Disclaimer: I own nothing; I'm just borrowing Watsuki-sama's wonderful characters for a while, and then they can go back to their proper universe.
Author's Note: I can't believe that I'm posting this. I fully apologize. My only excuse for this is sleep deprivation, since the only drug I'm on is insulin. Maybe it should have stayed on my hard drive? Oh, well. Too late now. ^_^ Okay, in this, Saitou Tokio is a friend of Misao's, so just stick with me.
Mending
"Tokio-san?" Misao called hesitantly as she passed the older woman on the busy Kyoto street.
Saitou Hajime's wife looked over her shoulder, shifting several parcels in her arms. "Ah, Misao-chan," she said warmly, stepping out of the way of other passersby to allow the ninja girl to catch up.
Misao took a deep breath and walked forward to join her. "I hope you don't mind this intrusion, but . . . "
"But?" Tokio prompted with an encouraging smile, gesturing for Misao to walk with her.
Misao followed her, then suddenly looked around warily. "Um, where is your husband?"
"Hajime is in Tokyo on a special assignment, I believe," Tokio replied. "What's wrong, Misao-chan?" She stopped walking and turned to look at the girl worriedly. "Is there some sort of trouble?"
"Oh, no, nothing like that, really," Misao said hastily. "It's just . . . " She stopped, suddenly feeling self-conscious, and more than a little silly for bothering her friend with this trifle. Then again, who else could help her?
"Your Aoshi again?" Tokio asked kindly.
Misao blushed, lowering her eyes, and nodded, her hand unconsciously fiddling with her braid, betraying how nervous she was. "He's just - I mean, he still keeps going to the temple, and - and everything, so I just don't know what to do, or how to help him or anything, and I hoped that you might -"
"That I might know how to help you?" Tokio prompted when Misao fell silent again.
"Hai," Misao replied awkwardly. "I'm sorry to impose on you like this, but I don't know what to do anymore."
"Hmmm . . ." Tokio said thoughtfully, shifting the parcels in her arms again.
"Oh, gomen, Tokio-san," Misao said, reaching for the parcels. "I'll carry this for you."
"Arigatou, Misao-chan," Tokio said, smiling. "You're such a thoughtful girl."
Misao blushed at the praise.
"Well, as to your Okashira problem, I may have something that you can use. It worked for Hajime, so I think that it might work for your Aoshi, too." She smiled brightly at the hopeful look in Misao's eyes. "Let's go see."
"Arigatou gozaimasu, Tokio!" Misao exclaimed, hugging her.
Tokio smiled again, returning the embrace as they continued toward the Hajime household.
Misao was very relieved that Saitou wasn't there. He really got on her nerves, being so quiet and hostile and without a sense of humor all the time, and she'd just die of embarrassment if he overheard the reason she'd come to see his wife this time.
Tokio rummaged through a teakwood box, frowning until her fingers encountered what she sought. "Ah, here it is!" she said triumphantly. "I knew I still had it."
Misao looked at the strange object Tokio removed from the box, curious and eager to see what it was that would help her Aoshi-sama to feel better. The object the older woman produced was less than she'd expected, though, and disappointment was clear on the girl's face.
Tokio laughed gently. "Don't worry. You just need to be shown how to use this. It should work just fine."
"Hontou?" Misao asked hopefully.
"Of course. If you think Hajime is bad now, you should have seen him before I used this stuff on him," Tokio said, shaking her head in disgust. "Men," she sighed as she often did.
"Well . . . if it worked for Saitou-san, it has to work for Aoshi-sama too . . ." Misao said hesitantly, then shrugged. "Okay. How do I use it?"
"You take it like so, and place it like this over his heart," Tokio explained, demonstrating on Misao.
"That's it?" Misao asked, surprised.
"That's it," Tokio replied, smiling, and handed the object to her. "Good luck, Misao."
"Arigatou gozaimasu!" Misao said happily.
