Muted Discourse Ch. 6a (reflection)
Misao couldn't have been more delighted. After having sent the news to Kyoto and trained with Yahiko in the dojo all morning, she was taking a deliciously steaming bath. The morning had been relatively quiet, since Kenshin had left Kaoru and the children in bed early and had gone to talk to Genzai-sensei for particulars on Kaoru and the child's health. Yahiko had gone to the Akabeko to tell Tsubame about the news and flirt with her in his own odd, gruff manner, so Misao had the morning to herself for the first time in many days. The water gently rippled around her still body as she soaked languidly in the bath. Kaoru-san would soon awaken, and Misao knew that she would have to go out and make breakfast soon, but decided to cling to the comfort and silence of water a few moments longer. Ironic—a few years ago, she couldn't bear silence, but now she welcomed it with open arms, wishing to sink into its comforting folds and rest in its golden warmth. Misao knew that she wouldn't be able to stay from her Okashira for long; she realized now that she couldn't see her kunai without feeling empty, couldn't face diapers without memories, couldn't sleep in her big, cold futon at night without a sigh.
It drained him, all this socializing. Aoshi had just come from a meeting with the other members in the Aoiya a few moments ago. Since the day he had decidedly become Okashira again, Aoshi made a point in getting to know his members better in his taciturn and perceptive way, consulting them in meaningful matters and making an effort to interact with them more often. The novelty of attending to others and the pains that emerged from it were nothing in comparison to the emotional strains he had experienced in his youth, and these new troubles were more like growing pains—the green aching of young limbs in the morning.
He had taken on the task of checking on all of their training on different days of the week and teaching them onmitsu etiquette, educating them on the basics of medicine, politics and literature as well as informing them thoroughly on contemporary foreign and national issues. The others had been shocked and awkward at first, not knowing what to do with the sudden change of authority with Misao's absence. All the others apart from Okina, of course—the sage old man had seen Misao bring the papers to the temple on the night before her and had deduced early on about the changes the tea visit had wrought. Okina was proud of Misao—his little Misao-chan had brought Aoshi out of his past hell and managed to convince him to live on and heal. And Aoshi was certainly not a willing masochist—the fruits of his effort pleased him much more than afternoons spent trying unsuccessfully to purge himself of his sins by revisiting the past. The respect the others bestowed upon them grew along with their genuine partiality for him, and this healthy change had brought him more peace of mind than any prayer or meditation. All he needed was his ladylove to pay tribute to, and his last trial to surmount.
The coming of age befitted them both; resilience had made them strong.
Muted Discourse Ch. 6b
It really shouldn't have caused more than a spark. The open window didn't make matters any better, however. Kenshin had left some medicinal Chinese herb tea to simmer before leaving the house, and Misao discovered that it had more than simmered when she came into the kitchen—it had burned. The little shots of fire that came from the smoke and burning tea leaves were sent over by the wind to a nearby pile of newly folded laundry by the table. Once the clothes had erupted into flames, there was no hope left for the dojo; rice paper doors and wooden walls fell victim to the rampant fire, and the Dojo was quickly deteriorating. The state of affairs that Misao had seen once she came out of the bathing room rapidly alerted her mind, forming evacuation plans as she ran towards Kaoru's room to awaken her family. After spending several minutes arousing a drowsy Kaoru, the smoke had already thickened, and Misao dragged Kaoru out of the room with one arm while holding the baby with another. After inching their way outwards towards the backyard, Misao managed to get a drowsy hassled Kaoru out into the safety of her garden with her baby, only to hear Kaoru shriek, "Kenji! He must be still in there!"
Misao swallowed, nerve-racked, "Shit, that's right." She looked at the house enveloped in flames, sizing up the dilemma, and then thrust out an arm, detaining a nearly hysterical Kaoru as she said softly, "Don't worry, he'll be fine." The small onmitsu girl then ran back into the smoldering house as Kaoru prayed fervently that both would find their way out safely.
Misao thanked Kami-sama that she hadn't dried off. Her robe, which had been thoroughly wet due to her long thick hair and drenched body, provided protection against the raging fire as she groped her way into Kenji's room. She knew that Kenji probably wasn't conscious, due to the hazy smoke that was slowly poisoning his body, but decided to call out anyway: "Kenji! Kenji-chan!" When she entered his room and saw his prone body against the futon, she bit her lip and nimbly leapt to his side to carry him out. When she saw that a burning wood beam was about to crush the child, she lurched forward to save him. The sound of crushing wood on solid ground resounded duly as Misao felt a searing pain in her leg. The beam had fallen on her leg after she had tried to dodge it with Kenji in her arms. She ground her teeth in agony as she tried to ignore the throbbing and the free trickling blood on her calf and ankle. She ran shakily towards the garden, her free arm reaching out to feel for walls and sudden corners. She had nearly made the exit; she could see the backyard door, when she heard Kenshin yell hoarsely and dash towards her with his arms outstretched. Sensing danger, Misao swiftly tossed Kenji to him, feeling excruciating pain almost immediately and swirling darkness soon afterward.