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, go to http://home.netcom.com/~sakka/times/glossary.htm to get information on the Japanese terms and expressions used in this chapter.
Chapter 21 -- Awakenings
Aoshi was enjoying the longest, most peaceful meditation of his life. He appeared to be floating in a warm, pearly gray mist, and wasn't conscious of there being anyone or anything else in the world but his own mind. He sighed deeply, basking in the contentment he felt. So this is inner peace... it's wonderful... everything I'd ever hoped for...**Okashira**
**Aoshi-sama**
Suddenly, Aoshi was no longer alone. Floating in the air before him were four ghostly figures, all of which he instantly recognized. His heart jumped as he called their names --
... Beshimi ... Hyottoko ... Shijikou... Hannya ...
The spirits of Aoshi's old Oniwabanshuu comrades smiled.
... I can't believe it... am I dreaming? ...
**Iya, Aoshi-sama,** Hannya replied. **We're really here... as are you...**
... Where? ...
**The shadowy realm between life and death.**
Aoshi's stomach lurched.
... The fight... the poison... did it kill me? ...
**Not yet. But you are treading the line between worlds. You must choose between them soon... or the gods will make the choice for you...**
Aoshi silently considered Hannya's words.
... If death brings the kind of peace I was experiencing just now, then I welcome it. Show me the way, Hannya ...
Hannya was silent a moment before replying, his respectful tone containing a hint of misgiving --
**Consider your choice carefully, Aoshi-sama. Think of those you'll be leaving behind.**
Aoshi knew Hannya meant Misao. Her image danced in the air between them, laughing and bright... then flickered... and became Misao as she'd looked when he'd last seen her... bereft and weeping...
**She still cries for you, Aoshi-sama. Can you so willingly abandon her?**
... Her tears will dry... especially since she has Sagara with her now. She'll soon forget me ...
**Are you sure?**
A fifth figure emerged from the mist... a dark-haired young man wearing an old-style Oniwabanshuu uniform... his blue-green eyes narrowed with disapproval...
... Sorata-san? ...
**Aoshi... you promised me you'd always protect Misao.**
... I've done my best, Sorata-san... and now she's a woman grown. She doesn't need my protection any longer ...
**That may be so... but have you thought of the hurt your death will cause her? She's lost everyone she's ever loved... to lose you as well will break her heart...**
Aoshi felt a quick flash of anger.
... Must I always sacrifice my own desires for Misao? It's not fair...
**Of course it isn't fair, Aoshi. But you took on the responsibility... you can't just walk away and pretend there'll be no repercussions.**
... Why not? Isn't that what you did all those years ago? ...
Aoshi flinched inwardly, knowing he hadn't acted so hot-headed and unreasonable since he was a child under Akihito-sama's tutelage. He hasn't meant to... but in this realm, once a thought was formed, it was if it had been spoken aloud. There was no opportunity to weigh his thoughts, temper his emotions and choose his words carefully as he did in the waking world.
Sorata's eyes hardened briefly, then flickered with sorrow.
**True. But I had no choice in the matter... whereas you do...**
... I don't understand... if you, Hannya and the others didn't have a choice in dying... then why do I? What makes me so special? ...
**I can't answer that. I only know that you hold your fate in your own hands. And I'm asking you to return to the living... to my daughter. She needs you, Aoshi...**
Misao's image appeared again, her tear-filled, jewel-like eyes beseeching him. Staring into their anguished depths, Aoshi felt the same uncomfortable sensation a request from Misao always raised within him... as if she was pulling a string firmly tied around his heart. He closed his eyes, frustrated that even beyond life, Misao should have such a hold over him.
... Damn you, Misao... why won't you leave me in peace? ...
Sorata's thoughts intruded on Aoshi's, his mind's voice rich with amusement.
**Aoshi... I remember so well the day you first held my newborn girl in your arms and looked into her sweet eyes. In that moment, she seized your heart... and you've been fighting to wrest it away from her ever since.**
As if underscoring Sorata's words, vivid memories danced through Aoshi's consciousness... Misao as a toddler, tottering after him as he tried to slip away to train with Akihito-sama... an eight-year-old Misao calling his name as she searched the Aoiya for him, while he frantically searched for a place to hide the sack he was packing for his journey... Misao at 16, bringing him tea and a smile during his self-imposed isolation, cheerfully ignoring his obvious desire to be left alone with his remorse-filled thoughts...
