face. "You fought Kenshin, right? You can help train me for when I fight him!"
Soujiro shrugged, "Sure, I gue—" Katana didn't let him finish before she let out a joyous shout and continued dragging him back to the dojo.
"So…how was the kiss?"
Katana stopped in her tracks and whirled around to face Misao, who had the smuggest look on her face. Before she could speak, Misao cut her off.
"No need to thank me!" Misao smirked. Suddenly Aoshi walked by and Misao let out a quiet squeal. "Aoshi-sama!" She raced after him.
Katana felt her blood boiling. It was all Misao's doing! I should've known! She stormed after Misao, hurrying to catch up to her.
It was almost too easy.
She caught up to Misao, who was trailing behind her beloved Aoshi-sama. Then she saw it. Aoshi, completely oblivious, walked right under the heftiest chunk of mistletoe Katana had ever seen. She quickly raised her left and delivered a hard kick to Misao's back, which sent the weasel girl flying straight into Aoshi.
"KATANA! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR!" Misao fumed.
Katana mimicked Misao's earlier smirk. "Look up."
Aoshi and Misao both raised their heads and saw the weed dangling above them. Misao slowly looked back at Aoshi, her face becoming a lovely shade of magenta.
Of course at that very second, everyone else just happened to walk into the room.
Omasu and Okon were the first to realize what was going on. They exchanged a glance before breaking out into huge grins.
"What goes around, comes around," Okina chuckled.
Misao turned her attention back to Aoshi. His emotionless eyes turned to her and she felt her breath hitch. The world felt fuzzy and Misao wondered it everyone could hear how loud her heart was beating. Was it just her, or was Aoshi-sama getting closer…closer…
With a dull thunk, Misao fainted and hit the floor. Katana laughed as Omasu hurried over to check on the weasel girl.
Too easy.
Once again sorry it took so long. I hope you liked it...please review :D