Awakenings
An Aoshi and Misao Story

Part 2

Akira marked his place in the text with a finger and looked up to watch Misao. He had been watching her a lot since she had taken a job at his family's inn. He found her mysterious and fascinating. And beautiful, although he wouldn't admit that to anyone. Today, his mother had Misao dusting. He watched as she flitted from one end of the big common room to the other, running a rag over tables and pictures and anything else that looked like it needed dusting. She seemed absorbed in the task, humming a tune under her breath as she worked.

He had just worked up the courage to speak to her when his mother bustled into the room. "Akira! You'll go blind if you keep straining your eyes reading those silly books! Why don't you go help your brother's new wife with the laundry?" Akira shut the book and rose to comply, wishing fervently that his mother had decided to help Yuuki instead.

"I can help her, if you'd like, Harada-san." Misao said, taking a swipe at a bit of dust on a tabletop.

"That's quite all right, Misao-chan." His mother said stiffly. "Yuuki needs help carrying the heavy things and I think Akira needs to get a little exercise." She softened her explanation with a smile as she pushed her blushing son out of the room.

Misao shrugged and continued dusting. Akira's mother was a nice woman, but when it came to her youngest son, she seemed to become a different person. She was always nagging and correcting her son, nothing he ever did seemed to please her. Misao wondered why. She made a mental note to ask Yuuki next time she saw her.


Aoshi silently pushed the half-filled bowl of rice away and rose from the table. Okon resisted the urge to tell him to sit and eat, instead she silently cleared his dishes away. Though the dining room had the air of a tomb, the kitchen was lively. Omasu, Shiro and Kuro were gossiping as they cooked and cleaned.

Omasu looked at Aoshi's barely eaten meal and raised and eyebrow at her friend. "He's going to waste away if he doesn't start eating." Okon said with a sigh as she dumped the remnants into the garbage.

"You don't have to tell me that!" Omasu exclaimed, angrily sloshing the soapy dishwater. "He's lost so much weighthe looks like a skeleton! If only Misao was here"

"She'd make him eat!" Shiro said as he took the wet, clean dishes from Omasu, dried them and handed them to Kuro.

"She'd stuff his face!" Kuro laughed over the clinking of the dishes as he put them away.

"Oh, do you remember the time she made mud pies and tried to make us eat them?" Okon smiled at the memory.

"She cried so hard when we refused and then Aoshi ate one to pacify her! Do you remember the look on his face?!" Omasu dissolved into laughter, splashing water onto the floor. The others were laughing as well, each caught up in the memories of happier times.

"It was the only way she would stop crying." The voice that spoke stopped their laughter dead. Aoshi stood in the kitchen doorway, his face impassive as he spoke.

The group in the kitchen stared at him, wide eyed, unsure of what he was going to do or say.

"Okon?" He directed his steely gaze in her direction.

"Hhai, Aoshi-sama?" She stuttered, her face growing red.

"I won't be needing my tea tomorrow." He said before turning and walking away.

The kitchen was silent as each member of the oniwabanshuu tried to get their hearts to beat normally again.


Why is Harada-san so mean to Akira-san?" Yuuki looked up from the hakama she was repairing to give Misao a puzzled look. "I don't really know, Misao-chan. She was like that when I came here a few months ago. Hajime says she's just disappointed in him. Could you hand me the scissors?"

Misao handed them to her and asked another question. "But what did he do that made her disappointed?"

Yuuki neatly snipped the thread and smoothed the cloth. "There. You can barely tell it's been mended." She said with a satisfied smile. As she handed Misao back the scissors she tried to answer the question. "WellI'm not sure if this is true, but I think that he refused to marry someone." Yukki shrugged. "I don't know the story, that's just what I've been able to put together. I don't like to ask Hajime because it makes him angry."

Misao nodded. "Well, I was just curious. Thanks, Yuuki-san. Now, I'd better go, there's a large group coming in for a wedding and Harada-san needs help in the kitchen." She waved and rushed off in the direction of the kitchen, her curiosity more aroused than ever.


The wedding party was large and demanding and in the whirl of days that followed, Misao didn't have time to wonder. There were meals to fix, rooms to clean, laundry to dothe work never seemed to end. Everyone in the Harada family pitched in to help the staff and Misao often found herself working side by side with Akira. Though he was quiet most of the time, he was good company. He seemed interested in whatever Misao said and he surprised her more than once by making jokes that made her laugh out loud. By the fifth day of hard work, she felt rather close to him. Close enough to satisfy her curiosity.

"Akira-san?" She asked casually as she scrubbed sheets in an oversized wash basin.

"Hmmm?" He was involved in the same task she was, the sheer volume of laundry being rather overwhelming.

"Why is your mother so cross with you?" The words popped out, her intention of padding them first completely ignored by her mouth.

He stopped scrubbing.