He smirked suddenly.
... I should have known better, to think I could escape her. She's nothing if not persistent ...
He opened his eyes to see Sorata smiling at him.
**You wouldn't love her as well otherwise. Admit it, Aoshi... you don't want her to leave you alone. That's what truly is keeping you from returning to her now... the fear of having to experience losing her to the love she bears for that young rascal Sagara.**
Aoshi's brow furrowed.
... I know what you're suggesting. But it's not what you think. I do love her... but not in that way ...
**Are you sure about that?** Sorata quirked an eyebrow skeptically, and Aoshi flushed as he remembered that night in the Aoiya's courtyard. He all but stammered as he replied --
... All right... there have been moments when I thought I might feel... differently... about her. But they always pass ...
**You still see her as a child.**
... I think I always will. She's more like my imouto than anything else... it just seems... wrong, somehow... to love her any other way ...
**Only because you feel unworthy of her.**
... But I am ...
**And because you are deathly afraid of losing control over yourself.**
Aoshi was silent, not wanting to consider that possibility.
**It's all right, Aoshi. Perhaps I'm just indulging a father's pride in his beautiful daughter... pride which cannot bear the thought that any man could resist her womanly charms.**
Aoshi smiled slightly at that.
... You always were a philosopher, Sorata-san ...
Sorata chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement. He looked so much like Misao that Aoshi felt a painful twist deep within him. He imagined what she would be like without that smile... that sparkle... and knew the weight of grief from his death -- on top of the other losses she had experienced in her short life -- would inevitably dim her shimmering, joyful light.
In that moment, his choice became clear.
Sorata's smiled broadened as he raising a misty hand in farewell, his voice fading gradually as Aoshi felt himself floating away --
**Yes... go to her. She's waiting for you...**
.....................
Megumi paused before the door to Aoshi's room, biting her lip as she wrestled with what to say to Misao about Aoshi's condition. She finally turned to the young woman who stood behind her, leaning against Sanosuke's sturdy side.
"Misao-chan," she said. "I'll be honest with you. Shinomori Aoshi is in a deep sleep... and he has shown no sign of stirring since Sanosuke brought him here three days ago. I don't want to trouble you... but..."
"His condition is serious," Misao said.
"Yes," Megumi said somberly. "Some people never awaken from a sleep like his." The doctor forced herself to brighten. "But there's always hope," she continued in what she hoped was a more encouraging tone. "His wounds appear to be healing... his breathing is even... and he no longer suffers from fever or irregular heartbeat. I just didn't want you to mistake his condition for a normal sleep."
Misao's lower lip trembled slightly. Sano tightened his grip around her shoulders, pressing her closer to his side. She looked up at him, forcing her usual optimistic smile.
"Arigatou, sensei," she said to Megumi. "I'm glad you told me."
Megumi smiled reassuringly. "Try talking to him," she said. "He seems to respond best to you. And there are some who believe that people can hear their loved ones even when unconscious."
Misao nodded as Megumi slid the door open. Sano helped Misao into the room, glancing quickly behind him. He wanted to kiss her before he left, but Megumi was watching them closely, and he didn't want to embarrass Misao. Damned nosy fox, he grumbled inwardly, grasping Misao's hands and squeezing them as he said --
"Just call for me when you're done, Misao. I'll be waiting down the hall if you need anything."
He turned to leave, but Misao surprised him by grabbing his sleeve and pulling him back to her.
"Chotto," she said sharply, standing on tiptoe and planting a loud, smacking kiss on his lips. "Promise you'll never leave me without a kiss, Sano," she murmured.
Megumi uttered a strangled cough, prompting Sano to flash a wicked grin in the doctor's direction. He then returned Misao's peck with a shamelessly voluptuous kiss that had both of them flushed and trembling by its end. "Is that what you had in mind?" he whispered in Misao's ear, making her giggle.
"I love you," she whispered back. "I'll see you in awhile."
"Count on it, babe," Sano said with his usual cocky wink. He brushed by Megumi, whose face was bright red, and said gruffly --
"Oi, fox... don't you have something better to do than spy on us?"