********* Later that day **********
Aoshi sat quietly in the temple, facing the setting sun. A warm breeze gently stirred his inky black hair, revealing ice blue eyes for the briefest of moments. His hands were folded neatly and calmly in his lap, his expression cold and impassive, revealing nothing of his inner thoughts.
"Aoshi-sama?" Misao said hesitantly from behind him.
Misao . . .
As always, her presence was both a soothing balm and a painful reminder of what could never be. He looked at her silently, the impassive expression in his icy blue eyes softening marginally as he gazed at her.
Misao was holding something behind her back and shifting from foot to foot nervously. She was biting her lower lip, and her eyes looked troubled.
"What is it?" he asked quietly when she didn't speak. *I wonder what's wrong? She doesn't usually look so uncomfortable around me . . .*
"Ano . . . Aoshi-sama . . ." She broke off hesitantly, but then shook herself and continued. "I was talking to Jiya today, and . . . well, you can't keep doing this!" Her beautiful blue eyes overflowed with tears.
Aoshi blinked, startled. "Doing what?" he asked cautiously, feeling a twinge of guilt for being the cause of her pain yet again.
"Shutting us out, dealing with your pain alone, and pushing the rest of us away!" Misao cried, raising a shaking hand to wipe at the stream of tears flowing down her cheeks. "I-I can't just sit here while you're hurting and not want to do something about it, but you won't let anyone help you . . . "
Her voice broke on a sob, and all Aoshi could do was stare at her, stricken by the depths of the grief that she was revealing to him now.
He stood up slowly, unsure of what he should do. He didn't want her to cry anymore, but he also didn't want to encourage her in this infatuation she had for him. Still, she was hurting because of him, and he couldn't bear that.
"Misao . . ." he said awkwardly, wishing that he had Kenshin's talent of being able to say the right thing at the right time. You . . . you came here to help me?"
Misao stopped crying and peered at him through tear-reddened eyes. "Well, yes," she said, sniffling. All of a sudden, his heart softened at the sight of her, but he wouldn't allow himself to cross the distance between them. "I asked Tokio how I could do something to help you, and she gave me this," she went on, pulling a strange object from behind her back.
*Oh, no,* he thought in dismay, looking at the object warily. *I hope Saitou doesn't know about this! I'll never live it down.*
"What is that?" Aoshi asked warily.
"I don't really know," Misao said, studying it with interest, "but Tokio showed me how to use it to help you." She looked up at him again, her blue eyes bright and hopeful.
Aoshi fought a groan of dismay even as he melted in response to Misao's silent plea.
*What harm could it really do?* he rationalized. *If Tokio gave it to her, it probably won't kill me, and if it will make her happy to try and "help" me, then I guess I could let her try.*
"All right," he conceded. "What do I have to do?"
Misao's smile was like the sun, lighting up her entire face and making his heart skip a beat. I'm acting like a teenager, he scolded himself, but it made no difference.
"Please sit down, Aoshi-sama," Misao said cheerfully. "This won't take long."
Aoshi sat down, and Misao tore a piece of dull gray material from the object with an ominous rasp. He watched her warily as she approached him, suddenly regretting his decision to humor her.
******** Several minutes later ********
"Is that better?" Misao asked, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Or do you think I need to put more on?"
"This is like Saitou's," Aoshi said, running his hand over the dull gray material on his chest.
"Tokio said she used it on him," Misao said, smiling. "Do you feel better?"
"Strangely, yes," Aoshi said, his eyes widening in surprise. He smiled gently at Misao. "Arigatou, Misao."
Misao beamed. "You're welcome, Aoshi-sama."
Aoshi reached out to caress her cheek. "Please," he said very softly, "just call me Aoshi . . ."
Misao's eyes widened, and her jaw dropped open. "Aoshi . . ." she parroted intelligently.
Seeing her mouth otherwise unoccupied, Aoshi kissed her.
********* An hour or so later *********
"Makimachi Misao, will you marry me?" Aoshi asked, still somewhat breathless from her last passionate kiss.
"Hai!" she cried happily, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him again.
"Ano . . . Misao?" said a hesitant voice.
