Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic: These Changing Times
This fanfic series takes place two years after the Revenge Arc ends, in an alternate RuroKen universe. (Only because I started it well before the manga ended ^_^;;) Eighteen-year-old Makimachi Misao comes to Tokyo to stay with Kenshin and Kaoru... and to put her own troubles behind her. A newly attentive Sagara Sanosuke is more than willing to distract her. Then a certain Oniwabanshuu onmitsu turns up in Tokyo to help investigate a wave of vicious armed robberies sweeping the city...
Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. But be warned: this fic meddles with what seem to be considered the tried-and-true romantic pairings in RuroKen (in case I didn't already make that clear). So if you read further, please be kind and keep an open mind! ^^;;
Note: for those who are new to the language, click http://www2.netcom.com/~sakka/times/glossary.htm to get information on the Japanese terms and expressions used in this chapter.
Chapter 3 - The Teacher Appears
Misao whistled cheerfully as she scrubbed the last of the breakfast dishes, keeping time with Yahiko and Yutarou as they counted off their shinai swings in the front yard. From the other side of the building, she could faintly hear Kenshin laughing and singing with Ayame-chan and Suzume-chan, their chatter occasionally mingled with Kintou's delighted gurgles and shrieks.
Misao smiled. Though she'd gotten little sleep, the bustling energy of the doujou was rubbing off on her. She'd sweep the porches next, then see about helping Himura with the laundry.
As Misao wiped her hands on her apron, she stepped outside to watch Kaoru and her two best students practice Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu. Kaoru was working with Yahiko, making subtle adjustments to his grip as Yutarou watched closely. Misao noted with satisfaction that both boys were wearing the hand guards she'd given them as presents from Kyoto.
Yahiko practiced with the modified grip his sensei had just shown him, a smile spreading across his face as he noted the difference. "You're right, Kaoru -- it feels much better," he said, sounding a bit sheepish.
Kaoru sighed in exasperation. "I would think after all this time you would know better than to question me, Yahiko," she said sharply. "You're at an age where you're growing very quickly. As that happens, you'll need to make adjustments in your grip and your stance to compensate."
"He doesn't look any taller, Kaoru-sensei," Yutarou said, smirking. "Maybe it's just his head that's gotten bigger."
"Teme!" Yahiko gritted his teeth, advancing on Yutarou and prodding him with his shinai. "Your mouth gets bigger every day! Why don't you let your sword do the talking for a change?"
"Gladly," Yutarou hissed, dropping his shinai into ready stance.
Misao covered her mouth to stifle the giggles that threatened. Kaoru had started to grin as well, but she quickly donned a more serious face. "Stop it, both of you," she scolded, glaring at them. "You'll have plenty of chances to fight later on. Right now, you both should be quiet and pay attention. You might actually learn something."
"Gomen, Kaoru-sensei," Yutarou said, dropping his shinai at his side and bowing slightly.
"Sumanu, sensei," Yahiko mumbled, red-faced.
Kaoru's eyes brightened victoriously. She then glanced up and saw Misao watching them from the porch. "Ohayou, Misao-chan," Kaoru said, her greeting echoed by her two students.
"Ohayou, minna. How do they feel?" Misao said, gesturing toward the boys' hands.
"Great!" Yahiko beamed and flexed his wrists for emphasis.
"They really do. Thanks again, Misao-san," Yutarou said, bowing respectfully.
Kaoru turned toward her students. "I want 500 swings from both of you. Pay attention to your grip, Yahiko. Begin now!"
Yahiko grumbled, but began swinging in time with Yutarou. Kaoru sighed and sat heavily on the porch. Misao dropped to her knees next to Kaoru. "Nice job, sensei," Misao said, grinning. "Do they do that often?"
"What, fight? Every damn day," Kaoru said grimly. "I only put up with it because their rivalry drives them forward. It's good for their training. Besides, it's not as if they hate each other. They're like brothers that way." She called out, "That's it, Yahiko. You've got it."
Yahiko grinned, continuing his count a bit more forcefully.
"He's so cocky it's aggravating," Kaoru said, half to herself. "It makes it hard to compliment him... it tends to go to his head quickly. But he has a right to be confident. He's a fine swordsman."
The last statement was so quiet Misao barely caught it. She glanced at her friend. "Why, Kaoru-san... are you crying?" she said, whispering so as not to draw attention to them.
"A little," Kaoru said, hastily wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her gi. "I tend to do that a lot lately. Genzai-sensei says sometimes that happens with pregnant women... they get overly sentimental." She laughed a little. "Silly, isn't it?"
