A/N: Well, here we are everyone, the 'epilogue of sorts' for my surprisingly successful fic Riffs and Canvas. Thanks to all my readers are enclosed after the chapter. But again, thanks for all who read my story! Please forgive whatever typos are in there, I was excited to get this out! Without further ado, the finale! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, or the lyrics to anything by Hoobastank. I do own both their cds and paraphernalia from when they performed at Starland Ballroom!
Riffs & Canvas
Epilogue: Happily Aftermath
A two weeks out of the hospital and Misao still had nightmares. It was not surprising really, at least not to her. She had been plagued by nightmares most of her life. At least these dreams only bothered her at night instead of the waking nightmare she had lived for so long.
She had been in the hospital for over a week, recovering from surgery to the point where she bothered the nursing staff every five seconds to let her go home. Finally, Okina came and took her back to the Aoyia.
After a long talk about paperwork and custody fights and guardianship, he got down to brass tacks and told her flat and simple. Her father was being charged with child abuse and attempted murder, on top of arson. She was now a ward of the state, but he was filing for custody. Misao had no living relatives, so it was a matter of paper work and money to break the system and allow him to become her legal guardian. Well, Okina had the money and he had a good lawyer--the very same lawyer that Omasu used when adopting Soujiro--so it was really a matter of time. He had the determination to bring the family court system to its knees. Misao loved him for it.
So, two weeks out of the hospital, officially living at the Aoyia--though she was still bunking in Okina's room while he slept on the couch in his office until the spare store room could be fixed up into a new bedroom--Misao was happily back at school and finishing her mural. Yes, her chest still hurt and she was on medication for it. Yes, she had two broken ribs and her left arm was in a sling. As long as her right arm was good, she would draw. And as long as she could draw, she would work.
Working kept her mind off of everything else.
Like the fact that her father, her real father, disappeared three years before. After her mother died, he did take one of those traveling jobs for an artist, but it didn't last. The last anyone had ever heard from him, he had been touring in Italy. Misao was sad when Okina told her that. She hoped that he was still out there somewhere. Reality is cruel like that.
It took her away from the fact that people were looking at her more now. No longer were there whispers about 'Princess Makimachi'. There were pitying looks now that the truth was out. There were rumors and whispers about people who had known the truth all along. Misao chose to ignore those rumors and instead, she stayed to herself.
Soujiro, her dearest of friends, was at her side constantly. It was a comfort for Misao, who had never had the luxury of walking home with someone before, for fear that her father would find out. When she was in the hospital, he came every afternoon, bringing her a new bunch of flowers or a new sketchpad. Now that she was home, he was the one who defended her from rumors and diluted onlookers.
Working on the mural helped her forget about the lawsuits against Makimachi, and the media that followed her for comments. There were reporters who wanted the rights to interview her for newspapers and prime-time television. She declined from them all, preferring to hide away in the Aoyia to rebuild the life that was stolen from her in the fire.
Despite the attempts of the fire department, most of her house had burnt to the ground. There were few things that she was able to save, and even fewer that she wanted to keep. Her studio had been reduced to ashes, all her hard work and love, all the diligent hours she had sat at the desk and worked at the easel, all gone up in smoke. The only true things she had wanted to save were with her--Sae's portrait and Seraphim.
It had actually taken a good deal of her courage to go back to the house, even now that it was empty and sad to behold. She never really had considered it home, just a place she was expected to go. She walked among some of the condemned ruble and looked around with no emotion. When she had left, there was no part of her left behind. There were only memories, some good, some bad, but just memories now. Her home, as it always should have been, was the Aoyia. That was where her true family was.
Before she really knew it, Misao really had finished her mural in the music hallway. All the paint was painted, all the colors were colorful, and her heart felt lighter than it had when she began. Soujiro looked out at her from the wall, his body braced in the melody of a song, his eyes sparkling with that light that promised adventure and fun. Misao looked at herself, poised over the harp, her fingers already giving birth to a song that she could almost hear in her head. And the middle figure, the one she had longed to fill, stared out at her with Aoshi's blue eyes. His long fingers deftly holding a black guitar against his body. It looked so real, she could almost reach out and touch the warmth of his skin. A true musician should truly grace her mural.
Misao was proud of herself, as she always was of her work. Each piece was a little peace of her. Now that this work was over, she was a little disappointed that there was nothing left to keep her busy. Now she would have to face the reality of her situation, of her problems and her doubts. She would have to face facts, and Misao was always bad when it came to confronting her demons.
