Come into the garden…
But mine, but mine, so I swear to the rose
Forever and ever, mine.
And the soul of the rose went into my blood…
Tennyson
The full moon illuminated the white blooms of the moon flower vine growing up the wall, tomorrow morning they would be closed but the blue morning flowers on the intermingling vine will have replaced them, their cheerfulness a tribute to the sun. Aoshi sat down on the small bench among the irises and turned his face up to gaze at the deep midnight sky. The moon and stars always seemed to shine brighter from the garden; it was magical, enchanting, beautiful. Like her.
Restless and uneasy he had come out here to avoid disturbing her peaceful slumber with his tossing and turning; just as it had the night before his uneasiness would not let him sleep tonight. One who had lived in the darkness, embraced it as he had could never be completely free of it. The darkness was always there. Resting. And although it did not happen often anymore, every now and again something would serve to remind him of the delicate balance of his… of their, hard won happiness. He'd received his reminder two nights ago and it was still with him.
"I will hunt you down!" The criminal had snarled angrily at Chief Uramura, ignoring his threats the police chief had hauled him off to jail. "I will hunt your family down as well!"
He and Himura Kenshin had worked from the shadows to catch the loathsome man. It had taken them two days to track him down and corner him; the police then were sent in to arrest him. The two reluctant heroes never revealed themselves or received any notoriety for their actions, which suited them fine, they preferred to remain in secret; however, secrets were only that as long as no one spoke of them.
The angry words, although not directed at him, echoed like ice through his veins; it was highly unlikely that the man would ever escape being imprisoned and he had seen neither himself nor Kenshin. Still, Aoshi had seen too many things, knew too much of the evil in the hearts of men to ignore the threat. His hand moved to his kodachi and he made to step from the darkened ally. A small but powerful hand on his arm made him stop and turn. Himura Kenshin.
"You would be doing your family no favors going after him Aoshi." Came the soft voice of reason. "He does not know of our involvement."
"But others do." He had offered quietly. Aoshi could tell by the surprise in Himura's eyes at his words that he had not thought of that. "Secrets can always be bought and sold Himura, you know this as well as I."
He felt a momentary tightening of the other man's hand on his arm before it loosened and was drawn back. Kenshin's gaze moved beyond him to the police station and Aoshi turned as well, the criminal was inside now, most likely being taken none too gently, to his cell.
"I would pity the poor soul who came to your house, or the dojo looking for trouble Aoshi." Himura's voice, dangerously quiet seemed to echo throughout the quiet streets of Tokyo. Their gazes locked again and Aoshi was not surprised to see a flash of amber appear momentarily in the depths of his friend's eyes. Although Himura had been a reluctant killer, doing so only out of the desire to make life better for those who were less fortunate, to become that killer he had also embraced the darkness. Darkness that, like himself, he could not totally escape. They understood each other completely.
He brushed his hand lightly over the delicate petals of an Iris, just like in life, if he didn't take the greatest of care the tender flower would not last, would bruise if handled too roughly. This was how it was, loving her. Fragile. In need of protection. Like the deep violet bloom beneath his fingers.
When he'd gone to Paris to find her four years ago he'd been so entangled with the unfamiliarity of expressing his own emotions that he'd thought of little else. Since his youth he had pushed all of that aside and although the feelings were still there, it was a monumental task to even acknowledge them for what they were and even more difficult to reveal them to someone else. Even her.
She had made it far, far too easy for him, however. He smiled ruefully as he recalled how the night of their reunion had ended. Her skin in the moonlight, the erotic brush of her long hair, loose from its braid, against his skin. He shivered at the tingling thrill of the memory. Far too easy.
Each moment they spent in Paris together brought her closer and closer to her old self, this was apparent in more ways than one and he'd realized soon after their reunion that the more they were together, the more feminine she became. It was not something he was overly concerned with himself, except in that she was still very much a man in the eyes of that city and he did not want her to suffer any repercussions for the discovery that she indeed, was not a man. After voicing his concerns she had agreed with him and come up with a solution. A solution that he was not entirely happy about but, for her safety, accepted none the less. He began to avoid accompanying her to the school and other public places where there was the possibility of a great number of people who could recognize her.
To say he was 'not entirely happy' about it was an understatement, he was miserable and so he took to shadowing her every movement, knowing he could do so without detection, except by her maybe. Still he was willing to risk her anger over his behavior if it ensured that something, or worse, someone would not convince her that she should not go to Tokyo, that he, with all he'd done and all he'd been, was not worth taking on and she would be better off remaining where she was. Without him. Everyday his anxiety over this possibility grew, following them even to Tokyo as nothing was to say she couldn't change her mind once they'd returned home and so, even then, his shadowing continued, until…
Aoshi allowed himself a small, self-satisfied smile as he recalled circumstances that presented themselves to rid him of his anxiety over that situation, to tie her to him… irrevocably, forever. It was bound to happen, the consequences of them living together, sleeping together and… his smile deepened at a particular memory.
Aoshi calmly climbed out of bed as the naked form of his wife shot up and out of their room for the third day in a row. Her hand clamped firmly over her mouth as she disappeared into another part of the house.
Sick again. He mused, wondering what she could have possibly eaten to disagree with her so much. He gathered her satin robe that he'd had made for her before they left Paris and carried it to the other end of the house where he knew she'd run to.
The first two days she'd refused his help, embarrassed she had taken care of herself and he'd not been allowed to be concerned about her at all. Today however, like it or not he was not going to leave her alone.