Megumi growled something unintelligible as she slammed the shoji shut, and Misao couldn't help laughing as she heard the doctor yell after Sanosuke --
"Baka! You're the ones making a public display of yourselves..."
Guess she's right, Misao thought, feeling only the tiniest twinge of embarrassed guilt. She actually didn't mind Sano demonstrating his claim on her in front of Megumi -- it was further proof that the lovely female doctor no longer had any hold over him.
Misao approached Aoshi's bedside, her focus shifting to the purpose for her visit. She scrutinized his pale face, which wore a peaceful expression, as if he was meditating. His hair was tousled, falling carelessly across his closed eyes. Misao fought the urge she always had to brush his unruly bangs back from his face so she could try to read what little expression she usually found there. But he was deeply asleep... surely he wouldn't mind her tidying his hair a bit...
Biting her lip and glancing quickly around, Misao ran trembling fingers through the dark fringe framing Aoshi's, carefully combing it to the sides. His hair's so... soft. Silky, like mine. I always wondered...
Misao quickly dropped her hand, blushing furiously. This is no time to indulge in childish wishes...
"Aoshi-sama?" she said timidly, half-expecting his eyes to snap open and meet hers with his usual equanimity. "Can you hear me?"
Not so much as an eyelash twitched.
Misao sighed. "I know... I'm a fool," she said wearily. "All this time I kept thinking that when you heard my voice, you would wake up and everything would be okay again. Like some kind of magic bond between us would call you back to me. But it's not going to happen, is it?"
She bent over so that her face was nearly touching his. She could feel his faint breath warming her cheek, setting off the tiniest spark of hope in her heart. "Oh, Aoshi-sama," she whispered, impulsively pulling a leaden hand from under his blanket and clasping it tightly. "You are still alive. I can't give up hope... not yet. Please, Aoshi-sama... you have to live. Please come back."
Aoshi slept on, unmoved. Misao's voice quavered as she continued pleadingly.
"Aoshi-sama... there's so much I still need you to teach me. I know if necessary I can be okashira again... I've done it before... but it would be so much better if you were here to train and guide me."
Misao's words began to blur together as tears streamed down her face.
"Aoshi-sama... there's so much to tell you... so much to explain. Gomen nasai... I thought... I mean... I do love you... I will always love you... but... but Sano... Sano and I..."
She pressed her face into Aoshi's chest, sobbing --
"I don't understand... Aoshi-sama... your face... what you said when you left the doujou... I was so confused... I thought for a moment... could you have changed your mind... about me... us?"
Did his breath catch? Misao couldn't be sure -- she was crying so hard she was gasping for air herself. Her broken ribs ached and burned terribly.
"But even if you have... I can't... it's too late..." Her voice gave out as another spasm of weeping shook her slender frame. "I don't want to hurt you, Aoshi... I'm so sorry..." she rasped. "But it doesn't mean... I don't still love... and need you. I know it's selfish... but you... you're my family... please..."
She wasn't sure how long she lay there crying before becoming aware of the hand gently resting on top of her head. Her sobs dried instantly, and she gaped in astonishment as she heard a voice murmur weakly --
"Misao... thought... I told you... not to... cry for me... anymore."
Misao lifted her head and found herself staring into Aoshi's familiar blue-gray eyes. With a choked cry, she flung her arms around his neck and pressed her damp cheek to his, her tears this time born of relief and joy.
Aoshi winced as Misao's enthusiastic embrace set off a host of aches from his various wounds. But instead of telling her to stop, he slowly slid his undamaged arm around her in a loose, tentative hug.
"Sumanai, Misao," he whispered. "I didn't mean to cause you such distress."
Misao smiled through her tears. "Daijoubu," she said. "You're going to be fine now... that's all that matters..."
Aoshi tightened his arm around her in reply. Misao suddenly felt her heart speed up -- she'd been so focused on her happiness at Aoshi's recovery that she hadn't fully realized that she was lying half on top of him in nothing more than her light yukata. And he was holding her there! How unlike him...
"G- gomen," she stammered, breaking the embrace. "I didn't mean to..."
"It's all right, Misao," Aoshi said. She thought she detected a note of amusement in his voice. "You should probably get the doctor anyway," he continued.
"Why?" Misao blurted anxiously. "Are you in pain? Do you feel sick? Can I get you anything?"