"Life like," a voice from behind interrupted her. Misao whirled, already knowing who would be standing behind her. When she looked up, blue eyes looked down at her with that cool humor she found as much frustrating as endearing.
"I didn't ask your opinion," she retorted calmly with a little smile. "I was just finishing up."
Aoshi broke his eyes from her to give another sweep over the mural on the wall. He had to admit that he was glad he ruined her first one. This seemed like a photograph caught on a wall. It was almost scary how good it was. There was one thing he was a little disappointed in. "Your self-portrait isn't true to life," he said while tilting his head to one side.
"What?" Misao blinked, turning to look as well. She thought it looked fine.
"You're prettier in real life," he drawled.
Misao suppressed a scoff and glared over at him. "Why do I need your opinion anyway?" she commented, wrinkling her nose.
"Because you just like me," Aoshi replied with an easy-going smile. Misao blushed a little but shook her head and gazed upward.
"Yes, I truly need art advice from a musician who cuts his music class!" Trying her best to ignore him, Misao went about packing the last of her supplied into the small basket Ms. Tae had given to her that morning. "I, unlike yourself, have to get back to class." While bending over to grab a small paint jar, Misao had a sudden intake of breath as pain jolted in her right side. She winced slightly; Aoshi noticed.
"Let me help you then," he offered.
"I'm fine," she quickly denied. "Just a little sore."
"You know, you're too stubborn for your own good."
"Listen you fre--" her outraged words were cut off when he suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Misao would never get used to this ploy because she had absolutely no defense against it. Spitting mad one moment, then being thoroughly kissed into silence the next. She sighed into his mouth; a show of submission.
When he pulled away, he smirked at her. "You're adorable when your angry," he told her. "But you should no better than to try and win an argument with me."
"You are amazingly self-assured," she replied sourly.
"I know," he agreed. "Can I help you to class now?"
"If you want." Aoshi nodded once, then he hooked one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders, and picked up Misao in his arms. She squeaked, not expecting this, but then started laughing. "I can walk you know!"
"I know," he repeated. "I'm just being a gentleman." Misao rolled her eyes, but laughed again.
On their way to the art hallway, they passed four people congregating in one of the courtyards. Kenshin, Kaoru, Sano, and Megumi, all stared, jaws open, as Aoshi walked by carrying Misao in his arms. Both smiled over at them. "Good morning!" Misao said cheerfully, waving with her good arm. They continued on, still laughing, before any of the others could recover.
"Ok," Sano said. "That was the freakiest thing I've ever seen." For once, Megumi agreed with him
Kaoru grabbed Kenshin's arm suddenly. "Do you know what this means!?" she asked him excitedly.
"No?" he questioned.
"It means we were right!" she said happily, clasping her hands in excitement. "They really are a couple!"
"That's the first time that's ever happened…" Megumi whispered under her breath to Sano.
"What?"
"Kaoru and Kenshin actually spread a rumor that's true."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aoshi help the phone in his hands. They weren't shaking, he wasn't crying. He wasn't even angry really. All he felt was numb. Numb and speechless. The operator's voice came up from the receiver, telling him the number was disconnected and that he should hang up and try again. As a reflex, he did just thought. Without thought or desire. A lump had risen hard in his throat.
In the same way he hung up the phone, Aoshi rose to his feet and walked out of the room, toward Okina's office. The old man was happily back to work on his paperclip chain. Misao was down in the restaurant with Okon and Omasu. The Aoyia had been jumping in the past weeks so all three women were almost always working together now.
When Aoshi knocked on the door, Okina looked up. At the look on his face, Okina knew that something was terribly wrong with his grandson. "Aoshi," he said, untangling himself and getting to his feet. "Come in."
Aoshi took a few steps in the room, closing the door behind him. With a deep breath, he turned to look at his grandfather. He swallowed once, twice, forcing the lump from his throat so he could speak. Still, his voice sounded forced and rough. "My mother called," he said slowly, carefully. Aoshi knew he was treading on thin waters.
Okina's expression remained guarded. "What did she say?"
"She was released on appeal," the teenager continued. "Since she wasn't the one driving, the charges against her were overturned." There was silence in the room so think one could almost cut it with a knife. No one dared to voice the rest of it, but Aoshi felt that he had to, for the sake of his pulse if nothing else. "She's on her way here, to get me."
