In the Midst of Clouds ~ An Alternate Rurouni Kenshin Romance

Chapter Four: The martial arts lessons begins...

The morning did not agree with our emerald-eyed heroine that particular morning. For starters, she had toppled out of bed after nearly two years of managing to stay put on the single-sized dreamland retreat. Another big minus, Kaoru and Yahiko, the biggest snoop and nosy siblings extraordinaire, took a few pictures of her cursing at the general bad luck following her since "he" came into her peaceful life. And of course, who can forget the most obvious reason why a foul streak of luck decided to surround her like a disgusting stench of rotten vegetables. It was the first day she had to train with the 'I'm too good for you' Shinomori.

'The gods up there definitely hate me today!'

Kaoru was gritting her hair clip while gathering her hair up to its usual shiny high ponytail.

The hassle Misao tied up with throwing all the books for that day and brushing teeth together and the occasional strong expletive coming out caused Kaoru to wince more than once.

"Misao-chan! Mou is it really that bad to be a disciple under a master excelling in the arts?"

Misao frowned at the comment and spit a mouthful of toothpaste into the ceramic basin.

"Kaoru-neechan. If you have seen the plain arrogance that insufferable jerk show to the whole world to see, you would have understood why I couldn't stand him." Muttering under breath, Misao tossed her pencil case and the dreaded art materials into her school's conventional leather satchel and clicked it shut.

With a energetic wave and a strong smack on the back of her brother Yahiko to send him into a coughing fit in order to relive the toast lodged in his throat, Misao bounced to the door to put on her school shoes.

"Ja minna! I have to leave early for class duty roster. It's my turn today." She took off with the brisk stride to school.

The classroom was still quiet when Misao arrived to start her duty. Her partner in the duty roster as well, had not arrived yet, so she decided to get down to work by replacing the water in the flower vase and putting her favourite wild flowers picked up on her way to school. The purple colour and its natural fragrance always seem to trigger off a distant memory she knew was illogical as it never happened but nevertheless captivated her.

She rearranged the blossoms in a more pleasant-looking arrangement and stood back to admire her unpolished handiwork, brushing an errant lock of bangs falling off her forehead.

"Hmmm, not a masterpiece, but it does give a nice cheery atmosphere to the dreadfully dull whitewashed classroom." Misao clapped her hands in delight, unaware that the bane of her life, Shinomori Aoshi stopped by to indulge in a strange urge to look in and nearly allowed a smallest fraction of a smirk to touch his sharp facial features.

"A nice colour selection for the flowers. However you can improve on the appearance by trimming the leaves and giving them more dimension if you bother to snipe the stalks into different lengths." Aoshi stepped in and nodded towards the sight of lavender stuck in the glass container.

Misao spun around in surprise at the sudden intrusion and her face immediately took on the faithful black and stormy expression. "Who ask you?"

Aoshi shrugged. "Just giving a honest opinion."

Indeed, the flowers looked pretty cramped in the vase, but Misao was not about to admit that her nemesis is correct in his assessment. "They look pretty damned fine to me! Besides, I'm trying out a new art of arranging flowers." She stuck her finely upturned nose up in defiance.

Inwardly, Aoshi was impressed at her pride and unshakeable belief in self. However, she was still his disciple and it is important to stress the proper respect he deserves. Besides, he never lets up in the winning department either.

"Really? Are you aiming for the most unique design? I wish you all the best in wining the first prize for most over-used arrangement and the rudest artist ever." He left for the teacher's office and almost missed the sight of Misao's jaw gapping and trying to come up with a retort.

Almost. Aoshi did not notice a rare smile of amusement crossing his usual grim and straight-lined lips curling at the corners.

"Pffttt!" Not again!" Misao groaned at yet another failing grade scrawled in red on the returned Japanese ink painting she did for the previous week of home assignment. The obnoxious grin of her art teacher Miss Yoshikawa did not improve the matters by grinning and showing her effort to the entire class as a perfect example of failing. The damn art subject is doing nothing other than dragging her perfectly maintained overall grades down to a low "B". Of all the injustice in the world, she just happened to leave her talent in arts in her late mother's womb!