"Aoshi please…" She muttered weakly when he came upon her, unable to finish telling him to go away as another violent wave of nausea hit her. He ignored her and setting the robe aside he reached for her hair and pulled it gently away from her face, securing it back and out of the way. He draped the robe over her shoulders and then left, returning with a basin of water and a cloth. Exhausted and weakened from retching, Misao could not summon the strength to argue and so sat meekly as he took the care to clean her up, slip her arms into her robe and carry her back to bed where she slept the afternoon away while he held her.
It was then that he felt it, the presence of her spirit and that of another. Shock. Disbelief. Wonder. Could it be true? Slowly, hesitantly he lowered his hand to her abdomen and it took only a matter of moments, he could feel it through the satin layer of her robe. A child? Shock at the revelation soon turned to awe and was quickly followed by a protective surge that washed over him. His hand slipped beneath her robe and his fingers splayed across her belly, his other arm pulled her back, tighter against him as he spooned up behind her. He buried his face into her neck, nuzzling the sensitive skin exposed from her hair being tied back. This feeling, it was like nothing he'd ever felt before, almost animalistic in nature as he envisioned himself hovering over a Misao grown round and full with his child; growling at anyone who dared come near.
How she would have laughed at him if she knew. He had wondered if he should tell her when she woke up or wait a few days, or even feign surprise when he sent her to the doctor and she returned with the happy news. She would have been awfully angry if he had waited and she had discovered that he knew. Better to tell her then.
Light laughter and rustling fabric pulled him from his reverie, his head lifted and turned sharply toward the shoji that lead from the garden into the house. His breath caught at the vision of his wife, smiling, her hair falling about her shoulders, their son clinging to her leg, his head burrowing sleepily into the rumpled fabric of her robe.
'I would pity the poor soul who came to your house, or the dojo looking for trouble Aoshi.' He could hear Himura's words from two days ago playing through his mind again. Looking at his wife and son, the light of their untainted souls shining in the moonlight he thought. So would I Himura, so would I.
"You've been out here for a while." Misao's voice reached out and caressed him, pulling him from the dark path of his thoughts. "We want you to come back to bed."
The tether tightened and pulled, the light beckoning him; unable and unwilling to fight it, Aoshi climbed to his feet and made his way to where they stood. He met her smile with one of his own, his hands catching her around the waist as she stood up on her toes to kiss him.
"I'm not completely helpless you know." She whispered after pulling back slightly in his embrace, her blue eyes serious as she spoke. "You worry too much."
His eyes widened momentarily in surprise. He should have realized that she would know what he was thinking, feeling. Hadn't she always? Yes. Better than anyone. He smiled down at her and she came willingly as his arms closed around her, pulling her against him and whispering 'you're right, I do.'
"Otousan. Otousan." The small voice accompanied a demanding tug on his pant leg and he turned as Misao stepped back. Aoshi looked down into his son's sleepy face, a chubby version of his own, except for the eyes. He stooped to lift up his son, whose small arms wound their way about his neck. Aoshi raised a questioning eyebrow as he clearly had more to say. "Okaasan is always right. She said so."
Misao giggled and stepped back out of his reach as Aoshi turned to look at her, his eyes narrowing playfully at her before turning back to his son who had the same eyes as his mother.
"Sou ka na?" He asked and smiled as his son nodded earnestly. "Well, did you know that she once believed she was a ninja spy?"
"Honto?" The young voice filled with incredulity, his eyes widening.
"Mmm." Aoshi confirmed trying his hardest to hold back laughter and ignore Misao who gave a complaining 'hey' from behind him as she followed him into the house. "She believed that Okina-Ojiisan was too!"
Aoshi could not help but smile as his son turned and fixed his mother with a strange look who in turn used her blue, liquid pools of feigned hurt on them. Damn she is good at this. It seemed they were both susceptible to this fail proof weapon in her arsenal. He thought ready to apologize, anything to return the smile to her eyes. She knows me too well.
"Gomen ne Okaasan…" Aoshi could see her smiling in triumph already as their son stuttered an excuse. "O… Okina-Ojiisan… he must have been a funny ninja."
"He was." She chimed in, no evidence of sadness left in her eyes or voice. Merely reconfirming Aoshi's theory that she was far too good with that weapon of hers but glad that she was no longer torturing him with it, although he didn't care for the mock sinister look she was giving him just now. "Just ask Otousan."
He turned a gimlet eye on her as his son turned to him questioning whether she had actually been right after all. Ignoring Misao's continued giggling he stepped past her and set his son on the futon then sat down beside him.
"We'll talk about it more in the morning." He spoke while they both climbed under the blanket to snuggle warmly together, his son dozing off almost immediately. He had his own weapon to use on Misao and closed his eyes against the pout he knew was coming as the two of them failed to invite her. Aoshi smiled when after a few moments she climbed in beside him and slowly snuggled up against him, without so much as a word.
She was right. He thought. What had he been thinking spending time out in the garden when he could have been here? With them? He had allowed the darkness so many liberties with his life, had spent too much time there, time he could not reclaim, time away from her. Gathering her close, feeling the relieved sigh escaping against his chest as she lay her head down, he resolved to bury his demons at last, he would not allow them to disrupt his happiness, their happiness in this way again. It was the Meiji; he had a right to his happiness and besides… Misao was not completely helpless, just as she had said. He smiled and kissed the top of her head.
"Oyasumi Misao." He whispered against her hair.
"Oyasumi." She returned drowsily against his chest both of them drifting off to sleep.