Misao remembered what Jiya had told her about Himura's letter.
... he's worried because she seems depressed as well...
"Kaoru-san?"
"Nani?"
Misao watched her closely. "Is something troubling you? I mean, more than feeling sentimental... is there something worrying you?"
Kaoru's smile trembled a bit, then brightened. "Of course not!" she said, laughing. "The doujou is doing fine... everyone's healthy... Kenshin and Kintou are wonderful... and now you're here. What could I possibly have to be upset about?"
She rose slowly, still smiling. "Thank you for asking, Misao-chan... but you don't need to need to worry about me." She patted Misao's hand and walked toward Yahiko and Yutarou, who were finishing their swings. "All right! You have time for one match before our morning class starts arriving. Winner will get two pieces of the chocolate Misao-chan brought me from Kyoto."
"Yatta!" Yahiko chortled greedily. "Get ready for me to whip your butt, cat-eyes," he sneered, taking a defensive stance.
"In your dreams, monkey-face," Yutarou retorted. "Here I come!"
Kaoru watched them spar, chuckling and occasionally shouting advice to one or the other. Misao's eyes narrowed as she observed them. Kaoru's sadness did indeed appear to have vanished. But Misao, of all people, knew that it took more than a big smile and cheerful words to erase a person's deepest sorrows and worries.
I know something's bothering her. It may take some time, but I'll find out what it is...
...............
"Minna! Lunch is ready!" Misao began ladeling miso soup into bowls, as Kenshin came out of the kitchen carrying a tray of rice balls.
"Ahh... looks like I came just in time," Sanosuke said, rubbing his hands together. "Smells great, Misao-chan."
Misao glowered at him. "You're welcome to eat lunch with us," she said. "But... only if you help me with some chores afterward. I don't tolerate freeloading!" She pointed a finger a couple of inches away from his nose for emphasis.
Sanosuke assumed a wounded expression. "Freeloader? Me? You've got me all wrong. Why, I'm always willing to help out around here! Right, Kenshin?"
Kenshin chuckled nervously. "Well... maybe sometimes..."
Yahiko snorted. "Yeah, right... you do about as much work as Kintou there," he said around a mouthful of rice ball, jerking his thumb back at the corner where Kaoru was sitting and rocking the baby after his feeding.
Yutarou snickered, then yelped as Sanosuke smacked the back of his head. "Urusai, rich boy," he growled, sending Yahiko into his own snickering fit.
"Hey, keep your hands to yourself, chicken-head!" Yutarou yelled, jumping on the taller man's back and pounding him on the head.
"Oh, that really hurts," Sanosuke said mockingly, pulling Yutarou off by the back of his gi and dangling him in the air. This made Yahiko laugh even harder... until Sanosuke dropped Yutarou into his lap. Soup and rice flew in all directions.
"Oi! Baka! That was my lunch!" Yahiko shrieked, shoving Yutarou to the ground and hurling his soup bowl at Sanosuke. The fighter sniffed contemptuously, raising his hand to block the bowl. The minute the dish touched his fingertips, it crumbled to dust.
"Show-off," Yahiko said sullenly, sticking his tongue out at Sanosuke. He merely grinned in return as the two boys trudged off to the well to clean up.
Kenshin's mouth twitched as he struggled not to laugh. "Maa, maa, Sano... keep that up and we won't have any dishes left," he said, feigning distress.
Sano shrugged. "Beats washing 'em," he said, winking at Misao. "But, since I don't have any money to buy you new ones, I suppose I'll help you clean these up the hard way."
Misao laughed. "I see there's never a dull moment here," she said as she helped Sanosuke gather the empty dishes. "Especially when you're around."
"Heh. Guess you could say that," Sanosuke said, flashing that familiar devilish grin. As they walked to the kitchen, Misao noticed a different sheen to the red headband he wore.
"Oh! You're wearing it," she exclaimed.
His smile broadened. "Of course," he said, stopping to pose in the sun. "How does it look?"
"Good... but you already knew that," Misao said teasingly, recalling the previous evening.
She had been overjoyed by how enthusiastically everyone had received their gifts during dinner. Kaoru had raved over the beautiful dark blue and white kimono, complete with matching obi and ribbon. And Kenshin's eyes had nearly popped out of their sockets when he saw his own new clothes -- a dark blue gi with embroidered white trim, and white hakama trimmed with the same shade of blue as the gi.
