Catching hold of you
Hi minna-san !! Here chappie 2, yeaaaah !! The first part of the chapter is a bit long, I hope it's not boring but my fingers were running on the keyboard and I just couldn't help but write it. Enjoy !
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Chapter 2 : Time went by
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A white and cold flake swirled in the moody, greyish sky to land on Misao's nose, it melted immediately against the warm skin. The weasel girl sneezed, shuddering; she was going to catch a cold by persisting in waiting outside. Moreover, she had been right about the weather earlier: the snow was falling, soft like cotton but heavier and heavier, and an icy wind was starting to send up the dust from the street in front of the Aoiya. Staying here, waiting for Aoshi, didn't make any sense; no one ever knew when the baka would come home.
"Misao!"
Okon's annoyed voice raised to drown out the noise of the gusts of wind. She was standing with her hands on her hips on the porch, and as she managed to catch Misao's attention, she pointed a ladle at the stubborn girl.
"Misao, I've been looking for you for hours! What are you doing outside? I'm surely not going to look after you even if you fall ill with your extravagances!"
Grunting in exasperation, Misao reluctantly got up and came back in the inn. Anyway when Okon sulked like this, there was nothing to do or even say other than obey. Obviously irritated, the older girl went on yelling at the younger.
"Come on and help me with the dinner! Omasu burnt herself with a hot dish and the kitchen is a real mess. And nobody's going to help, of course! I'm always the one who has to care about everything…"
Setting aside Okon's grievances, Misao followed her in the kitchen, taking worried looks at the front door. She was going to miss Aoshi. She had planned to clarify the events with him before he even went home; but Okon's intrusion disorganized her whole project. If she wanted to have a talk with him, the best way was to dispose of whatever Okon wanted her to do, and then to come back to her post. Yes, that was definitely a good idea.
But when she faced the incredibly high pile of dirty dishes in the basin, she thought she was going to have a heart attack. She would never finish before Aoshi went home, whenever he would come. With a defeated sigh, she took the tea towel Okon was holding her and started plunging her hands in the soapy water.
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A spicy and delicious aroma was drifting in the whole Aoiya when Misao triumphantly put the last plate on the heap of clean dishes. But while the dishes were clean and gleaming, their cleaner couldn't lay claim to the same tidiness; soaking from head to toes, awry-haired, with lather on her forehead, Misao looked more like an imp than a well-mannered lady. She wrung the cloth for the last time and threw it onto Okon.
"It's done!"
Okon got the damp towel in the neck and shrieked.
"You idiot! Stop doing this or you won't get anything for dinner!"
She turned over to bawl at Misao and stared wide-eyed at the streaming and grinning girl in front of her.
"Misao!! Go on in your room and slip something dry on!"
As she splashed the older girl with soapy water, Misao bent down to avoid the kitchen knife thrown by the angry onmitsu, then sneaked out the kitchen to get her room. Indeed, she needed something dry; as long as she was in the pleasantly warm kitchen, the dampness of her clothes was not awkward, but now in the corridor with drafts running all over, the wet and cold material was disagreeably sticking to her skin and dissipating her heat.
Misao edged her way into her room, closed the shoji behind her and quickly removed her damp onmitsu outfit. She hung the clothes on a nail hammered in the wall, and then started rummaging in her shelves to find anything dry to wear. She lifted a pile of yukatas, disarranging her underwear as she went by, and frowned. Obviously the laundry had to be done, as she didn't found any of her usual shirts and shorts. Annoyed, she sighed. Damn, this was definitely not a good day.
She reviewed the clothes that remained on the shelves. Two or three kimonos that she had never worn and the matching obis, several yukatas, but far too light for a cold winter evening, under-kimonos and clothes she wore when she was four. Swallowing hardly, she starred daggers at the clothes scattered around her. But if she didn't want to wear her icy outfit during the whole dinner, the outcome was obvious: she would have to wear one of the detestable kimonos.
Reluctantly, she grabbed a blue kimono and slipped into it while grunting angrily. She was surely looking like a stupid geisha that way! As she didn't want to look too ridiculous, she went in search of a mirror. Were could she find a mirror? In Okon's room, of course. The appearance-conscious girl surrounded herself with heaps of mirrors, and would probably be furious if a weasel sneaked into her private room. This was really exciting and would whet her appetite, even if it couldn't make her clothes dry more quickly.