Aoshi clenched his teeth briefly to stifle the laughter tickling his insides. My poor weasel girl... she's so wound up she'll be chasing her tail in a moment. "I'm fine," he said, his voice wavering slightly. "Just weak. How long was I unconscious?"
"A few days," Misao said. "We thought..."
Aoshi saw the tears threatening again and grabbed her hand. "I know," he said, squeezing it. "Go get the doctor, Misao... then I don't want to see you again until you've gotten a good night's sleep. You look exhausted."
"Datte... Aoshi-sama..." Misao pouted and rubbed her swollen, red-rimmed eyes in a way that reminded Aoshi of the toddler he used to soothe after numerous falls and scrapes.
"That's an order," he added sternly, steeling himself against her protests.
"Hai, hai," Misao grumbled, turning to leave. As she slid the door open, she looked back over her shoulder at Aoshi, who was still watching her.
"Nani?" he asked.
"I... just wanted to make sure that I wasn't dreaming," she said, her words tumbling over each other as she beamed at him, then darted out of the room, leaving the door open in her haste.
Aoshi closed his eyes, the ghost of a smile hovering over his lips.
..........................
"Well, Shinomori-san, you're a lucky man," Megumi said as Tatsuya finished securing the bandage covering the wound across his chest. "With some rest and food, you'll probably regain your strength in a few days or so."
"What about this?" Aoshi managed to lift his left arm slightly. It was tightly bandaged and splinted to prevent movement. "It's not broken... why the splint?"
Megumi turned to set the bandages on a nearby table, considering how best to approach that subject. Her dislike for the cold, imperious onmitsu was as strong as ever, but even he deserved some consideration in the face of what she had to tell him. He's a blunt-spoken man... when he speaks at all. So I suppose I'd best be fully truthful with him...
She took a deep breath and addressed him gravely. "Your arm was cut nearly to the bone, Shinomori-san," she said. "Tatsuya-san and I did our best to repair what damage we could in surgery... but the wound will take weeks to heal. And even if it does... there may be permanent damage to your muscles and nerves."
Aoshi's eyes narrowed as he assessed the doctor's words. "So... you're saying I might not be able to use the arm even after it heals?" he said.
Tatsuya glanced at Megumi before answering. "It's possible, Shinomori-san... but we consider it a slim chance at best that you'll lose its full use," he said confidently. "We think it far more likely that you might experience some minor limitations, like loss of strength or flexibility. You should still be able to perform everyday tasks -- even writing, if you do so with your left hand..."
Aoshi didn't even look at Tatsuya. His eyes remained fixed on Megumi as his voice grew colder --
"So... I will be able to feed and dress myself. But I will never be able to hold a sword again. Is that so?"
"Most likely," Megumi said, matching Aoshi's icy tone. "Not with that hand, at least. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
"Chotto," Aoshi snapped, using his good hand to grab Megumi's arm so hard she cried out in surprise. "You can't leave until you answer my --"
"Oi! Get your hands off her!"
Megumi glanced to the side, half expecting to see Sanosuke standing beside her. Only it wasn't his voice she'd just heard.
It was Tatsuya's. He was standing close beside her, glaring fiercely at Aoshi, his hands clenched into fists and his face contorted with anger.
Aoshi regarded the slightly built doctor with cool amusement, loosening his grip on Megumi, who was so shocked at Tatsuya's uncharacteristic outburst that she made no move to extricate herself.
"And if I don't?" Aoshi said.
"You... you will answer to me," Tatsuya said hotly. "I understand you being upset... but you have no right to treat Megumi-sensei that way... especially after all she's done for you. You might have lost the arm completely if not for her skill as a surgeon. She's the finest doctor I have ever had the privilege of working with, and I will not stand here and watch you treat her with such disrespect."
The young man swallowed, and continued in a somewhat calmer voice.
"So... please remove your hand, Shinomori-san. Now."
Aoshi nodded slightly as he released Megumi's arm. "Gomen," he said to the flushed doctor. "The news was... surprising. I have some questions..."
"I will answer them as best I can," Megumi said shortly. "But not today. You need to rest."
Aoshi raised an eyebrow, and Megumi nearly smiled at his unspoken question.
"I know... it seems silly, after you've been unconscious for so long," she said, her voice somewhat warmer. "But you still have wounds that need healing, and rest is the best medicine for that. I'll be back tomorrow, all right?"
