Chapter 4 ~ The Season Turns
"Misao?...Misao?" Himura Kaoru stifled a mischievous grin and waved her hands in front of her cousin's face. "Earth to Makimachi Misao!"
With a start and an irrepressible blush, the guilty party returned from the land of dreamers and stammered apologetically to the taller, laughing woman, "Go-gomen! I don't know where my mind was…"
"Oh but I do, Misao-chan!" Kaoru gave her an impish wink. "After that spectacle last night, I'd be surprised if you weren't still floating in the air. What a sight you were! Every single person in that ballroom had eyes only for you." Her voice softened in memory. "One person in particular…" She turned starry eyes towards her cousin. "Misao, that look on his face when you walked in ~ it was the stuff of fairytales. In all the years I've known Aoshi, I've never seen so much emotion on his face. He looked so utterly vulnerable, but so open too. More like a living, breathing, feeling person than ever before. And that kiss!"
"Kaoru!" Misao turned imploring eyes towards her grinning tormentor, then smiled despite her own embarrassment. "It was rather fun, wasn't it? Although at the end we were both kind of shocked to find ourselves alone in the middle of the room, with all those people just watching!"
"Oh Misao, you silly girl. With the two of you lost in each other's souls like that, how could we look elsewhere? And did you see this morning's papers? The press is absolutely wild about you and Aoshi."
Misao grimaced, for a moment glad that Aoshi had gotten himself away to an out of town conference and escaped the media blitz, then shrugged her shoulders and looked up ruefully at the twilit sky. Kaoru had come to meet her at the orphanage today, for one of those impromptu girl talks they often shared, especially after momentous events. Now en route to their favorite café, they lapsed into a companionable silence ~ each thinking deep thoughts, made more lovely by the other's familiar friendship. Around them dusk crept in on velvet paws, casting mysterious shadows upon otherwise familiar street scenes.
Bits and pieces of Kaoru's sisterly chatter floated persistently in Misao's thoughts, unwittingly adding to some of the worries that had begun to taint the surface of her happiness. "So utterly vulnerable…lost in each other's souls…the press…" They reminded that change had come, not just with last night, but long before then, long before even their meeting at the Aoiya. Change had happened in the midst of their loneliness and longing, their separation and misunderstanding ~ and now it menaced them once more. For they could not remain locked away in a separate world forever, a world constructed from memory and the desire to make amends for mistakes of the past. Yet she quaked at the thought of venturing beyond that protective cocoon.
So utterly vulnerable.
Did Kaoru know ~ could she guess ~ just how vulnerable Misao felt, too?
"Ne, Misao?" The former's thoughtful voice broke into Misao's contemplation, momentarily dispelling the threatening haze of fear. They had stopped in the middle of the pavement, and Kaoru's eyes bore into her own with the clarity of purpose that signaled the onset of a rarely seen, but always insightful, seriousness. Misao, who could stare down the most intimidating of trial lawyers, never quite trusted herself before that gaze.
"Do you love Aoshi?"
Kaoru burst into laughter at the younger woman's obvious surprise, but her eyes did not lose their serious expression. "I know that it seems preposterous of me to ask such a question, because to most people the answer appears to be too obvious, and half the world must take it for granted and expect the two of you to announce your engagement any day now."
"But Misao," and the teasing look slid off her face like a warrior's mask, to reveal the true strength within. "You cannot take for granted that the answer is yes."
Because everything has changed.
The statement hovered between them, unspoken but clearly felt, piercing through the fog of tangled feelings that had besieged Misao since the very beginning to show her the blinding lucidity of context ~ the simple fact that life does not stop for pleasure or pain.
Aoshi had changed. She had changed. And the world beyond them had both reshaped itself to fit their paths and dictated the directions they would take. Every single one of their choices and actions had affected other lives ~ Megumi and Sanosuke, Kenshin and Kaoru, Okina, Okon and Omasu ~ who, in turn, could not help but leave indelible impressions of their own. The relationship between Misao and Aoshi did not consist of the simplicity of two lines, converging, diverging, or parallel. It had always been far more complex than that.
Change was not merely a thing of the past, to be mulled over and analyzed. It coexisted with every heartbeat.
To answer Kaoru's question, Misao could not simply rely upon her previous feelings ~ could not depend upon the glory and fragrance of yesterday's bloom. To transplant such beauty would be easy and sacrilegious, an offense against the sweetness of the present, which was only waiting for the right moment to unfurl. The shield of remembered love was both invincible and inaccessible. For love to truly survive ~ to warm with each breath, glow with every heartbeat, shine with each tear ~ it had to be tended with patience, courage and honesty. With no walls and no defenses.