After having glanced in the corridor to check that no one was in sight, she merged into the shadows to run up to Okon's bedroom, giving a hint of a smile as she carefully closed the door behind her. Although she was already a young adult, she still liked edging her way through the Aoiya and exerting her ninja tricks on the others. But for the moment, she needed a mirror. She fixed her choice on a huge full-length mirror hung on the wall - Okon had definitely not been aware of the cost of such a piece of furniture.
Hesitantly she moved forward to the mirror, and stiffened when she saw her reflection.
The girl in front of her was not her at all. Transfixed, Misao looked over the thin waist, the small round breasts revealed by the tight silk, the petite but well-shaped shoulders, then she stared wide-eyed at her face in horror. Maybe did she feel like this because she was not used to wear a kimono, but she had the impression that she was a perfect oaf cramped in the tight clothes. She couldn't possibly come in the dining room dressed like that! Shiro and Kuro would tease her to death, and Aoshi…
She blushed furiously as she thought of what defects Aoshi could pick out on her clothes and herself. The kimono wasn't hiding a thing of her unattractive figure that she usually concealed with care behind her loose-fitting and boyish outfit. Surely he would notice her unwomanly body and…
STOP THAT, you baka!!
Misao sighed. As if Aoshi had those kinds of thoughts about anybody…
Anyway, she really looked clumsy in this way, and she would have rather missed the dinner than appearing in such laughable clothes. But she was hungry and tired, and her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since noon. Too bad, she would be ridiculous tonight.
But as she was folding her ninja uniform, a forgotten kunai hidden in her belt fell on the floor with a clear ringing, and a cheerful smile crossed Misao's lips. Maybe she was not going to be so ridiculous after all…
She grabbed the kunai and started to carry out her plan. Skilfully and carefully, she used the small blade like a knife in order to cut off the fabric of the kimono above her knee; she gashed the material until finally a long piece of cloth fell on her feet as she had managed to shrink the kimono as if it was one of her usual shorts. But the jagged-edged silk hung miserably on her bare legs. She rummaged among Okon's things on the shelves, and helped herself to an old sewing box - blessing the older girl for having shown it to her once when she had made a tear in her shirt.
Now grinning like a kid, Misao caught a few pins and stuck them in the cloth to fix up the makeshift hem. Then she jumped happily on her feet and faced the mirror to gaze at her work - and was rather pleased of what she saw. The kimono had been shortened in a skirt, a bit too short now as she had done a hem, but more than wearable; and as she caught a glimpse of a tasuki on Okon's chest of drawers, she grabbed it and rolled up her sleeves with the ribbon. Once more, Misao glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She was quite cute that way, she mused with a small smile.
But Omasu's voice raised in the stairs to call her, and Misao assumed she had to clear off quickly, if she didn't want to get killed by one or the other of the two young women.
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Omasu stared wide-eyed when Misao hurtled down the stairs, wearing an unknown blue kimono - or what she had made with it. Her jaw nearly hung open and Misao blushed slightly as she caught the surprised look in her eyes.
"Hey Omasu, nobody has done the laundry and I hadn't anything else to wear!"
Omasu's eyes softened and she smiled warmly.
"Oh but I didn't tell anything, Misao-chan! You're delightful like this! It's so moving to see our little tomboy dressed like the beautiful woman she has become! No way is Aoshi-san going to resist tonight !", she teased her kindly.
Misao flushed with anger, noticing that she hadn't taken her kunai with her and was disarmed.
"This has nothing to do with Aoshi-sama!"
Omasu grinned.
"Let's help in the kitchen. Okon is snowed under with the cooking, and she's going to turn crazy if she does get any help."
Reluctantly, Misao followed her, wondering if everybody was going to tease her about her clothes all the evening - maybe her idea was not so good after all; she definitely should have missed the dinner. But as a very angry Okon flung a full, hot dish in her arms, asking her to carry it in the dining room, she heard the front door opening in an especially violent squall of wind as someone rushed into the building.
Misao dropped the dish on the table near to where Okina was sitting and turned over to face a very snowy Aoshi, who was busy with brushing the flakes out of his trenchcoat. She couldn't suppress a smile when he shivered as one of the flakes in his hair fell in his neck, but she quickly regained a cold and unconcerned look. She ought to be angry with him, after all, he had stood her up in the training hall and surely she was going to have a talk with him about it.
But amazingly, instead of going up in his room as he usually did to have his dinner alone, Aoshi came in the dining room, bowed slightly to greet everyone and sat down at the end of the table. Misao stared at him for a while, and then turned away, cursing herself for being to intrusive. Yet inwardly she smiled: if Aoshi agreed to at least have his meals with everyone, this was more than a good sign. So she decided that finally she would be kind with him tonight: she wouldn't talk about her wait alone in the training hall.