Okina nodded only once, eye never leaving his grandson's face. "You should go pack your things," he said quietly. Aoshi silently agreed as he turned and walked from the room.
A dark cloud hung over him as he reached for the suitcase in his closet. He mechanically began putting things in the case, clothes and accessories. His guitar--in case--was staring at him from across the room. He didn't want to leave. The Aoyia had become a home to him. Okina had become home to him. Most of all, worst of all, how was he going to tell Misao?
For so long he had worked, fought, to get her to trust him as she did now. To see her as happy as she was now. How was he supposed to tell her, the girl that he loved, that he was leaving?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Misao happily worked behind the counter at the Aoyia. True waitress-ing required two good arms. Omasu and Okon were taking care of that while she worked the register--and got drinks if both women were tied up. She was thrilled--the Aoyia hadn't been this packed in weeks because of the weather. Now, everything was in full swing once more.
When it was time for her break, Misao noticed Aoshi loitering around by the employee staircase, the one that led to their rooms. She signaled to Okon that she was taking off and the older woman nodded back. Jovially, Misao hopped over to where Aoshi was lurking.
"What are you up to?" she asked him. When she saw the look on his face, her good mood slowly drained away. "What's wrong?"
"Come with me," he said quietly, holding out his hand to her. Misao took it, threading her fingers with his as Aoshi led her through the kitchen and to the small alley out back. "I've got something important to tell you," he said with the same dismal tone once they were out of all hearing range. Unhappily, he dropped her hand. Misao felt that foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach, the one that always told her that something bad was about to happen. Just about now, her mother's voice would kick in.
"What is it?" she asked quietly, trying to settle her nerves.
"I got a call from my mother a little while ago," he began. "Do you remember what I told you about my mom, that she was arrested and that's why I came here and all?"
"Yeah," Misao agreed with a nod. "That Gramps got temporary custody until she was released and all."
Aoshi took a deep breath, then took the plunge. "She was released yesterday, on an appeal." He saw the conclusion dawn on her face, horror beginning to cloud her eyes. "Grandpa was given custody of me until I finished school because they thought mom would be in jail at least a year. And because I'm almost eighteen. Now, because I'm technically still a minor, and because I'm still in school, I'm still in custody of my mother until I graduate."
Misao took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "When will she be here?"
Aoshi was reluctant, but the pleading in her eyes made the answer come unbidden to his lips. "She's coming to get me in about an hour."
"And you're going back to the city?"
"Yes."
There was nothing to be said that could ease the sudden jolt that penetrated Misao in that one moment. For the first time ever, her life seemed to be perfect. She should have known not to get too happy, that it would upset the cosmic balance and make everything fall in a domino effect. It was a harsh truth, that her life was never supposed to be a happy one, but Misao was used to harsh truths. And like with all the other harsh truths that had come and gone in her life, Misao would endure and she would continue to live. Even if it killed her to do it.
Aoshi watched her reaction. Shock, anger, disappointment, and then undiluted sorrow. He wanted to say something to take that look from her eyes. Do something that would banish the tears that began to well in those green orbs. He wished for something, anything, to change this.
But that was when Misao did something he did not intend. She smiled up at him. Her eyes filling, almost overflowing, but she was smiling up at him a second before her arms were around his neck. Aoshi was taken back, blinking stunned before he brought his arms up around her lightly. "Misao…"
For a long moment, Misao simply held him in her arms, feeling the warm of his body and trying to memorize everything that was Aoshi. "Thank you," she said in his ear, "for saving my life." He heard the tears in her voice and it made his throat tighten. "I need you to know," she stopped to swallow a sob trying to come up from her chest. There was enough of a hitch in her voice as it was. "I need you to know that I love you."
Aoshi stiffened. He had to admit that part of him so wanted to hear those words, but another part of him knew that this would only make everything so much harder, hurt that much more. He closed his eyes to block out those thoughts, just concentrating on the girl in his arms.
"So ten years from now," Misao continued. She needed to finish this before she lost her composure. "When you are the front man for a musical revolution, and everyone's throwing themselves at you." She pulled back enough to look into his eyes. Aoshi wanted to tell her to stop. He didn't want to hear it. He wanted to believe that this wasn't over, that he could still come to the Aoyia in the summers like he did as a child, that there was some way for them to be together. "You can always know that I loved you first."