Misao stopped kissing Aoshi. "Hai?" she asked somewhat impatiently.
"Um, Tokio-san said that you . . ." the voice trailed off as the speaker entered the temple.
It was a young woman in her early twenties, and she paused when she saw the two lying on the floor underneath Aoshi's trench coat. Her eyes widened in surprise.
"I'm not even going to ask," she said vehemently, putting a hand to her forehead as if in pain and sighing a long-suffering sigh. Then she shook her head and continued. "Anyway, moving on. Tokio-san said that you have my duct tape. Are you finished with it yet? I need it back."
"Is that what you call this stuff?" Aoshi asked in wonderment, holding the object out to the young woman. She looked at him oddly for a moment, but took it from him without comment. "It's amazing."
The young woman looked at him, lips pursed, head tilted, and brown eyes narrowed in consideration. "Uh, yeah. Whatever." She shuddered, and turned to leave. "I didn't need that image. Have fun, you two."
"Mattei, Cianyin-san!" Misao called.
She stopped, then turned back around. "What?" she asked somewhat warily.
"Are you going to see Tokio-san again soon?"
Cianyin half-smiled. "Oh, it's possible, I'm sure."
"Thank her again for me," Misao said, her eyes shining with happiness.
This time, her smile was a bit more genuine. "I will," she promised, and promptly stepped out of the temple. "If only everything in life was that easy," she muttered to herself. "I would never have thought of using duct tape for that in a million years!"
********** OWARI **********
Q: What is the force that surrounds us, binds us, and holds the universe together?
A: Duct tape.
Sorry about the errors I just corrected; I read over this and realized that it might make more sense if I fixed them. I adapted this from an original work that I wrote for my own amusement, and not all of it got changed over to the form you see now.
This is my first and only Kenshin fanfic (I prefer not to mess with greatness too much, as my skill is nothing compared to Watsuki-sama's =). Please let me know what you think of it. ^_^ Oh, and if I used any Japanese words incorrectly, please let me know and I'll fix it.
Arigatou!
~ Lady Cianyin ~
Author's Note: I can't believe that I'm posting this. I fully apologize. My only excuse for this is sleep deprivation, since the only drug I'm on is insulin. Maybe it should have stayed on my hard drive? Oh, well. Too late now. ^_^ Okay, in this, Saitou Tokio is a friend of Misao's, so just stick with me.
Mending
"Tokio-san?" Misao called hesitantly as she passed the older woman on the busy Kyoto street.
Saitou Hajime's wife looked over her shoulder, shifting several parcels in her arms. "Ah, Misao-chan," she said warmly, stepping out of the way of other passersby to allow the ninja girl to catch up.
Misao took a deep breath and walked forward to join her. "I hope you don't mind this intrusion, but . . . "
"But?" Tokio prompted with an encouraging smile, gesturing for Misao to walk with her.
Misao followed her, then suddenly looked around warily. "Um, where is your husband?"
"Hajime is in Tokyo on a special assignment, I believe," Tokio replied. "What's wrong, Misao-chan?" She stopped walking and turned to look at the girl worriedly. "Is there some sort of trouble?"
"Oh, no, nothing like that, really," Misao said hastily. "It's just . . . " She stopped, suddenly feeling self-conscious, and more than a little silly for bothering her friend with this trifle. Then again, who else could help her?
"Your Aoshi again?" Tokio asked kindly.
Misao blushed, lowering her eyes, and nodded, her hand unconsciously fiddling with her braid, betraying how nervous she was. "He's just - I mean, he still keeps going to the temple, and - and everything, so I just don't know what to do, or how to help him or anything, and I hoped that you might -"
"That I might know how to help you?" Tokio prompted when Misao fell silent again.
"Hai," Misao replied awkwardly. "I'm sorry to impose on you like this, but I don't know what to do anymore."
"Hmmm . . ." Tokio said thoughtfully, shifting the parcels in her arms again.
"Oh, gomen, Tokio-san," Misao said, reaching for the parcels. "I'll carry this for you."
