Longing for your touch
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Rurouni Kenshin. Believe it or not.
Chapter 2
When done with me
Forget if you think I feel ashamed
A wild thing
Never felt sorry for anything
Bare Grace Misery
Nightwish
A new day came, but Misao didn't have any hopes for that day, nor did she have hopes for any day for that matter. She stared at the ceiling of her room, thinking. It had been a month since she had come here and not much had changed. Pain had lessened, that was true, but it was also true that this way she would never get rid of all the pain, not this way. And that was what she wanted, to get rid of all the pain. It was so long time that she had lived with the pain of loving someone who didn't love her back, someone who said no words of thankfulness, no words of sorries, no words of caring...Someone who said nothing.
Then suddenly a thought hit her and she stood up in her bed. A new thought, a new possibility. She dressed up quickly and ran out of the dojo, it was early and she would have lots of time before having to make the breakfast. There was a Oniwabanshu member in Tokyo, who would know how to help her to find her own apartment and a job.
She wouldn't return to Kyoto, to the place of her sadness, she would start a new life in here. She could help Kaoru and Yahiko with the students at the dojo and when Kaoru wouldn't be able to show movements anymore, she could do that for her. After all she hadn't watched hours of training of Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu for nothing. And she had been trained to use shinai and bokken, even though they were not her favourite weapons. She would find a job and apartment, then with time she might find a husband... some one who would be interested in her unlike Aoshi.
*This is it! How come I didn't come to think of this earlier?!* The answer was simple, but she chose to ignore it. She run through the streets without meeting a person, propably because sun hadn't even risen yet. At one of the houses, which looked like Sanosuke's, she stopped and after thinking for a moment, knocked at the door, but no one came. She knocked harder, nobody. Misao was starting to lose her temper for the first time in a year and a month and her next "knock" almost broke the door. She heard sounds of movements from the house and slowly, oh so very slowly the door opened, about 2 cm. *Is he intentionally trying to make me lose my temper?!?!*
"Who is there?" a tired masculine voice came from the little opening of the door. Misao was almost ready to smash her way through the door, and it felt great, being more alive than in a long time. "Makimachi Misao desu." The door opened quickly and a man with black hair with a little white in it, showing his age, and a small moustache stood in front of her. He was wearing a brown yukata and he, to tell the truth, looked like hell. His hair was pointing at every direction possible, his yukata was not....clean, his face was pretty yellow and he smelled like shit, but Misao forced a smile on her face. The man looked at her from head to toes.
"Yes...I guess you truly are our dear okashira. You have the looks of your mother." It still seemed somehow strange, people calling her okashira. For as long as she could remember Aoshi-sama had been the only one. *Yes. I'm the okashira of the Oniwabanshu. ...What did he say? I look like my mother...?* From what she had heard, her mother had been a beautiful strongwilled woman. *Am I like her?*
"Do you know any free apartments around here?" The smile that had brightened Misao's face had disappered and a look of calmness had taken it's place. The older man smiled. "Straight to the business, ne okashira?" A small moment of silence, neither one of them speaking. "Why don't you come in? It isn't nicer in here, but it is more private."
Misao entered his apartment and almost wished that she hadn't. It really smelled. It was almost empty also, there was only an open futon and one closet. And many sake bottles on the floor. Misao doubted that they would all be empty, it seemed that Tatsu had been drinking. He moved to the closet and gave Misao time to observe.
During the Bakumatsu Tatsu had been a fighter and a spy, very good at both. He used kenpo and a bow and had been one of the best shooters during that time from what Misao had heard and remembered. She had listened sometimes, no matter what others said. Now he didn't look like a oniwabanshu at all. *Is this what has become of all the oniwabanshu who haven't been contacted in years...except the message that I am the leader now?* Then another thought, more of a memory, entered her mind. Everything is not always what it seems to be.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Rurouni Kenshin. Believe it or not.
Chapter 2
When done with me
Forget if you think I feel ashamed
A wild thing
Never felt sorry for anything
Bare Grace Misery
Nightwish
A new day came, but Misao didn't have any hopes for that day, nor did she have hopes for any day for that matter. She stared at the ceiling of her room, thinking. It had been a month since she had come here and not much had changed. Pain had lessened, that was true, but it was also true that this way she would never get rid of all the pain, not this way. And that was what she wanted, to get rid of all the pain. It was so long time that she had lived with the pain of loving someone who didn't love her back, someone who said no words of thankfulness, no words of sorries, no words of caring...Someone who said nothing.
Then suddenly a thought hit her and she stood up in her bed. A new thought, a new possibility. She dressed up quickly and ran out of the dojo, it was early and she would have lots of time before having to make the breakfast. There was a Oniwabanshu member in Tokyo, who would know how to help her to find her own apartment and a job.
She wouldn't return to Kyoto, to the place of her sadness, she would start a new life in here. She could help Kaoru and Yahiko with the students at the dojo and when Kaoru wouldn't be able to show movements anymore, she could do that for her. After all she hadn't watched hours of training of Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu for nothing. And she had been trained to use shinai and bokken, even though they were not her favourite weapons. She would find a job and apartment, then with time she might find a husband... some one who would be interested in her unlike Aoshi.
*This is it! How come I didn't come to think of this earlier?!* The answer was simple, but she chose to ignore it. She run through the streets without meeting a person, propably because sun hadn't even risen yet. At one of the houses, which looked like Sanosuke's, she stopped and after thinking for a moment, knocked at the door, but no one came. She knocked harder, nobody. Misao was starting to lose her temper for the first time in a year and a month and her next "knock" almost broke the door. She heard sounds of movements from the house and slowly, oh so very slowly the door opened, about 2 cm. *Is he intentionally trying to make me lose my temper?!?!*
"Who is there?" a tired masculine voice came from the little opening of the door. Misao was almost ready to smash her way through the door, and it felt great, being more alive than in a long time. "Makimachi Misao desu." The door opened quickly and a man with black hair with a little white in it, showing his age, and a small moustache stood in front of her. He was wearing a brown yukata and he, to tell the truth, looked like hell. His hair was pointing at every direction possible, his yukata was not....clean, his face was pretty yellow and he smelled like shit, but Misao forced a smile on her face. The man looked at her from head to toes.
"Yes...I guess you truly are our dear okashira. You have the looks of your mother." It still seemed somehow strange, people calling her okashira. For as long as she could remember Aoshi-sama had been the only one. *Yes. I'm the okashira of the Oniwabanshu. ...What did he say? I look like my mother...?* From what she had heard, her mother had been a beautiful strongwilled woman. *Am I like her?*
"Do you know any free apartments around here?" The smile that had brightened Misao's face had disappered and a look of calmness had taken it's place. The older man smiled. "Straight to the business, ne okashira?" A small moment of silence, neither one of them speaking. "Why don't you come in? It isn't nicer in here, but it is more private."
Misao entered his apartment and almost wished that she hadn't. It really smelled. It was almost empty also, there was only an open futon and one closet. And many sake bottles on the floor. Misao doubted that they would all be empty, it seemed that Tatsu had been drinking. He moved to the closet and gave Misao time to observe.
During the Bakumatsu Tatsu had been a fighter and a spy, very good at both. He used kenpo and a bow and had been one of the best shooters during that time from what Misao had heard and remembered. She had listened sometimes, no matter what others said. Now he didn't look like a oniwabanshu at all. *Is this what has become of all the oniwabanshu who haven't been contacted in years...except the message that I am the leader now?* Then another thought, more of a memory, entered her mind. Everything is not always what it seems to be.