A
product of insomnia.
Standard
Disclaimers apply.
Part
5 - Recollections
--------------------------
Those
eyes. They are not hers. But he remembered seeing them before in a fight with a
vengeful man. They speak of loyalty, betrayal, hurt. Intense hatred resided
deep within the depths of midnight blue orbs, radiating. They shone with
ruthless determination, outshining even the riot of confusion held within. They
were the eyes of a desperate man long forgotten. They were the eyes of the
former… Aoshi Shinomori.
For
a moment, she resembled him. Masking doubt and the feeling of haplessness
futilely with blind hate, as though lashing it out on someone, anyone, would
help alleviate the pain.
Sano
charged towards the tree trusting his instincts to guide him. In a swift
motion, he dug his right foot powerfully into the earth, launching himself in
mid-air. As he grabbed at the offensive assailant, he deftly wound his left arm
around her neck, his right fist readying to deliver a frenzied punch when he suddenly
froze.
Long, bluish black hair that
reached past the waist. Eyes, the darkest blue but as cold as a frozen sea. And
did it not just rained kunai? Misao???
He
did not follow through with the punch but he held the writhing form captive in
his strong arms. She was shaking vigorously still when they landed, although
her irrational anger was now somewhat subdued. What will they do to her? She
was petrified.
Surreptitiously,
she felt his hold on her relaxed. He turned her shoulders squarely to face him
and shook her violently. "What were you thinking?!! You could have easily
killed her!" Sano yelled angrily.
No
answer. The woman whom she had tried to kill earlier, was now standing before
her. She held up her right hand and brought it down forcefully on Misao's face.
The sound of the clean slap echoed sharply in the air. Absent mindedly, Misao
touched her left cheek, feeling. She was sure it was smarting red from the
blow. "Misao! Stop this stupid game, right now!!" Kaoru bellowed.
-Game? What game? -
Misao's
thoughts ran, choosing to abandon her at this crucial moment and opting instead
to run a trip down memory lane.
-"Aoshi-sama, let's play a game, ne?" the
chibi tot invited-
-"Game? What game, Misao?" a dark haired youth
quizzed, as he looked up from his desk-
-"Uhmm… you know, first, you
SLOWLY count to ten while I go hide somewhere. …After that, you'll come find
me, okay?"
she explained-
-"Aah. Wakata," he replied-
-"Ano, … Aoshi-sama, you'll
come find me, right? No matter where I hide?" she wanted to reassure herself-
-"I will, Misao. I'll always
find you. No matter where you are, I'll find you." He patted her head, a
slight smile tugging ever so lightly at the corners of his mouth-
-"So ka… yatta!" she responded gleefully-
Yes,
find me. I'm sacred of being alone. Find me please.
FLASH
-"What if you can't find
him? What if he's not here?" a friendly red-haired ruroni asked-
-"Then I'll look in another
place. I will find him. Even if I have to search the entire world, Himura, even
if I have to cross boundaries of time, I will find him."-
If
you won't find me, then I'll find you
FLASH
-"To shape the future of Japan, I killed. I
killed ruthlessly and dishonorably. Now, I know how wrong I was. Bloodshed only
leads to more bloodshed. It puts us into the throes of agonizing misery,
revolutionizing lives only by instilling fear and hate through oppression.
Changes should be wise, made for the better, peaceful and work in favor of the
people. … I am not the person I was anymore. I stopped killing a long time ago,
Misao. Everyday, I pray for those whose lives were taken by my hands. I pray
for forgiveness, salvation for their souls as well as mine, and for hope and
peace for the future. I made a vow and it give me a reason to live on. …It is
true that a sword is a weapon that can kill but it can also be used to protect
the weak and the ones you love." Those eyes, they were placidly violet,
with flecks of gold that shone with resolve. She remembered seeing them just
shortly ago. But they were calmer here. -
The
ones you love… who do you love?
FLASH
-"Tell me, please. …If you
know what happened to my friends, …then please tell me."-
-"They were very brave…
Aoshi was badly injured. They were protecting him…" watery blue eyes of an
ebony haired girl turned to face her, uncertain of how to go on. -
-"They are dead, aren't
they?"-
My
friends. …Dead…
FLASH
-In
a hut. An injured man laid sprawled on the floor, blood soaked. He was there. His back was turned to
her. He told her something but she could only recall her heart constricting
painfully. -
I
found you… but you didn't want to be found.
FLASH
-On
a wintry night. The night they left her. She had hidden herself inside of the
closet, remembering that he once told her he would find her wherever she hides.
