Chapter 2 ~ First Rain
He flung out an arm over her side of the bed, irrationally hoping that he was still dreaming but not surprised when he found the sheets already cool to the touch. On the pillow lay a single sheet of paper, with two words written in her hand that rang with the chilling finality of a farewell.
"Thank you."
Inwardly cursing his exhaustion from the previous day, when he had fought rush hour traffic, airport congestion, and a rising tide of panic to jump on the first available plane to D.C. and hurry to the hospital, he dressed and strode swiftly out of the apartment.
He knew just where to find her.
Whenever they had been troubled or upset as children, Aoshi and Misao had always withdrawn to the sheltered quiet of Roosevelt Island, to let loose in private the anger and frustration that would otherwise remain dangerously repressed beneath a prideful mask. The Island thus became their sanctuary, and they always tactfully left each other alone to vent in solitude, waiting patiently to welcome the other home. Until now.
He found her in the same clearing where he had practiced with his kodachi, shrouded in the early morning mist. She wore only a thin tank top and pants, as if she were unaffected by the spring chill. Indeed, she was already drenched in sweat, and he saw with dread that her bandages had begun leaking through again, their patches of scarlet the only spots of color in a tableau of hazy gray.
She was practicing her kenpo, going through each movement as precisely as her body would allow, seemingly oblivious to the pain it must be causing. From the way her face was drawn in fierce concentration and her breathing clouded raggedly in the cold air, he could tell that she had forced herself to repeat the set over and over again. Her knuckles were bloody from when she had pounded a nearby tree, her eyes glazed with exhaustion. To the untrained eye, she would have appeared graceful and efficient. But he did not miss the trembling in her upward kick, the desperate strain in her too-tight fists, or the slight faltering in her balance that threatened to knock her onto the forest floor.
An almost imperceptible stiffening of her shoulders told him that she sensed his presence, but she did not stop. Instead, she only went harder, intent on pushing her body to its limits.
Unable to hold back any longer, Aoshi reached out to block her next blow.
Her fist landed snugly in the grasp of his larger hand, its warmth threatening to overwhelm the cold of her body and the ice of her defenses. When he refused to release her she swung out with her other arm; he caught that just as easily and firmly. Through the fog she imagined his eyes to be mocking and triumphant, silently condemning her weakness and inferiority. But that was only what she wanted to see.
Anything would have been better than the sympathy and forgiveness that was shining in their blue depths.
An irrational anger surged wildly in her heart. How dare he forgive her so easily! Were her skills so laughable, so useless that any failure was readily accepted? Was she so weak that she was never expected to protect anyone at all? She struggled in vain against his grip, gritting her teeth in barely restrained fury. And when she threw her head back to meet his eyes again she lashed out against him with all the feelings of guilt and inadequacy that were her endless torment.
"Why are you here?! What right do you have to forgive me?! I failed Kaoru, I failed Kenshin, I failed you! Why won't you condemn me? Why won't you blame me or be mad at me? Am I so unworthy of your judgment?" Sudden tears welled in her eyes. "Why aren't you angry?"
He pulled her abruptly against him, so suddenly and so fiercely that she felt the rough wool of his coat against her cheek, heard the intense pounding of his heart, sensed the tightly wound fury that thrummed beneath his skin. For a startled moment she knew nothing else, felt nothing else, sensed nothing else, but Aoshi.
His arms tightened almost painfully around her. "It wasn't your fault," he spoke in a voice that shook with some barely controlled emotion. "You didn't fail. It wasn't your fault, Misao."
The sound of her name called her out of her trance. Her mind panicked, caught in such extreme claustrophobia that she felt almost nauseous. Too close! He's too close! If she stayed for a second longer in his arms she would drown in his sympathy and lose herself forever. She snatched at any way to strike him, any way to make him let go. He held firm despite curses and threats, a small hail of fists and feet. She sought desperately for something that would hurt him to the quick, that would cripple his unassailable strength and stop this bleeding of her soul into his.
"How dare you?" she railed, voice hoarse and suddenly filled with despair. "How dare you touch me when you know nothing about me anymore?"
He released her so suddenly that she almost fell. The clearing was at once so eerily quiet that only the harsh gasps of their breathing echoed in the still air. Her arrow had struck its target.
Not daring to look at him, she fled. But even through the hot tears that blurred her vision of everything else, she could still see the image of Aoshi standing alone in the forest clearing.
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Short. Meant to be longer ~ but this just seemed the right place to stop. Next chapter will be on its way soon! Thank you for all of your comments; they are, quite simply, the biggest reward any author can hope for.