Disclaimer: Still don't own Kenshin. Still poor and unsueworthy. There really was some cheese in my fridge so now I'm eating a cheese sandwich on wheat bread… ahhhh breakfast of champions. P.S. Aoshi please please please please PLEASE can I get in your trench coat??????
A/N: I suppose I should be completely and totally honest here. This idea just popped into my head Saturday night. I banged the first chappie out in an hour, and the second chappie out in two. In other words, I have no freakin clue where this story is actually going to go! But I promise you it is going.
The Wildcat
Chapter 3
The Japanese Museum of Memories
The interior of the Wildcat was surprising to Aoshi, to say the least. On the outside it hadn't even really looked like a bar squished in between a Laundromat and a juice bar in a three story brick building complex. The sign bearing the establishments name in neon red lettering, had been the only adornment. The interior was a totally different story.
He felt like he had just walked into a museum of Japanese history. The color scheme consisted of fire red and black, scenes of dragons, phoenixes, and the bar's namesake, wildcats, swirling along the walls, drawn cleverly and skillfully, at least to his untrained eye it seemed so. The small tables clustered in one corner of the massive room were all lacquered dark wood, and Asian in detail and design, and polished lovingly to a bright shine. Even the stage and d.j. booth held an Oriental air. Possibly though the most astounding area to him was the far wall where sat a massive dark wood bar accented by gleaming silver railing. Behind the bar was the most concentrated arsenal of Japanese weaponry he had ever seen, all polished bright and under lock in key in an enormous glass case. The collection ran the length of the wall, lights spotlighting each piece of exquisite craftsmanship, each shelf swathed with precious red and black Chinese silk. He fairly itched with the desire to run over and examine each piece more closely. But Aoshi of course was not the type of man to give into such desires.
"Well here we are," she stated her voice frothing with pride. "This is my baby." She looked at him curiously when he didn't respond after some time. She frowned slightly at him when still he showed no sign of stupification or that he found any awe inspiring greatness in HER bar. She knew for a fact it kicked ass. Damn stubborn man. So instead she merely beckoned him forward with a wave of her hand, seating him midway down the bar. "I'll go start the tea," she called back over her shoulder disappearing through a door situated on the back wall of the room.
Ahhh now he could see her collection a little more closely. Katanas, wakazashis, and tantos appearing to be of the finest craftsmanship and from all eras of Japanese ancestry were displayed throughout with other weapons spaced in between. A large scythe taking up a large portion of the right end of the case. His eyes continued traveling over the treasures piece by piece, his mouth practically watering. Her love of Japanese weaponry rivaled his own. He was a master of kempou, and the use of two kodachi. Among other things. But all that aside Misao Makimachi was certainly turning out to be a surprising contradiction.
And that was another thing that was getting to him. Her name. Somewhere in his mind it struck a chord. Reverberating off of his brain cells almost in a hum. Makimachi, Makimachi, Makimachi………. Why did it feel so familiar? His eyes still scanning the meticulously arranged case while he bounced the name around in his head. His icy gaze drew to the center of the case where an elaborate focal centerpiece was arranged.
The central region was squared off three shelves high with a highly detailed drawing portraying a particularly gruesome scene of war and had twice as much lighting as the rest of the case. Hanging against the picture were sixteen shining, steel. razor sharp kunai of the utmost in craftsmanship and quality. Aoshi was quite impressed by them. The kunai were secured in a wide sweeping arc drawing his eyes instantly to what they seemed to be framing. His eyes widened further when he realized what the focal point of the case was.
Two of the most exquisite perfectly matched kodachi he had ever seen. Their sheaths resting against their stands were a rich blue-green enamel with swirls of black intertwining along its surface. Their blades so bright he could see his reflection in them from where he was sitting and their tips so sharp he whimsically thought they could possibly cut just from looking at them. His eyes narrowed in on the sheaths of the kodachi once more. They were the exact shade of Misao's eyes. Though of course not as warm or velvety looking as hers. Damn weird thoughts again, he sighed berating himself. A memory fluttered across his mind barely graspable, the strong yet gentle voice of one much older and wiser and years….
"Yes," the voice said laughing, "they remind me of them. Of my dear Sakura and my angel Misao. Eyes as deep as the ocean, so deep you could get lost in. And hair like midnight. I miss them more with each day that passes." his voice then tinged with sadness at his last statement.
Aoshi gasped. She was that Misao????? Better yet She was that Makimachi???? But he would recognize those kodachi anywhere. Ok so he could recognize them with a little push from the previous owner, but still who would have thought when she had slammed that door into his face that she would be his daughter.