But he did not. They never returned-
But
you promised …
FLASH
-A
girl. The one she had tried to kill earlier. Waiting expectantly by a pile of
fresh rubble. She was injured. Her arm was wrapped in bandage. It was beginning
to rain. But she waited still. Hopeful. -
I
waited too. I waited long… but still… Nothing.
Misao
did not know what to do so she sensibly did the only thing her heart wanted to.
She wept. Unashamedly, openly, she wept. Her head was swirling insanely and her
whole body shook uncontrollably from the incessant mental assault. She felt
terribly weak. Broken. Depressed. Frustrated. Then darkness swept her, which
she readily welcomed.
--------------------------
"I
see. So you are friends of Natsu, er, Misao-chan. …Are you going to take her
back with you? Back to the ninja hell she once left?" the elderly woman finally
broke her silence after grappling with the explanation the short red-hair man
had offered.
"You
have no idea how miserable she was when I first found her. …Sending her back
would be like deceivingly pushing her down a tall rocky cliff. That poor child!
No! I will not allow that!" Haru continued despairingly.
"But
we are her friends! We don't want to
hurt her! This is not the genki Misao we all know! The old Misao is cheerful,
kind, determined and honest. She faces her problems with hardheaded courage and
we, her friends, help see her through. Just like her seeing us through! She isn't
one who smiles on the outside and cries in the inside, which is all your Natsumi-chan does! …Please,
Haru-san, think about her family, the
people she loves and those who love her, whom she'd left behind! Think of how they feel…Please!" Kaoru persuaded.
The
shouji was abruptly pulled back in a hasty motion, revealing a disoriented
Misao, shocking everyone. She looked pointedly at Kenshin before asking, "You
stopped killing a long time ago, right?"
"Yes,
… that's right. I'm…I'm not that person anymore…" Kenshin replied nervously.
"I
know. I remembered… Tell me, … Himura, who
is Misao?" Misao firmly asked, ignoring the questioning looks she received from
the masses.
"That's
you," he answered tersely.
"So
ka…thank you," Misao whispered, casting her face down, making it impossible for
them to read her. Then, gripping her hands at her sides into tight balls, she
slowly looked up at Kaoru and continued, "I'm sorry about this morning… Really,
I am…"
Kaoru
shook her head sympathetically, "Iie, I understand… And I'm sorry too."
Misao
smiled back weakly at her, "Please, will you take me back to Tokyo with you? …"
"No,
don't go, Natsumi-chan! Don't go!" Haru pleaded.
"Misao…"
she uttered as if trying to reacquaint herself with that name. "I am …Misao?" she asked Kaoru still,
ignoring the elderly woman, "Makimachi Misao?" Kaoru could only nod in
discomfort, worry clearly written all over her face. "Okashira … Oniwabanshuu….
I am the Okashira?" she swallowed hard, debating with herself on the answer. "That
means I … have responsibilities left untended, … no?" her left eyebrow, raised
questioningly.
Again,
Kaoru silently nodded.
"Tokyo… friends… I don't live in Tokyo… But
…Bring me to Tokyo with you before you send me back, ne? Please?" she asked
uncertainly.
"We'll
be glad to, itachi musume," the tall spiky brown-haired man spoke, grinning
wide.
Before
the elderly woman had a chance interrupt, Misao turned to face her and
determinedly spoke, "Please don't stop me, Haru-san. I need to remember... Iie,
Misao wants to remember."
--------------------------------
Three
months later. In a dingy dojo in Tokyo.
"Anata,
do you think she's ready? To go back to Kyoto, I mean," Kaoru asked her husband
fearfully. He was quietly cradling his newborn son to sleep in the nook of his
arm, while his eyes lingeringly observed the three figures in the garden.
Misao
was busy explaining to Genzai sensei's two granddaughters, on the cycle of
seasons. Despite the cold winds, she had insisted on wearing her old omittsu
uniform when she first started remembering about it.
It
was tough watching her regain her memories.
On
some nights, Kaoru would find her petit form hurdled in a corner, shivering,
crying indecently, as she remembered a bitter past or a sad memory. And there
were nights that got her rejuvenated the next day as remembered joy flooded in.
Like the day she remembered making mochi and the Aioya special and how she
enjoys beating the hell out of Yahiko, as well as her fetish for paper balls
and cranes. Her mood would change from the genki weasel girl at one moment
then, the depressed Okashira at the next. Memories does weird things to a
person.
Kenshin
gazed lovingly at his wife's pretty face and thinly smiled. "Aah. Shessa think
she's ready, de gozaru," he answered truthfully, "But it's still up to her to
decide."
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[Many
thanks to all who commented. It's great to know that there are actually people
reading this.]