Shiro and Kuro took their places around the table, looking slightly surprised that Aoshi was having dinner with them, then Okon and Omasu, helped by a softly smiling Misao, brought the last missing dishes. The weasel girl noticed that Aoshi frowned as he saw her clothes, and she tried to hide the blush growing on her cheeks at his both pleased and annoyed gaze. If he didn't like her dress, why didn't he turn his gaze away?
Nevertheless, Okina's look had clouded over as he looked over Aoshi sitting nonchalantly down to eat. He knew him well enough to guess that his unexpected company had to hide something. Scrutinizing the young man's steady face, he grunted slightly. Aoshi was certainly not there to please Misao, so he had something really important to tell to everyone. Let's find what could be so extraordinary.
Suddenly, as Misao was stretching her hand to catch a vegetable in the middle of the table, Aoshi cleared his throat and started speaking in a casual tone.
"I met Yukiko today," he told simply.
The dish Okon was holding slipped out of her hands and crashed with a terrible din, while everybody stared at Aoshi in disbelief and consternation. Muttering apologizes, the young woman gathered the broken glass in her apron and rushed into the kitchen to throw the pieces in the dustbin.
Misao stared around her, alarmed by the chill cast by a single sentence. Nobody was speaking and the silence was getting heavy. She glanced at Omasu, who was nervously clenching her hands in her lap, looking at her feet insistently; and she shivered as she felt the tensed atmosphere around her.
Yet Okina spoke as casually as Aoshi had just done, breaking the silence filled with unspoken threats.
"Oh really? How is she?" But he was smiling kindly and he did really look concerned about that girl - Yukiko.
"Fine, I guess," Aoshi answered, "She was going to Osaka to visit her uncle, or her cousin, I don't remember."
"If she plans to stay in Kyoto for a few days, tell her to move in the Aoiya. After all, she used to be one of us."
"I'll tell her."
Misao caught a glimpse of the dismayed expression on Omasu's and Shiro's faces. Yukiko - the name was quite familiar, but sounded oddly bitter. As Misao tried to refresh her memory, an image popped in her mind: a young girl, not much more old than she now - but the memory was an old one; short black hair gathered in a high ponytail, and furious, defiant green eyes glaring up and down at everybody. Yukiko… now she remembered: she was one of the youngest Oniwabanshuu when Misao was a little girl, and a very skilled one, she mused. But her memories about her were blurred: the girl was not very talkative, rather out of the team of the Oniwabanshuu - a lone wolf. When she thought about it, it seemed to Misao that the only one who cared about this Yukiko was indeed Aoshi; and he was the only one who got her friendship.
She quivered as a strange musing went through her mind. Aoshi had met that girl and hadn't come to their training; so had he given up their pratice to share more time with Yukiko ? Misao greeted her teeth angrily. Don't be stupid, baka. It's normal when you meet an old friend.
But Okon cut her reflections short, as coming back from the kitchen she noisily put a dish on the table, glaring nastily around her. Misao raised an eyebrow, a bit worried: never had she seen Okon this angry before.
The dinner ended up in a tensed and dismal silence, only interrupted sometimes by Okina's cheery voice asking for some rice or anything else. Finally Misao felt relieved when Omasu began to clear the table away and jumped on her feet to help, anxious to do anything that could prevent her from thinking or imagining things by keeping her busy.
Omasu mumbled she was coming soon with the tea, but Aoshi got up and apologized, telling he would rather have his tea alone in his room.
"I'll bring it to you in a few minutes!" Misao blurted out even before thinking. A second later, she was hitting herself mentally. She was angry with him! Why should she bring him his damn tea? Cool down, girl, she thought. You'll have your chance of scolding him like this.
Aoshi nodded slightly and leaved.
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Swinging from one foot to the other, Misao knocked hesitantly at Aoshi's door. She bit her bottom lip as she heard a slight rustling in the room, and Aoshi's low voice raised.
"Come on Misao."
She snapped the shoji open and walked nervously towards Aoshi, who was sitting at his desk; her hands clenched on the tray, she tried to look self-confident and detached, but couldn't help shaking slightly. She lay down her tray on the desk, and the cup ringed as she put it down with the teapot to take back the tray.
"Your tea, Aoshi-san."