Besides what has talent in arts or the lack thereof got to do with a all- round education? Many times thoughts of being adept in art seem to serve no purpose to Misao when she was not planning to be an artist with an attitude as her choice of career. Who wants to be a famous painter or sculptor in the first place when such choices often ended the artists in the far away tucked corners, wrapped in barely warm clothing and stricken in poverty? Who has not heard of the great artists like Michelangelo only being famous at last after their death? A great waste of time to Misao if you ask her!

Glaring at her previous still-form sketches of flower arrangements in a pretty basket, a platter of fruits, a watch and (hmm, it that an apple?) many other unidentified objects, Misao's delicate features twisted into a mask of pure annoyance and an aura begun to surround her. Classmates started to detect the bluish light emitting out of her and due to past experience of such encounters, backed away cautiously.

At last the teacher managed to sense a foreboding sign and looked up to see his infamous and (un)talented student lighting up like a bright blue beacon.

"Ahem, Miss Makimachi?" The teacher cleared his throat nervously. "Would you kindly not give out the light? Look. How about if I waiver you a deal on this grade this time round?"

Misao's ki briefly toned down a little. "Honto?"

"Hai. Why don't I consider this upcoming art project as 40% of the total assessment grade? That way you may have a chance to graduate from this final year of art class?"

The sea-foam eyes lit up immediately and Misao nodded her head enthusiastically. "No problem. I will do this project as the grandest master piece you have ever seen." With her declaration, Misao bounded out of the art class with a cheerful outlook once again.

Miss Yoshikawa sunk back to her seat in relief when a student raised his hand in great trepidation. "Sensei? Do Makimachi have a chance to change her final year grade at all?"

The relieved art teacher glared at her pupil and replied carefully, "No. But it does save my classroom to be torn down to bits for the moment until the end of the year."

The hour of reckoning with the nemesis Shinomori Aoshi has been dreading has finally arrived. Misao stood in the dojo in her usual combat gear of navy combat gi warmed up and ready to prove just how wrong that pompous jerk had been when he assessed her as a little girl. She will show that 'sensei' just how little she was when she gets to knock a few teeth out of his pretty grin.

Seeing a set of kunai hanging on the wall of the dojo, Misao gently took them off and begun to juggle a few of them unsheathed in the air. Silver flashes rhythmically increased the pace and she was suddenly startled out of her meditative trance when a somber voice was spoken from a direction that Misao could not distinguish from.

"Not bad for one who has never received a formal training of ninjatsu. However, never let down your guard that the enemy may have a chance to sneak an attack on you."

Misao managed to collect all the kunai without cutting her own fingers, her expression thunderous with rage.

"Who ask you?"

A sardonic lift of Aoshi's elegant eyebrow further drove the final nail to the proverbial coffin as Misao threw her kunai just short of a hair's breath away of scratching her new sensei's cheek. The furrowed brow on Aoshi's usually expressionless face signaled Misao had better run (preferably without screaming like a hapless female victim in a B grade horror movie) as the ice blue eyes narrowed in warning.

"Oops." Misao backed ahead cautiously from the slowly advancing man. "It was an accident. I swear my fingers slipped."

'The insubordination has to be corrected. No disciples or followers of Oniiwabanshu are allowed to treat their direct superior with disrespect.'

"If your technique is this appalling, then I suggest rigorous basic regime to rectify in case more of such accidents can occur again." The words of Aoshi challenged Misao to argue his judgment.

Misao knew she has lost the battle and withered at these words. If she argued that her technique needs no further basic foundation training, it would mean that the kunai was intentionally thrown and thus subjected to a worse punishment. With a sigh of resignation, she dragged her feet to the area and positioned herself in front of throwing post.

"Would 1000 times be enough?" She threw a long-suffering look at her mentor.

"2500 times," Aoshi monotone stoically.

"What!"

"Everyday for one month."

An indignant purse of lips, Misao commenced while cursing him under breath. She swore to control her temper and to plot her vengeance in secret.

The Oniiwabanshu okashiira was expecting objections from the rebelliousness. When none came, he knew that this young disciple could reign in rashness, and that is an important factor in becoming hidden spies. Leaving the training grounds, Aoshi mentally begun mapping out new plans to incorporate in Misao's inauguration into Oniiwabanshu, unbeknownst to the girl herself.

++++++++++++++++++++End Of Chapter Four++++++++++++++++++++

Author's note: My humble apologies to all the readers. The lack of inspiration for so many years has stopped my brain juice from functioning. Pretty please to review after reading. I will update as soon as possible.