The sound of china clinking, and soft footsteps snapped him from his ramblings, announcing Misao's approach. He looked down at the bar his hands were resting on noticing a steadily growing puddle of blood. Oh shit he had completely forgot about his nose, and his eye for that matter. Not to mention his more "life threatening" problem of employment. And here he was ogling some strange girl's sword collection and having tea like he didn't have a care in the world. Ok so maybe she wasn't a complete stranger, well not in the sense that he knew nothing about her. He most certainly did now anyways.
Misao's irritated voice beside him, broke through his thoughts before he could become completely immersed in them again. "God, are you planning on bleeding on every damn thing I own?"
Aoshi gave no reply to this instead lifting his gaze to look into her tiny face, studying her. The raven black hair, the aquamarine pools. Everything fit.
"Genrou Makimachi was your father, was he not?" though to his ears it sounded more like a statement then a question.
Misao's eyes widened in stark astonishment. "You… how do you……. How do you know that?" her voice barely audible in her surprise.
He fixed his gaze on hers, his next words almost causing Misao to drop the tea tray she was carrying. "He was my teacher."
********************************************************************************************
A/N: Kchan/Nekochan/treefairy/me opinion on this chapter. Ugh…. Too short and boring lol. One of those chappies that you have to write to inform but don't want to write cause well, it bores the hell out of you. Except the part wit all of the swords lol. Nekochan loves her swords. Sigh… anyways now that that chappie is out of the way I have finally figured out where this is going and I promise the next chappie will be more entertainment and less information.
And on with the Thank yous!!!
I never realized that all those reviews would make me feel so warm and fuzzy!!!!!! Purr purr purr……
Wolvenheart: Drone? lol ok……. Yes Aoshi does seem to get hit with things a lot. Then again I think he needs some sense knocked into him, so then, so be it. Glad you like this little ficcy of mine.
Battousai's Girl: Thanks a bunch, I'm going to try to keep updating as quickly as possible. Luckily I'm off of work for the next four days and am on spring break so I hope to get a few more chappies rollin'.
Nikki: Thank you! Hope this was soon enough for ya! lol
Zerianyu: Lol I went looking for you're A/M story and realized I had already been reading it…. Was very frustrated with Mis/Aoshi's interuption after the party…. Such is destiny… I'm trying to catch up on all of my reviewing but its been difficult with work, school , and trying to play ffx2 at the same time ha ha…. Thanks so much for the support……
And last but not least
Ukchan/Ookamichan/lunarwolf what ever the hell I'm callin you these days…… noooo I will break out my katana for this one, my shinai is not strong enough in this case. Actually since you are faithfully beta reading as we speak I will let it slide…. THIS TIME…. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Ummm review please, at least to make me feel warm and fuzzy………….
A/N: I suppose I should be completely and totally honest here. This idea just popped into my head Saturday night. I banged the first chappie out in an hour, and the second chappie out in two. In other words, I have no freakin clue where this story is actually going to go! But I promise you it is going.
The Wildcat
Chapter 3
The Japanese Museum of Memories
The interior of the Wildcat was surprising to Aoshi, to say the least. On the outside it hadn't even really looked like a bar squished in between a Laundromat and a juice bar in a three story brick building complex. The sign bearing the establishments name in neon red lettering, had been the only adornment. The interior was a totally different story.
He felt like he had just walked into a museum of Japanese history. The color scheme consisted of fire red and black, scenes of dragons, phoenixes, and the bar's namesake, wildcats, swirling along the walls, drawn cleverly and skillfully, at least to his untrained eye it seemed so. The small tables clustered in one corner of the massive room were all lacquered dark wood, and Asian in detail and design, and polished lovingly to a bright shine. Even the stage and d.j. booth held an Oriental air. Possibly though the most astounding area to him was the far wall where sat a massive dark wood bar accented by gleaming silver railing. Behind the bar was the most concentrated arsenal of Japanese weaponry he had ever seen, all polished bright and under lock in key in an enormous glass case. The collection ran the length of the wall, lights spotlighting each piece of exquisite craftsmanship, each shelf swathed with precious red and black Chinese silk. He fairly itched with the desire to run over and examine each piece more closely. But Aoshi of course was not the type of man to give into such desires.
"Well here we are," she stated her voice frothing with pride. "This is my baby." She looked at him curiously when he didn't respond after some time. She frowned slightly at him when still he showed no sign of stupification or that he found any awe inspiring greatness in HER bar. She knew for a fact it kicked ass. Damn stubborn man. So instead she merely beckoned him forward with a wave of her hand, seating him midway down the bar. "I'll go start the tea," she called back over her shoulder disappearing through a door situated on the back wall of the room.
Ahhh now he could see her collection a little more closely. Katanas, wakazashis, and tantos appearing to be of the finest craftsmanship and from all eras of Japanese ancestry were displayed throughout with other weapons spaced in between. A large scythe taking up a large portion of the right end of the case. His eyes continued traveling over the treasures piece by piece, his mouth practically watering. Her love of Japanese weaponry rivaled his own. He was a master of kempou, and the use of two kodachi. Among other things. But all that aside Misao Makimachi was certainly turning out to be a surprising contradiction.