Kaoru was as delighted with her husband's gift as she had been with her own. "They're beautiful," she sighed blissfully. "Kenshin, you'll look so handsome... and with my new kimono, we'll be a perfect match!"
"That was the idea," Misao said. "I hope Himura doesn't think it's too much. Ne, Himura?"
He looked up quickly, seeming dazed. "Arigatou de gozaru, Misao-dono," he said in his quiet way, his wide smile indicating how truly pleased he was with the clothes.
But it was Sanosuke's reaction she'd enjoyed the most. After he badgered her for most of the previous afternoon, Misao had relented and given him Jiya's gift -- a jug of the Aoiya's best sake -- before dinner. But she held back the red silk headband she and Omasu had found one day while shopping for a ribbon to match Kaoru's kimono. Omasu had pointed it out to Misao, saying it reminded her of "Himura-san's handsome gangster friend."
Misao had examined it doubtfully. "I don't think Sanosuke would wear something that fancy," she said. "He'll better appreciate the sake Jiya is sending him."
"Still, it's such a lovely shade of red," Omasu said, sighing. "It would really compliment those sexy eyes of his."
Misao rolled her own eyes, remembering the shameless amount of flirting Sanosuke had done with both Omasu and Okon during his stay in Kyoto. "Well, why don't you get it for him?" Misao grinned teasingly. "And when I give it to him, I'll tell him exactly what you just told me."
"Misao-chan! You know that wouldn't be proper," Omasu protested, giggling all the while. "But let's buy it and say it's a gift from everyone at the Aoiya. I think he'll like it, despite what you said."
Omasu turned out to be right. Sanosuke had uttered a low, long whistle as he unwrapped the headband, his face glowing with pleasure. "My, my... you have good taste, Misao-chan," he said, running his fingers over the fabric. "This is too fine for the likes of me."
Misao suddenly found it difficult to look at Sanosuke. Something about his deep voice... his soft eyes on hers as his long fingers stroked the red silk... left her flushed and breathless.
She swallowed. "Funny, I told Omasu the same thing when she showed it to me," she said evenly, busying herself with the teapot. "Would anyone like more tea?"
The chorus of assents gave Misao time to regain her composure. After she set the pot down, she looked at Sanosuke. He'd stopped admiring the headband and was gazing intently at her instead. She felt the color rise in her cheeks again.
"Arigatou gozaimasu, Misao-chan," he said, his voice as smooth and rich as the silk in his hands.
The polite response flustered her further. "D... dou itashimashite," she managed to respond, knowing she should stop staring like a ninny, yet unable to tear her eyes away from his serious, intense face.
Damn, he's attractive... and the way he looks at me... am I imagining things, or does he--
As if he'd read her mind, he gave her a sly half-smile that set her insides quivering.
To make matters worse, Yahiko chose that moment to say loudly, "Oi, Misao -- what's with the face? Did you swallow something bad?"
Misao was mortified, not to mention aggravated. Thankfully, before her temper got the best of her, Kenshin interrupted them.
"You must be tired from your journey, Misao-dono," he said. "Why don't you go get some rest?"
"But I should help clean up," she protested. "That's what I'm here for."
"Sano and I can handle that," Kenshin said, glancing at his friend, who quickly chimed in, "Uh... sure, sure. Go ahead, Misao-chan. Oyasumi. Mata ato de."
Misao flushed, remembering the gleam in Sano's eye as he wished her good night...
..................
"Something wrong, Misao-chan?"
The concern in Sanosuke's voice brought Misao back to the present. "N- no, not at all!" she said, briskly dropping the lunch dishes into the kitchen wash basin. As she reached for the dish cloth, Sano grabbed it first.
"Here. Let me do that," he said, fixing her with that unnerving gaze again. "You've been at it nonstop all morning. Why don't you sit down here and keep me company?" He motioned toward the nearby counter.
Misao was dumbfounded. Sanosuke the loafer was actually volunteering to work! It added to the suspicion that begun to form in her mind last night after their exchange over dinner. It seemed impossible, but...
Is he acting this way because... because... he's interested in me? As a woman?
He turned to her, dish cloth in hand, flirtatious grin in place. And suddenly she remembered a similar scene from long ago at the Aoiya... Okon scolding Sanosuke... his teasing laugh as he snatched the dish cloth away from her and turned to the basin...
Misao scowled, feeling young and foolish.
That's ridiculous... he flirts this way with all women... whether he's interested or not... look at the way he was in Kyoto with Okon and Omasu. I've got to stop acting like such an idiot around him!