Aoshi raised an eyebrow, shocked. Never had she called him "Aoshi-san" before, only "Aoshi-sama". It sounded strange, irrational and unpleasant in her mouth. He glanced at her, and saw her turning her gaze away.
"What's wrong, Misao?"
Her eyes focused again on him, burning like two sparks of fire about to explode.
"What's wrong? What's wrong? You sure know very well what's wrong. I was so glad about training with you for once!"
Aoshi looked annoyed.
"Misao, try to understand. I had a lot of things to do."
Misao turned around and walked towards the door, fuming and inwardly hurt.
"If you had really wanted to train with me, you'd have found time." Her voice rang out acidly, sarcastic and mocking, but even Aoshi who didn't have a gift for human relationships could feel the bitterness and harmful sadness concealed inside.
But before he could mutter a mere sound, the door slammed and Misao was out. Clenching her teeth hard, she went downstairs, still holding the tray. The jerk! Not even a word of apology… Not even a decent explanation! She kicked in a vase laying there as a decoration; the thin porcelain blew up and shattered, sharp fragments lying everywhere on the steps. Misao sighed - Okina was going to kill her, but worse, for a moment she had lost every kind of self-control, allowing a urge of violence to overwhelm her.
Recovering her composure, she went towards the kitchen whose enlightened door shone in the darkness of the corridor. Angry outbursts of argument hit her ears as she was only a few steps away from the door,
"If that bitch sets foot in here, I'll move to Okaachan's house!" This was Okon's voice, but barely recognizable as it was distorted by anger.
"Okon, you're too harsh with her. After all, she has never intended to hurt you or anything else." This time it was Omasu's, who was obviously trying to calm down her sister.
"What? She always thought about herself before anyone else! She was not even able to execute an order! Besides, when Makimachi-san was Okashira, she would've been booted out quickly!"
"But she was strong…"
"What's the use if you can't submit to any kind of authority? A bitchy little savage, this is what she was!"
Misao moved closer to the door, hidden in the darkness, to hear more of the argument. Were they speaking about Yukiko? Obvisouly yes, they were. A bitchy little savage?
Omasu sighed.
"Okay, she was a bit antisocial… I guess it's because of her disturbed character that Aoshi-san cared about her so much…"
"And I still can't understand what he found in that bloody-minded slut!" Okon added with a muffled sigh. "Moreover", she added in a casually pernicious tone, "it's a little strange that Aoshi-san met her by chance…"
Omasu sounded a little outraged.
"Okon, what are you implying?"
"You know very well! No one saw Aoshi-san during eight years, so no one can tell that he hadn't already seen her during this time!"
Flattening herself against the wall, Misao didn't lose a single word of the discussion, and her mind was rushing wildly. What? Aoshi-sama would have met this woman during his travel with the others? Th-they would have lived… together?
But Omasu retorted angrily, "Okon, you're worst than a snake! Nobody can prove that there really was a love affair between both of them, and even if yes, that's none of your business!"
"Oh Omasu, stop playing the young innocent! How couldn't there be a love affair between them?"
"Okon stop this! It's perfectly stupid!"
Misao didn't want to hear anything more. Blood was beating in her temples with a deafening din, as Okon's words resounded in her ears. She didn't want to hear anything else. She didn't want to know whether Aoshi loved this woman or not or whatever could have happened, whoever was this Yukiko. She wanted the noise to stop, she wanted to drop the tray she was holding and run in her room to shut the world out.
Instead of that, she came into the kitchen, and Omasu stared at her wide-eyed, throwing discreetly her elbow in her sister's ribs. Okon gasped and turned over; the two sisters exchanged an agreed glance and fell silent, going on with the washing-up. Misao laid her tray on the table, muttered a vague 'oyasumi nasai' and hurried out of the kitchen, eyes on fire, tears refusing to come.
Omasu followed with her eyes the petite form of their beloved weasel girl, and sighed loudly.
"Poor Misao… Things are not going to be easy for her…"
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End of chapter 2
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Author's notes : Sooooo ? Did you like it ?? Pleaase review and tell me !!!
The first part was long, but if you're reading this you haven't been discouraged ^__^ ! Hey I just did want to write that thing about Misao slaughtering a kimono ! It was funny to write.
I pretty enjoyed writing the argument between Omasu and Okon too. Wow Okon is on edge with Yukiko ! Tension's raising ! But don't be influenced, Yukiko is not such a bad girl… She's just a little drop-out, that's all. (I rather like her, actually)
But you'll see that in part 3… Misao facing Yukiko for the first time since years… What will she discover ??