And that was another thing that was getting to him. Her name. Somewhere in his mind it struck a chord. Reverberating off of his brain cells almost in a hum. Makimachi, Makimachi, Makimachi………. Why did it feel so familiar? His eyes still scanning the meticulously arranged case while he bounced the name around in his head. His icy gaze drew to the center of the case where an elaborate focal centerpiece was arranged.
The central region was squared off three shelves high with a highly detailed drawing portraying a particularly gruesome scene of war and had twice as much lighting as the rest of the case. Hanging against the picture were sixteen shining, steel. razor sharp kunai of the utmost in craftsmanship and quality. Aoshi was quite impressed by them. The kunai were secured in a wide sweeping arc drawing his eyes instantly to what they seemed to be framing. His eyes widened further when he realized what the focal point of the case was.
Two of the most exquisite perfectly matched kodachi he had ever seen. Their sheaths resting against their stands were a rich blue-green enamel with swirls of black intertwining along its surface. Their blades so bright he could see his reflection in them from where he was sitting and their tips so sharp he whimsically thought they could possibly cut just from looking at them. His eyes narrowed in on the sheaths of the kodachi once more. They were the exact shade of Misao's eyes. Though of course not as warm or velvety looking as hers. Damn weird thoughts again, he sighed berating himself. A memory fluttered across his mind barely graspable, the strong yet gentle voice of one much older and wiser and years….
"Yes," the voice said laughing, "they remind me of them. Of my dear Sakura and my angel Misao. Eyes as deep as the ocean, so deep you could get lost in. And hair like midnight. I miss them more with each day that passes." his voice then tinged with sadness at his last statement.
Aoshi gasped. She was that Misao????? Better yet She was that Makimachi???? But he would recognize those kodachi anywhere. Ok so he could recognize them with a little push from the previous owner, but still who would have thought when she had slammed that door into his face that she would be his daughter.
The sound of china clinking, and soft footsteps snapped him from his ramblings, announcing Misao's approach. He looked down at the bar his hands were resting on noticing a steadily growing puddle of blood. Oh shit he had completely forgot about his nose, and his eye for that matter. Not to mention his more "life threatening" problem of employment. And here he was ogling some strange girl's sword collection and having tea like he didn't have a care in the world. Ok so maybe she wasn't a complete stranger, well not in the sense that he knew nothing about her. He most certainly did now anyways.
Misao's irritated voice beside him, broke through his thoughts before he could become completely immersed in them again. "God, are you planning on bleeding on every damn thing I own?"
Aoshi gave no reply to this instead lifting his gaze to look into her tiny face, studying her. The raven black hair, the aquamarine pools. Everything fit.
"Genrou Makimachi was your father, was he not?" though to his ears it sounded more like a statement then a question.
Misao's eyes widened in stark astonishment. "You… how do you……. How do you know that?" her voice barely audible in her surprise.
He fixed his gaze on hers, his next words almost causing Misao to drop the tea tray she was carrying. "He was my teacher."
********************************************************************************************
A/N: Kchan/Nekochan/treefairy/me opinion on this chapter. Ugh…. Too short and boring lol. One of those chappies that you have to write to inform but don't want to write cause well, it bores the hell out of you. Except the part wit all of the swords lol. Nekochan loves her swords. Sigh… anyways now that that chappie is out of the way I have finally figured out where this is going and I promise the next chappie will be more entertainment and less information.
And on with the Thank yous!!!
I never realized that all those reviews would make me feel so warm and fuzzy!!!!!! Purr purr purr……
Wolvenheart: Drone? lol ok……. Yes Aoshi does seem to get hit with things a lot. Then again I think he needs some sense knocked into him, so then, so be it. Glad you like this little ficcy of mine.
Battousai's Girl: Thanks a bunch, I'm going to try to keep updating as quickly as possible. Luckily I'm off of work for the next four days and am on spring break so I hope to get a few more chappies rollin'.
Nikki: Thank you! Hope this was soon enough for ya! lol
Zerianyu: Lol I went looking for you're A/M story and realized I had already been reading it…. Was very frustrated with Mis/Aoshi's interuption after the party…. Such is destiny… I'm trying to catch up on all of my reviewing but its been difficult with work, school , and trying to play ffx2 at the same time ha ha…. Thanks so much for the support……
And last but not least
Ukchan/Ookamichan/lunarwolf what ever the hell I'm callin you these days…… noooo I will break out my katana for this one, my shinai is not strong enough in this case. Actually since you are faithfully beta reading as we speak I will let it slide…. THIS TIME…. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Ummm review please, at least to make me feel warm and fuzzy………….
