Chapter 2 ~ Travelling
The limousine ~ dark, sleek and utterly discreet ~ sped quietly through the streets, its tinted windows reflecting the bright lights of its surroundings, yet revealing nothing of the passenger seated within. Like a silent wraith it passed by elegant shops and noisy cafes, the occasional pedestrian who stopped to admire the shiny black vehicle, the friends and lovers on the street chattering gaily in the round of life.
Oblivious to it all, Shinomori Aoshi sat lost in thought, looking through the window yet with eyes unseeing and turned in upon some secret memory. Unconsciously, his right hand played gently with something on his left sleeve, near the cuff of the dark overcoat he wore. His eyes, dark with shadows, nevertheless shone with a hint of a smile.
At this moment, his mind was far, far away…
…The wind was playing softly with tendrils of her hair, teasing more of that subtly enticing fragrance from the crown of blossoms she wore. In the background, the laughter of families still enjoying the Cherry Blossom Festival filtered through the late evening air, somewhat subdued by the languid twilight. She held a mug of hot chocolate in both hands, seeking warmth from the slight spring chill. Her eyes were clear, her gaze direct. The warm golden light gently bathed her entire figure, bringing out the rich highlights of her hair, the flush in her cheeks, the thoughtful expression on her face as she sat across from him.
Yet for once, he was unaware of those sights and sounds, entranced by something else altogether, hypnotized by the four little words she had just uttered.
"Why did you leave?"
Makimachi Misao sat at the small vanity in her room, putting the finishing touches on her makeup, then looking into the mirror with girlish satisfaction. She really wanted to dazzle them tonight at the ball ~ and here she shook her head with a rueful smile ~ no, she wanted far less, and far more, than that. Less, because she only needed one person's satisfaction; more, because that person's smile and approval meant more to her than anything else in the world.
A box of robin's egg blue velvet waited on the vanity table, open and eagerly inviting its new owner. Misao gingerly lifted its contents, her eyes sparkling just as much as the object in her hands as a certain memory was brought to mind…
…At first, she had thought that he would refuse to answer, that she had angered him with such a bold and direct question. Yet she refused to feel guilt, because she had to know, had an unspoken right to know ~ so she did not waver, and waited.
After what seemed to be an eternity of unmoving silence, he spoke at last, lifting his eyes in a deliberate gesture to meet her own. She almost gasped with surprise, for his gaze was just as direct as hers had been, honest and finally, finally, open. He was holding nothing back, and he did not falter.
"I left because I was in love with you."
She wondered, absurdly, if it were possible to set a record for quickest blood flow to the face, wondered if the unexpected wave of happiness and strange relief would permanently drown her, wondered if the tingling in her chest would ever fade away. She wondered, too, if he had seen the small stab of hurt that had surfaced for just a moment with his confession, wondered why his love for her had driven him away, wondered what his expression would be now, for she had turned her eyes away.
Would his eyes look as sincere now as they did when he had spoken those words?
Two pairs of eyes drifted closed, two faces wore the same serene expression, two hearts reached out for a shared remembrance.
His hand reached for her of its own volition, seeking to reassure her and smooth away the doubt and hurt that had sprung into her eyes. Yet he forced himself to stop midway, resting his arm on the table between them instead. He couldn't touch her yet ~ didn't have a right to, yet ~ until he had told her everything.
She waited patiently, with a peace she hadn't felt in many years. He had loved her! Whatever his explanation for leaving might have been, at least she had that certainty, now. And for the moment, that certainty was enough.
He breathed deeply before continuing, searching carefully for the right words, yet finding that the words he had hidden away for so long in his heart, had longed to speak for so long, came easily.
"When Okina took me in, I was a penniless orphan. He gave me everything I had, and more. He taught me to work hard, to develop useful skills, to forge my own path to a better future." Aoshi held out his hands, staring at his sword-callused palms. "He gave these hands the ability to wield kodachi, to form fists for kempo, to protect everything that was dear to me and never be vulnerable again. Even more than that, he gave me the love of a father, something I had never felt before. My parents had died when I was so young that I had no recollection of them at all, and the subsequent years I spent wandering the streets were…" he paused, suppressing the slight shudder that always came when he thought of his past.
She reached for him instinctively, wanting to soothe the old pain, but stopped herself. She couldn't interrupt him now, couldn't be selfish and prevent this unburdening of his heart. She could only sit, and watch, and will her sympathy and comfort to protect him from those ghosts of the past, to take on some of his pain for herself. Had he looked up from his clasped hands, he would have found her eyes focused intently upon him, shimmering with unshed tears, holding none of the pity he dreaded to see.