"Arigatou, Misao-chan," Tokio said, smiling. "You're such a thoughtful girl."
Misao blushed at the praise.
"Well, as to your Okashira problem, I may have something that you can use. It worked for Hajime, so I think that it might work for your Aoshi, too." She smiled brightly at the hopeful look in Misao's eyes. "Let's go see."
"Arigatou gozaimasu, Tokio!" Misao exclaimed, hugging her.
Tokio smiled again, returning the embrace as they continued toward the Hajime household.
Misao was very relieved that Saitou wasn't there. He really got on her nerves, being so quiet and hostile and without a sense of humor all the time, and she'd just die of embarrassment if he overheard the reason she'd come to see his wife this time.
Tokio rummaged through a teakwood box, frowning until her fingers encountered what she sought. "Ah, here it is!" she said triumphantly. "I knew I still had it."
Misao looked at the strange object Tokio removed from the box, curious and eager to see what it was that would help her Aoshi-sama to feel better. The object the older woman produced was less than she'd expected, though, and disappointment was clear on the girl's face.
Tokio laughed gently. "Don't worry. You just need to be shown how to use this. It should work just fine."
"Hontou?" Misao asked hopefully.
"Of course. If you think Hajime is bad now, you should have seen him before I used this stuff on him," Tokio said, shaking her head in disgust. "Men," she sighed as she often did.
"Well . . . if it worked for Saitou-san, it has to work for Aoshi-sama too . . ." Misao said hesitantly, then shrugged. "Okay. How do I use it?"
"You take it like so, and place it like this over his heart," Tokio explained, demonstrating on Misao.
"That's it?" Misao asked, surprised.
"That's it," Tokio replied, smiling, and handed the object to her. "Good luck, Misao."
"Arigatou gozaimasu!" Misao said happily.
********* Later that day **********
Aoshi sat quietly in the temple, facing the setting sun. A warm breeze gently stirred his inky black hair, revealing ice blue eyes for the briefest of moments. His hands were folded neatly and calmly in his lap, his expression cold and impassive, revealing nothing of his inner thoughts.
"Aoshi-sama?" Misao said hesitantly from behind him.
Misao . . .
As always, her presence was both a soothing balm and a painful reminder of what could never be. He looked at her silently, the impassive expression in his icy blue eyes softening marginally as he gazed at her.
Misao was holding something behind her back and shifting from foot to foot nervously. She was biting her lower lip, and her eyes looked troubled.
"What is it?" he asked quietly when she didn't speak. *I wonder what's wrong? She doesn't usually look so uncomfortable around me . . .*
"Ano . . . Aoshi-sama . . ." She broke off hesitantly, but then shook herself and continued. "I was talking to Jiya today, and . . . well, you can't keep doing this!" Her beautiful blue eyes overflowed with tears.
Aoshi blinked, startled. "Doing what?" he asked cautiously, feeling a twinge of guilt for being the cause of her pain yet again.
"Shutting us out, dealing with your pain alone, and pushing the rest of us away!" Misao cried, raising a shaking hand to wipe at the stream of tears flowing down her cheeks. "I-I can't just sit here while you're hurting and not want to do something about it, but you won't let anyone help you . . . "
Her voice broke on a sob, and all Aoshi could do was stare at her, stricken by the depths of the grief that she was revealing to him now.
He stood up slowly, unsure of what he should do. He didn't want her to cry anymore, but he also didn't want to encourage her in this infatuation she had for him. Still, she was hurting because of him, and he couldn't bear that.
"Misao . . ." he said awkwardly, wishing that he had Kenshin's talent of being able to say the right thing at the right time. You . . . you came here to help me?"
Misao stopped crying and peered at him through tear-reddened eyes. "Well, yes," she said, sniffling. All of a sudden, his heart softened at the sight of her, but he wouldn't allow himself to cross the distance between them. "I asked Tokio how I could do something to help you, and she gave me this," she went on, pulling a strange object from behind her back.