She marched over to the basin and picked up a towel. "I can't just sit here while you work," she said, smiling in a casual, friendly way. "You wash. I'll dry."
"Deal," Sanosuke said, handing her the first dish with a wink.
...............
Before Misao knew it, a whole week had passed, then two. Her days settled into a schedule, dominated by her two main chores: shopping and cooking. Thanks to Okon's patient, persistent instruction, Misao had become a pretty good cook, and Kaoru was relieved to surrender a duty neither she nor anyone else enjoyed having her do.
Each morning, Misao would normally wake before everyone else and meditate before heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Aoshi-sama had taught her a few simple Zen meditations, but she usually couldn't sit still long enough to finish them. She settled for closing her eyes and breathing deeply for a few minutes, concentrating on quieting the wayward thoughts that would start galloping through her brain the moment she awakened. When she started fidgeting, or thinking of Aoshi-sama, she would end the meditation. Sometimes she even made it as long as five minutes without his name or image entering her mind.
She was grateful that most of the time, she was too busy to think. After breakfast, she would plan the rest of the day's meals, writing down the ingredients she needed. If the list was long, she would recruit Kenshin and Kintou to come shopping with her. She would carry the baby, while Kenshin handled the groceries. She vastly preferred their company over shopping alone, but only asked for Kenshin's help when she absolutely needed it. She knew he preferred to stick close to home and keep an eye on Kaoru, in case she should need anything.
After lunch, Kaoru usually took a nap with Kintou before afternoon classes began. At first, Misao had looked for work to do around the doujou while they slept. But after a few days, Kenshin had encouraged her to take the time for herself. "You deserve a break too, Misao-dono," he said. "Why, you haven't even had time to practice! Okina-dono will be upset with us if we keep you from your training."
Misao knew Jiya wouldn't care much, since he'd never really wanted her to join the Oniwabanshuu in the first place. But she was determined to keep her skills sharp. So every subsequent afternoon, she headed for a nearby field to practice her kempo and kunai-throwing. She brought her grandfather's kodachi along as well. Even though she only knew a few basic stances, she liked to practice them. The graceful movements brought her a sense of peace, and the weight of the sword in her hand made her feel connected with the grandfather she barely remembered.
After a couple of hours of training, Misao would return to the doujou, take a bath and start preparing dinner. By the time the last dish was wiped and put away, she couldn't wait to collapse onto her futon. After the first few nights, she had no trouble sleeping soundly.
It was a simple life, much like the one she had led in Kyoto. But her Tokyo companions were more lively, to say the least. Yahiko and Yutarou were constantly arguing and competing, but they often joined forces to play pranks on their fellow Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu students... not to mention Sanosuke and, occasionally, even Kenshin. Once they got used to Misao's presence, they included her in their mischief as well, which delighted her. She and Jiya used to play jokes on each other all the time, but as Misao got older, the pranks had stopped. She relished the opportunity to pull some of her best practical jokes on new victims. She quickly won the grudging respect of the two boys, and they spent much of their time plotting revenge for her tricks.
Misao also spent a lot of time caring for Kintou while Kaoru was teaching. He was a cheerful, energetic baby, always chuckling and crawling around, getting into things. Misao invented countless games to keep him amused and out of trouble. He adored the pinwheels and puppets Kuro had made for him, but he was just as happy when Misao made funny faces and sang to him, bouncing him in her arms and swinging him around.
Kintou quickly learned to recognize her, reaching out to her and squealing whenever she approached him. She would laugh in return, feeling a kind of joy she hadn't known existed. She loved Kintou completely, and was awed that Kaoru-san and Himura had not only produced this one perfect child, but were about to produce two more.
And then there was Sanosuke, with whom Misao had formed an easygoing friendship. Shortly after Misao arrived at Kamiya Doujou, Sanosuke started showing up earlier in the morning, often staying until bedtime. Sometimes he would just sit around and chat with Kenshin or roughhouse with Yahiko and Yutarou. But mostly, he trailed after Misao, who quickly put him to work fixing leaks, loose floor boards and other breakdowns around the doujou. He did every task she demanded without complaint... as long as she stayed to help him or talk with him while he worked. Occasionally, Sano also accompanied Misao on her morning shopping trips, relieving Kenshin of the grocery-carrying duty.
He was amusing, good-natured company, and Misao found herself looking forward to their daily bantering. She was disappointed on the rare days when Sano didn't arrive at the doujou until later in the afternoon, while she was out training. That meant she only saw him at dinner. Though she would never admit it publicly, she missed his companionship on those days. She often wondered what he did when he wasn't at the doujou, but was afraid to ask him. Most likely it was something disreputable, like gambling or fighting. She wouldn't even allow herself to think about any women he might be seeing. It was none of her business, after all.