"Tomorrow, then," Aoshi said as the doctors took their leave. Megumi sighed, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she and Tatsuya walked down the hall.
"What a difficult man," she said. "I'll be glad when he's well enough to return to Kyoto."
Tatsuya scowled. "He's very ill-mannered for someone who spent time in the shogun's service," he said.
If only you knew the half of it, Megumi thought with a mental shiver, remembering her dreadful time spent in servitude to Kanryuu. "We've never really gotten along," she said briskly. "But it's not a problem, really. He's far easier to deal with than that psychotic cop Sai-... I mean, Fujita Goro." She shuddered. "Now that would be my idea of a nightmare... having to treat him..."
"Megumi-sensei."
She smiled at Tatsuya. "Hai?"
"Why do they treat you that way?"
Megumi blinked. "Dare?"
Tatsuya's brow furrowed. "These men I've met since coming to Tokyo... Shinomori... Fujita... Sagara... they're all so rude to you," he said.
Megumi's heart sped up. "It's because I'm a woman-doctor," she said offhandedly. "Many men find that offensive... that I don't know my place. There are those in Aizu that treated me that way as well... remember?"
"Not like them," Tatsuya said, looking uncomfortable before continuing in a rush --
"Were they... did you... spurn them?"
Megumi stared at Tatsuya in astonishment... then burst out laughing. "You think... they sought to marry me?" she sputtered. "And I refused them? Oh, Tatsuya-san..."
"You're laughing at me," Tatsuya said, sounding miffed.
"No, no," Megumi said, still giggling. "It's the idea... of Shinomori... whispering endearments... and Saitou... courting anybody... I still can't believe he's married..."
"Who?" Tatsuya asked in confusion.
"Oh, never mind..." Megumi said, waving her hand. "Trust me, Tatsuya-san... whatever history we have, it definitely isn't romantic..."
"What about Sagara?"
Megumi's smile vanished. Tatsuya added hurriedly --
"Gomen nasai. I know it's none of my business..."
"True enough," Megumi said, not unkindly. "But I may as well answer you. Sanosuke and I... let's just say that whatever was between us is long past."
Tatsuya let out a breath. "Is there... anyone else?" he asked softly.
Megumi's own breath caught at the sudden hope that sprang into Tatsuya's soft brown eyes. Sanosuke's words floated through her mind --
... He's got it bad for you, kitsune-onna... he's just too damn shy to do anything about it...
"Iie. Doushite?" she asked, just as softly.
"Because..." Tatsuya began, his gaze dropping to Megumi's full red lips, which she licked nervously as he drew closer.
"Because?" she prompted, her eyelids dropping half-closed in anticipation.
"Megumi..." he whispered as his lips met hers.
A few minutes later, Sanosuke rounded the opposite corner... and stared at the foxy-doctor and her handsome assistant kissing in the hallway. He grinned. So... she took my advice... good move, Megumi. And lucky for me...
Keeping an eye on the pair, he made his way to Aoshi's door and slipped inside. He'd barely had time to slide the door shut when a cool voice intoned --
"What do you want, Sagara?"
Sano practically jumped out of his skin. "Che, Shinomori," he groused, facing Aoshi. "You really know how to welcome visitors."
"You are not a welcome visitor," Aoshi said, frowning. "But I suppose it's best you're here. I have some things to say to you."
"Oh no you don't," Sano growled as he advanced upon the bedridden onmitsu. "I've got some things to say to you first... so shut up and wait your turn."
Aoshi quirked an eyebrow. "By all means... please continue," he said, inclining his head slightly.
Sano hesitated, thrown by Aoshi's gracious -- if subtly sarcastic -- response. "All right," Sano said. "I'm not much good with words, so I'll be plain -- Misao and I are in love."
Sano waited for a reaction from Aoshi, who remained silent, his face as devoid of feeling as always. The street fighter rolled his eyes and barked --
"Well?"
Aoshi shrugged slightly. "What do you expect me to say?" he asked mildly.
Sano's mouth dropped open in befuddlement. "I... don't know," he said, his brow wrinkling. "Guess I was expecting you to challenge me or something..."
Aoshi's eyes glinted. "Would you like a challenge?" he said, a hint of menace coloring his casual tone.