So utterly vulnerable.
…but so free.
Kaoru watched the dawning realization, and knew that the shadows had receded a little. Relieved, she pulled Misao into a tight hug, silently accepting her gratitude. Without another word the two friends continued on their walk.
Misao looked with wonder and awe at the woman beside her, and understood once again the reason why someone like Himura Kenshin had fallen so completely for the seemingly brash and ill-tempered Kaoru. For at this moment she glowed with a kindness and wisdom that was magnificent to behold…which suddenly brought to mind another reason why she must be glowing so.
"Kaoru, tell me more about the baby!" And she laughed as it was Kaoru's turn to blush. "Well?" she persisted, a teasing but genuinely curious lilt to her voice. "Tell me more about this wondrous world you've ventured into."
It was true, she realized, as she watched Kaoru's eyes deepen with an inner joy and her hands pause tenderly at her belly. Kaoru was in a completely different world now, and the happiness of that world would always be private and unreachable to anyone except her and Kenshin. Misao felt herself on the outside of that intensely personal glow, and could not help feeling a twinge of loss. She and Kaoru had always shared everything, before. Yet she would never be anything but heartglad for her cousin and dearest friend ~ it was more than enough to be "not the light, but near the light."
"Kenshin and I are still thinking of names. We want the baby to have a Japanese name, and to know and appreciate as much of his heritage as possible. We're even thinking about moving back to Japan, to Tokyo or Kyoto, for a few years, both to reconnect ourselves and for our child to be truly immersed in the culture. Perhaps we'll open our own dojo there, and take new students. I've always loved to teach, and Kenshin has such a special way of attracting talented swordsmen. We would have a quiet, ordinary existence ~ but far from uninteresting. Even if the colors aren't very brilliant, our happiness would be enough."
Hope. Tender, humble and undemanding, yet infusing Kaoru's every word with breathtaking beauty. Misao felt herself surrounded by its glorious light and reveled like a little girl first discovering the limitless possibilities of life. At that moment, the world did not seem capable of evil, disappointment, danger or failure.
It was to be a long time before she forgave herself for letting down her guard.
She didn't feel their ki until it was almost too late, and bit back a scream of panic as five looming figures detached themselves menacingly from the surrounding shadows. They were tall, solid men, dressed in dark clothes and each bearing some sort of weapon. One of them had a baseball bat, while the glint of metal shone in another's hand. Their eyes were trained on the women's handbags, and darted with sinister aim to their jewelry.
In the next heartbeat Misao had pushed Kaoru aside, shielding her with her own body as the five men closed in. With time enough for only one thought ~ "Protect Kaoru and her baby, at all costs!" ~ she made her move.
While the men had strength and numbers to their advantage, Misao had the crucial element of surprise and years of training at Okina's capable institution. She had sparred with, and learnt from, some of the most talented fighters in the world. Her most constant training partner had been Shinomori Aoshi. So it was no wonder that her eyes gleamed with both furious energy and deadly calm as she launched herself at the nearest two attackers. With a flying kick the front man was knocked into his accomplice; she landed easily on their crumpled heap and used the momentum to kick out against the third man. He went sprawling, conveniently, into a fourth, and both skidded into a very solid brick wall. Which left only the fifth attacker.
Who had one arm around Kaoru's neck, the other holding a knife to her throat.
No. Faster than he could blink Misao was already upon him, prying back his knife arm with one hand and pushing Kaoru to safety with the other. With a growl of rage he forced back his arm and slashed; she was too preoccupied with Kaoru's safety to guard herself properly and the knife connected with her shoulder even as he kicked her hard. She felt a white hot flash of pain and almost blacked out, but struggled back to the surface when she thought of Kaoru. Her wounded left arm fell limply to her side and she staggered from the impact of his booted foot, but she forced her screaming muscles to comply and kicked the knife from his hand. The effort it took to lift her leg left her unbalanced; she stumbled and fell onto her wounded side, almost going under again as pain exploded along her arm.