It was one of those days when she first met Unmei. She had set up some targets for kunai practice, and had just finished throwing a set when she sensed someone watching her.
Wonder if it's Sano... baka-yarou... he knows I hate it when he watches me train. He makes me nervous...
Misao whirled around, ready to berate her delinquent friend... and saw a tiny, shriveled old woman staring at her. She was leaning on the arm of a much taller young man, who had black hair and the same sharp, dark eyes as the old woman. She smiled toothlessly.
"Not bad, young lady," she said, her voice thin and wavering with age. "You have a strong arm... though your form could use some refining. Your hand movements are too flashy... they waste precious seconds. Smaller gestures are the key..."
Misao gaped at the old lady. It was exactly the kind of advice Okon would have given her. What the hell...? "Ano... how do you know so much about throwing kunai?"
The old woman cackled. "My, my... where have young people's manners gone? Such a direct question, young lady," she said, her dark eyes twinkling.
"Sumimasen. I didn't mean to offend you," Misao said, bowing slightly. "It's just unusual for a total stranger to walk up to me and start giving me pointers."
"True, true... that wasn't very polite of me, now, was it?" The old lady chortled again. "Well, I guess I lost my head for a moment. It's not every day I see a young woman practicing the arts of the onmitsu... especially out in the open, in broad daylight... my curiosity got the better of me."
Misao's eyes widened further. "You know I'm onmitsu?"
"Of course," the old woman said, smiling mysteriously. "I recognize my own kind... though it's been countless years since I donned my own battle gear."
"You're former onmitsu?" Misao gasped. "Then... you must know of my group, the Oniwabanshuu!"
"Ahh, yes... I've heard of the great Oniwabanshuu of Kyoto..." the old woman said, a faraway look in her eyes. She shook her head sharply, returning her focus to Misao. "But we have not introduced ourselves! My name is Takashi Unmei... and this is my grandson, Toushi." She patted the young man's arm.
"Hajimemashite," Toushi said, bowing. His impassive expression did not change.
Misao bowed in response. "Makimachi Misao," she said. "Douzo yoroshiku."
Unmei cocked her head, staring at Misao with those birdlike eyes. "How interesting that we should meet this way. I take it that you have been training by yourself?"
Misao nodded. "I'm staying with friends in Tokyo," she said, "but I don't want to get out of practice."
Unmei smiled. "Misao-chan... how would you like to continue your training under my instruction? I have a doujou not far from here where my family has been training the Tokyo version of your Oniwabanshuu for generations. I would be honored if you would allow me to help you further hone your onmitsu skills."
Misao's head spun. It seemed so strange... this woman appearing out of nowhere and offering to train her. Yet, it reminded her of an old saying she heard Aoshi-sama repeat not too long ago: something about the teacher appearing when the student is ready to learn.
She was ready. Maybe now she would learn how to properly use the weapon her grandfather had passed down to her... the kodachi that hung sheathed at her side.
She bowed deeply. "I gratefully accept your generous offer. Arigatou gozaimasu."
Unmei smiled warmly, beckoning Misao closer. "See that peaked roof in the distance? That's my doujou, where we teach the Takashi style of kempo. Toushi can give you clearer directions... his young eyes see much better than mine."
"Where are you staying, Makimachi-san?" Toushi asked.
"Kamiya Doujou," Misao replied.
"Oh, that's not far at all," he said, proceeding to explain the way to the Takashi doujou.
Misao glanced at the sky. "It's getting late," she said. "Can I come tomorrow? After lunch?"
"I'll be expecting you," Unmei said. "Until tomorrow, then, Misao-chan."
"Hai. Mata ato de," Misao called, waving as she bolted up the path.
Unmei and Toushi watched her black braid bobbing as she slowly faded from view. "By the Buddha... she's the spitting image of Sorata... and Akihito," Unmei said, sighing. "That hair... and those eyes! She's a bold, spirited one... has her grandfather's temper as well, I'll wager."
Toushi studied his grandmother. "Are you having second thoughts, Obaa-san?"
Unmei's eyes crackled with anger. "Of course not," she snapped. "I've been waiting for this day for 13 years... the day when my son's disgrace will finally be avenged."
She smiled maliciously. "That day is almost here. Prepare yourself... Shinomori Aoshi..."
-- End of Chapter 3 --