He smiled wryly, almost to himself. "Those years are best left forgotten." Then he met her encouraging smile and suddenly felt the gloom lift. His voice became softer, his eyes tender as they lingered over her face. "And two years after he took me in, Okina gave me the biggest gift of all."
Again, he lifted his gaze to hers, starkly honest and hiding nothing.
"He gave me you, Misao." The name came like a caress from his lips. "I…I had never known laughter before you. Never known innocence. Even after Okina saved me, all I knew was to practice as hard as I could, to push my body everyday to its limits, to become the strongest. But you…" and here he paused, suddenly at a loss for words, not knowing how to describe adequately what she had meant to him.
"…You were like sunshine." And he could go on no more. He wanted her to understand, to know the difference she had made in his life, from that first moment her five-year-old hand had found his own. He wanted to show her some of the warmth that she had ignited in him with the first time that she made him laugh, the awe she had inspired in him, even as a child, when she chased after rainbows and did not return crying when they disappeared ~ the faith she had given him with her simple belief that, "There will be other rainbows." She had made him leave the past behind, by force of will made him see and enjoy the present ~ for who had time to brood when constantly chased by wiry little girls and flying kunai? She had given him friendship that was pure and true, unconditional and undemanding, coaxing him gently out from the walls he had built around his heart with each childish game she played. When they grew older, she had helped to chase away his demons, her own face replacing theirs in his dreams. And at last, at last he had realized, that morning in Okina's garden, just how much he needed her.
How could he find words to describe such things?
But he had forgotten that words had long become unnecessary. When he next had the courage to look at her, he saw that she was smiling, smiling through her tears. And even without speaking, her smile told him that she understood.
"Please…" she whispered, still not bearing to touch him. "Please go on."
His eyes were closed now, as if even he himself wanted to hide from the memories to follow. "The moment I realized how much I…felt for you was also the moment I realized that I had nothing to offer you. Your family had wealth, lineage, influence…expectations. I had nothing. I left," he hesitated, feeling once more that old shame and helplessness. "I left because I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to make you happy."
It was then that she allowed herself to cross the gap, laying her hand over his trembling one. His eyes flew open in surprise ~ he had expected hurt, anger, disappointment…but not comfort! Yet he saw nothing of what he expected and feared, only sincerity against a backdrop of bittersweet regret.
"You didn't have to leave." She forced away the regret ~ now was not the time to be mourning over lost years. "I…Aoshi, you have ~ will always have ~ so much more than 'nothing.' What you meant to me, what your friendship gave me…cannot be measured by wealth or titles. If," her eyes suddenly clouded, and she moved to take away her hand. "If you thought that only those things could make me happy, then you didn't know me at--"
"I was wrong." And his hand turned over beneath hers to grasp it tightly. "Misao, I thought that if I went away and came back rich and successful I could give you a better life. But I was wrong, and I hurt you, and I was fool enough to not know it." His voice was urgent, pained. "God, Misao…all those years I was away, and you were hurting, I didn't know. I just wanted to reach my goal, be the best, and come back in glory to sweep you off your feet. I never used what Okina gave me to protect the people most important to me." He gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. "I never did what Gilbert said after all, did I? I brought separation and misunderstanding, robbed us of those happy memories we could have had together. How could I have been so selfi--"
It was her turn to interrupt him, and she placed a silencing hand over his lips. "Don't. Don't hurt yourself anymore. You weren't all to blame. I…I was too proud, too foolishly offended, to come after you for a proper explanation. I should have known that you wouldn't have willingly hurt me, should have asked the deeper questions. But I didn't, and rather than thinking of your own difficulties, I let myself be angry. So I was at fault, too." And, she wanted to but was not yet ready to add, it's not too late ~ for us to come hand in hand through life, with no memories between us but those which belong to each other. So she uttered the words like a prayer in her heart and wore the mask of a friend instead. "The past is gone now, but all the misunderstandings have disappeared too."
Her voice suddenly turned playful, perhaps to hide the blush creeping over her cheeks from the warmth of his fingers still curled around hers. "Aoshi, do you remember when I used to chase rainbows as a child?"
His eyes had lost their shadows. "Aa, I do."
Her gaze was piercingly blue. "Do you remember what I always said when they disappeared?"
And she laughed as recognition dawned, as a little girl's voice seemed to float in on the tides of memory.
"There will be other rainbows."
Smoothly, soundlessly, the limousine pulled up to the steps of the Ritz Carlton Apartments, Washington D.C.
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Background music was Faye Wong's "Passing Years."