Kaoru's warning cry saved her from the descending baseball bat. Her first attacker had woken up, and she rolled away just in time to miss his vengeful swing. Cursing herself for not having brought her kunai, Misao lashed out with one foot and caught the side of his face, then pushed herself up to her feet. He howled in pain and anger and blindly swung his fist; she was too close to dodge it entirely and it smashed into her waist, almost knocking the breath from her body. As she staggered back she fell into the grip of her previous opponent, who locked his arms around her chest as his companion kneed her in the stomach, then slapped her across the face so hard that she saw stars.
But her only thought was still of Kaoru, and she knew that she had to do everything to keep her headstrong cousin from leaping into the fray. So she controlled the raging pain and glared defiantly at her attacker, sparing a moment to shout, "Stay back, I'm fine!" Then she lifted both legs and kicked the man in the groin; as he doubled over in agony she pushed off with her feet against his shoulders and flipped over the one who held her captive. The landing, however, was rough with her distorted balance, and she collapsed painfully onto the pavement.
What greeted her when she next lifted her head would forever be seared across her memories, like a fiery brand and its unspeakable torment. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, as she struggled to rise to her feet and prevent the man with the baseball bat from getting any closer to her suddenly cornered cousin. His footsteps echoed in her ears like thunder, her own sounding pitifully slow and unsteady. The bat rose ominously in his hands, and her mind cried out in a litany of despair, Too late, too late, too late.
Misao! Never give up!
With a strangled cry she forced her body to its limits and hurled herself between the weapon and Kaoru. The blow landed upon her injured side, the force of its impact causing her to stumble and fall back upon Kaoru. Her mind was enveloped in a thick haze of pain, and she screamed at herself to get up and dispose of the attacker. But Kaoru had jumped to her feet, energized by the thought of danger to her child, and with surprising speed seized the man's weapon from his astonished grip. Wielding it like her bokken, she quickly reduced him to a simpering heap on the ground.
But the strain and pressure took their toll, and even as Misao began to smile in relief her expression froze to one of horror at the look of sudden agony and fear on her cousin's face. Clutching her abdomen, Kaoru doubled over in pain; she lifted eyes huge with panic to Misao as the younger woman rushed to her side.
"Misao, it hurts!" She closed her eyes and moaned as another wave seized her. "Misao, help me! I have to save the baby!"
The ambulance seemed to take forever to arrive, though the rational part of her mind calculated only about ten minutes. They were the longest ten minutes of her life. Kaoru had just about passed out from pain and worry, and she could do nothing but hold her tightly and murmur soothing reassurances in her ear, trying desperately to fight back the panic and helplessness that threatened to drown them both. Kaoru's last coherent entreaty rang over and over in her ears: Save the baby. Misao, you have to save the baby.
The paramedic's eyes had widened in astonishment at the sight of the five prone figures scattered on the pavement, a look quickly replaced by concern as he took in the battered women before him. No matter how much he insisted, Misao had refused any of his ministrations with icy calm, stating in a voice that was at once flat and dangerous to please focus all of their attention to treating her cousin. It was a tone that no one dared to disobey.
Looking at her now, he could only shake his head and sigh. He was an experienced paramedic, with many years on the job, and he had seen his fair share of such situations. The girl was obviously in shock, and had frozen herself away from the rest of the world. Physically she held herself remarkably still, moving rarely and with precise, efficient actions intended to mask the severity of her injuries. Only her eyes revealed flashes of guilt and fear as they focused unblinkingly upon her companion. He sighed again and scanned her bloody, battered form ~ she couldn't fool his professional eyes. Her injuries required immediate attention, and she looked ready to snap from the strain. He knew that she was walking the brink.
Some part of him admired her for that, for the steel beneath the silk that allowed her to hold herself with such poise and control, in spite of injuries that would have brought down a grown man twice her size. The rest of him wanted to, with uncharacteristic violence, break the street scum who had done this to her.
He reached out impulsively to offer her his comfort; laying a gentle hand upon Misao's uninjured arm, he promised her quietly, "Don't worry, we'll do everything we can for her. And she'll pull through."
She looked at him with eyes that politely refused his sympathy but accepted his help. For a moment they shone with gratitude so profound that it illuminated her entire being, then the mask slammed down and extinguished the light.
But that singular glimpse gave him all the encouragement he needed.
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Standard disclaimers apply.
It appears as if the story has taken on a life of its own, and refuses to be finished. By writing this next chapter, I have committed Misao and Aoshi to a multitude of further adventures ~ I hope that you, my dear readers, will be patient and see them through! Thank you to everyone who offered their comments, support and encouragement, and to those of you who simply read the story. I promise that I will do my utmost to deliver the next chapter soon!