"I'm sorryI was being nosy" Misao silently berated herself while resisting the urge to bang her head against the wooden tub.

"It's okay, Misao-san." He answered quietly.

They scrubbed in silence for a few moments before he spoke again.

"I was supposed to get married last spring, but I didn't." He said.

"You don't have to tell" Misao began but was cut off.

"I don't mind. My mother engaged me to a young woman from a nearby village but I refused to marry her." He shook his head and laughed a little. "I had this crazy notion that I would only marry someone I lovedsomeone who wouldn't bore me out of my skull every time she opened her mouth. Naturally, my mother was not pleased. More than that, she didn't understand why I wanted to wait for someone to come along. Why I would not settle for anything less."

Misao bowed her head, hiding the tears that threatened to fall. "I understand." She whispered.

Misao? Are you okay? Akira was staring.

She turned to him and smiled. It's nothing. Honest.

He abandoned his laundry and, wiping his hands dry on his hakama, he scooted next to her.

you shouldn't cry. You're much prettier when you smile. He brushed the tears off of her face, his hands lingering on her cheeks.

Her eyes widened and her heart began to beat faster. Akira, please She pushed his hands off of her face and backed away slightly.

He blushed bright red. gomen Misao. I didn't mean anything.

Akira! Hajime needs you! Yuuki called from the kitchen. Hastily, he jumped up and ran towards the kitchen and his brother, leaving Misao sitting with a slightly stunned expression on her face.


Aoshi flipped another page in Misao's Art of War running his finger over her scrawl in the margins. He had pored over every book she left behind, indeed, he had long ago memorized every question, observation and quip that littered her books. He kept them stacked in his room, and it wasn't unusual for him to carry one with him wherever he went as a sort of talisman. His favorite was Sun Tzu's classic text on warfare, Misao having written the most in that one book.

He sighed and closed the book with a snap. He was very tired, sleep had long ago become a luxury he couldn't afford. His dreams were most often full of visions of Misao, a laughing little girl, a pouting teenager, and, more frequently, an alluring woman. God, I'm going insane. He rubbed his face, wishing he could just wipe away his problems.

Maybe some tea would help.

Aoshi was clearly not in his best form. Had he been, the man standing in his doorway would not have startled him. He turned quickly, his hand reaching for his kodachi automatically. The man was slight with red hair and a cross scar on his cheek, and he was holding a steaming cup of tea. His eyes narrowed and his mouth set into a frown.

Kenshin smiled slightly, tilting his head in acknowledgement. He had long ago abandoned trying to convince Aoshi to quit calling him that. Kaoru and I were in Kyoto and we decided to visit.

Did you bring your entire household? Aoshi asked, sounding completely irritated by the idea.

No. Yahiko is minding the dojo. The others have long ago gone their own ways.

The former rurouni settled near Aoshi and handed him the cup of tea. They're worried about you. He said, fixing the younger man with an intent purple gaze.

Battousai, this is none of your business. Aoshi said coldly as he set the cup onto the floor.

Perhaps not, Kenshin said placidly, but I know Misao-dono would not like you killing yourself.

Aoshi slammed his hand down on the floor, staring at Kenshin with enraged blue eyes. You know nothing! He growled.

The red head remained unruffled. She said she was coming home, Aoshi. I've never known Misao-dono to not keep a promise.

Aoshi did not reply.

She would be most upset if she came home and you were ill, or worse, dead. Kenshin folded his hands in his lap placidly.

Aoshi looked up at him, ill-contained emotions flashing in his eyes. I never knew how much shehow much she loved me. He choked on the word love'.

Kenshin raised an eyebrow. Women often are very good at keeping secrets. However in your case, I don't think that Misao-dono exactly concealed her feelings towards you.

Aoshi choked back a harsh bark of laughter. No, no she didn't.

She'll come back when she's ready, Aoshi. The best thing you can do for her is to also be ready. Whatever is plaguing you, you need to face it. The rurouni's eyes darkened slightly and then cleared.

The door slid open, revealing Kaoru and a small red haired child, one hand fisted in the cotton of her kimono, the thumb of the other in his mouth. His eyes lit up when he saw Kenshin and he released Kaoru and tottered excitedly towards his father. He almost made it, but he was saved from hitting the floor by Kenshin, who caught him deftly. The boy laughed and hugged his father tight.

I'm sorry to interrupt, Kaoru said, smiling at the tableau her husband and son made, But Okina sent me to tell you both that dinner is ready. Kenshin nodded and rose from his position on the floor, still holding his son.

Kaoru turned her smile to Aoshi. Aoshi-san? I was hoping you would join us tonight, even though Okon said you wouldn't

Aa. I will join you. The okashira rose and bowed at Kaoru. She smiled brightly.

Kenshin carefully untangled his son's hands from his hair and suppressed a smile. Perhaps Aoshi would listen to reason after all.

End of Part 2

Part 3