Sano bared his teeth slightly. "I knew it!" he snarled. "You are gonna try to make trouble between us. Teme... you tossed Misao aside easily enough when you were the only man she'd look at. But now she loves me in a way she never loved you... and you can't stand it."
Aoshi's mouth tightened. "You go too far, Sagara," he said, his voice as cold and sharp as the blades he used to slay Toushi.
"I always do," Sano said with a mirthless grin. "So I might as well say everything I came to say." He relaxed slightly as he continued in a more reasonable tone --
"I know Misao still adores you, and I can live with that. As long as you two are like family, I can stand it." His voice dropped an octave, his eyes narrowing to threatening slits. "But if you start playing with her feelings again... or ever give her anything more than a brotherly kiss on the cheek... I swear by everything holy I will do worse than kill you."
Aoshi bit the inside of his lip to stifle his scornful retort. Ignorant pup... I could kill you twenty different ways, and you wouldn't even live long enough to know you were dying. He exhaled sharply through his nose. But still... there is Misao to consider.
Outwardly, he regained his composure. "I have no desire to hurt Misao," he said, pausing before adding meaningfully --
"Or to see her hurt."
Sano folded his arms, glaring at Aoshi. "I would never hurt her," he growled. "That's your specialty."
Aoshi chose to ignore Sano's insult, despite his growing urge to give the insolent boy the fight he was angling for. He took another deep, steadying breath and said --
"I have to wonder what your intentions are toward Misao. If it's marriage you're seeking --"
Sano threw his shoulders back as he interjected --
"It is."
Aoshi's eyes glittered. "You do realize you are a completely unsuitable choice for a husband," he said, his voice tinged with condescension. "You have no family... no fortune... no gainful means of employment."
Sano ground his teeth, his eyes flaming. "Misao doesn't give a damn about any of that," he snapped. "In fact, she often reminds me that her situation in life is similar to mine."
"Misao is mistaken," Aoshi said firmly. "Her father's family is samurai, with a long and honored tradition of service to the shogun. Her grandfather was able to leave her a considerable amount of wealth, all carefully hidden to keep it safe during the wars. And her mother's family were merchants... they founded the Aoiya, and it was left to her after they died."
Sano gaped at Aoshi. "I thought... that was your place," he said.
Aoshi shook his head. "I prefer to let people think that, for Misao's safety," he said. "Okina and I agreed long ago to keep Misao's fortune hidden until the new era was firmly established. There was too much uncertainty in those days... too much random violence and thievery. Silence seemed to be the best protection at that time."
"So... Misao still doesn't know?" Sano asked, his cheeks slightly flushed.
"No. And I would prefer it if you allowed me to tell her," Aoshi said.
Sano nodded, his throat thick with apprehension. As much as he hated to admit it, he found the newfound knowledge of Misao's noble background and wealth thoroughly intimidating. He pictured the ramshackle farm where he'd spent his first eight years... the tiny village where his father and siblings still lived and struggled to eke out a meager existence.
Shinomori's right. I have nothing to offer Misao... I'm not fit to carry her bags, much less marry her.
When he was a boy with the Sekihoutai, Sano had grasped eagerly at the dream of equality Sagara-taichou had offered him. But he was well-aware of today's reality -- even though the Meiji government issued edicts abolishing the old class system, customs and rules of caste still applied when it came to making a marriage. Kaoru's marriage to Kenshin had rejected such conventions... but they hadn't had the pressure of family to contend with.
Shinomori's obviously against me... and Okina likely will follow his lead. They'll pressure Misao to refuse me and accept a better match.
Sano had a vision of Misao in wedding garb, kneeling beside a faceless rich man with fine silk robes. Then the man turned, showing Aoshi's face. Sano felt as if someone had ripped his heart out of his chest.
No! Right or wrong... good enough or not... I love her. I won't just walk away. This is Meiji... the old ways are changing. I'll earn the right to her hand. He curled his lip at Aoshi. Then we'll see who's worthy, you smug bastard...
Sano spun around on his heel and stalked out of Aoshi's room without bothering to say goodbye. Aoshi couldn't suppress the sly smile that crossed his lips as he watched Sano's abrupt departure.
Well, Sagara... you've never backed down from a fight... we'll see how well you'll rise to this challenge.
-- End of Chapter 21 --