*Oh, no,* he thought in dismay, looking at the object warily. *I hope Saitou doesn't know about this! I'll never live it down.*
"What is that?" Aoshi asked warily.
"I don't really know," Misao said, studying it with interest, "but Tokio showed me how to use it to help you." She looked up at him again, her blue eyes bright and hopeful.
Aoshi fought a groan of dismay even as he melted in response to Misao's silent plea.
*What harm could it really do?* he rationalized. *If Tokio gave it to her, it probably won't kill me, and if it will make her happy to try and "help" me, then I guess I could let her try.*
"All right," he conceded. "What do I have to do?"
Misao's smile was like the sun, lighting up her entire face and making his heart skip a beat. I'm acting like a teenager, he scolded himself, but it made no difference.
"Please sit down, Aoshi-sama," Misao said cheerfully. "This won't take long."
Aoshi sat down, and Misao tore a piece of dull gray material from the object with an ominous rasp. He watched her warily as she approached him, suddenly regretting his decision to humor her.
******** Several minutes later ********
"Is that better?" Misao asked, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Or do you think I need to put more on?"
"This is like Saitou's," Aoshi said, running his hand over the dull gray material on his chest.
"Tokio said she used it on him," Misao said, smiling. "Do you feel better?"
"Strangely, yes," Aoshi said, his eyes widening in surprise. He smiled gently at Misao. "Arigatou, Misao."
Misao beamed. "You're welcome, Aoshi-sama."
Aoshi reached out to caress her cheek. "Please," he said very softly, "just call me Aoshi . . ."
Misao's eyes widened, and her jaw dropped open. "Aoshi . . ." she parroted intelligently.
Seeing her mouth otherwise unoccupied, Aoshi kissed her.
********* An hour or so later *********
"Makimachi Misao, will you marry me?" Aoshi asked, still somewhat breathless from her last passionate kiss.
"Hai!" she cried happily, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him again.
"Ano . . . Misao?" said a hesitant voice.
Misao stopped kissing Aoshi. "Hai?" she asked somewhat impatiently.
"Um, Tokio-san said that you . . ." the voice trailed off as the speaker entered the temple.
It was a young woman in her early twenties, and she paused when she saw the two lying on the floor underneath Aoshi's trench coat. Her eyes widened in surprise.
"I'm not even going to ask," she said vehemently, putting a hand to her forehead as if in pain and sighing a long-suffering sigh. Then she shook her head and continued. "Anyway, moving on. Tokio-san said that you have my duct tape. Are you finished with it yet? I need it back."
"Is that what you call this stuff?" Aoshi asked in wonderment, holding the object out to the young woman. She looked at him oddly for a moment, but took it from him without comment. "It's amazing."
The young woman looked at him, lips pursed, head tilted, and brown eyes narrowed in consideration. "Uh, yeah. Whatever." She shuddered, and turned to leave. "I didn't need that image. Have fun, you two."
"Mattei, Cianyin-san!" Misao called.
She stopped, then turned back around. "What?" she asked somewhat warily.
"Are you going to see Tokio-san again soon?"
Cianyin half-smiled. "Oh, it's possible, I'm sure."
"Thank her again for me," Misao said, her eyes shining with happiness.
This time, her smile was a bit more genuine. "I will," she promised, and promptly stepped out of the temple. "If only everything in life was that easy," she muttered to herself. "I would never have thought of using duct tape for that in a million years!"
********** OWARI **********
Q: What is the force that surrounds us, binds us, and holds the universe together?
A: Duct tape.
Sorry about the errors I just corrected; I read over this and realized that it might make more sense if I fixed them. I adapted this from an original work that I wrote for my own amusement, and not all of it got changed over to the form you see now.
This is my first and only Kenshin fanfic (I prefer not to mess with greatness too much, as my skill is nothing compared to Watsuki-sama's =). Please let me know what you think of it. ^_^ Oh, and if I used any Japanese words incorrectly, please let me know and I'll fix it.
Arigatou!
~ Lady Cianyin ~