Misao leaned up, eyes closed, fitting her mouth to his. That was a desperate kiss that she had held inside her heart for a long time, because there was always that little part of her that expected this time would come. That dark, long repressed part of Misao that expected Aoshi to leave her from the very beginning. She let it sweep through her and let her kiss him with all that desperation and anguish and love that swamped her heart. And when she pulled away, when she gazed into his eyes once more, she muttered the most hated word in the world. "Goodbye." And then she turn and ran from him.
Aoshi let her go, knowing that it was better than going after her. Better than pretending there was something that could be changed, something that could be done. What could be said that wasn't said? Should he tell her what was in his heart? That would only leave Misao more heart-broken, knowing that everything she had given him was returned twice as hard. It would only be harder on her to know that, and he could make her suffer. Aoshi Shinomori was simply unable to hurt Misao Makimachi, even if he had wanted to.
So he let her go. And knew that it was the hardest, most stupid thing he would ever do in all his life. He just went back inside, took his suitcase and his guitar, and went outside to wait for his mother to get him.
Sometimes, a person in motion can forget if their heart is shattered into more pieces than the Berlin Wall. Aoshi wasn't one of them.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ (A/N: I doubt any of you realize how tempted I was to simply leave it like that…)
Misao fled to her old hiding place in the Aoyia, a place she hadn't been to in years. In the far corner of the kitchens, there was a tiny store room barely as big as a closet. Misao had remembered fitting there more comfortably when she was twelve, but it was still big enough for her to curl up, hugging her knees to her chest, and have a good cry. She remembered going there when she cried about her mother's death, about when her father first began hitting her. Now she was crying because Aoshi was leaving. Misao felt bad for ditching Okon and Omasu, but knew they'd understand her reasons.
She couldn't be sure exactly how long she was in the room for. It had been over an hour before she came out the first time. She had been watching to make sure no one was around when she snuck out and grabbed something to drink and a few tissues.
When she went back in, for the second time, Misao firmly decided that Aoshi was gone by then, and that she should get up and go out there. For some reason, her legs wouldn't move and her arms stayed locked around her knees. She couldn't go out there yet, couldn't face that place knowing he was no longer in the shadows. It felt stupid to think about, but just the fact that he was there, even when he thought she didn't know he was watching, it made her feel safe and protected. She had wanted to jealously guard those feelings, and selfishly basked in them for the time she had. Now she felt cold and alone and vulnerable once more.
That was when she heard the music start to play in the restaurant.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aoshi didn't have to wait long. Aiko came roaring into the parking lot in a rented car half an hour after Misao had disappeared. Aoshi didn't much care about anything after that. He simply loaded his things in the trunk of the car, go inside to say his goodbyes, and climb into the car. Aiko and Okina had a few words before she shouted something and huffed back to the car, slamming the door harder than she should have, and sped off. Aoshi watched her with neutral blue eyes.
"How was your stay?" she asked after a few minutes of silence. Aoshi had turned off the radio station when he got in--Brittany Spears was annoying him--and Aiko hated quiet. He doubted she really cared.
"It was good," he responded, looking out the window as the rest of the town whizzed by.
"I bet your glad to get out of this hell-hole and get back home, huh?" she pressed.
"Sure," he told her without tone.
"That town is beneath you and me, baby," she said casually. "We're city people. Two of a kind."
"I liked it there," Aoshi said more to himself than her. "I didn't have to work two jobs. I didn't have to dodge drug dealers. I got a chance to practice a lot."
"That's nice," she said absently. Aiko slammed on her gas pedal, flipping off a passing driver doing the speed limit and screaming out her window.
"I met a girl," he said rather ironically. That would get her attention. It was a running theme with Aiko that whenever Aoshi got angry with her lifestyle, for having to take care of her drunken or drug-induced state, she's tell him to go get laid. He never did because he was never tempted to.
"What?" Aiko said suddenly, swinging around to look at him.
Aoshi shrugged. "I met a girl."
"Oh," Aiko said with a little edge. "That's what this mood is about." She paused for a sigh, changing the directional to get on to the turnpike. "It's just as well. You don't want to get saddled with some girl this early in life, baby. You've got to have variety and live."
This made Aoshi's temper start. "Is that what you call it?" he said with steel in his voice. "You call what your living a life?"
"Watch it," she said with heat. "I don't like your tone."
"Then deal with it, Aiko." Aoshi turned to glare at her profile with venom. "I've dealt with your tone all my life, but I won't do it anymore."
"What are you talking about?" she said, turning to glare at him.
"I won't pay for you to live anymore," he said simply. "I'm not going to work all the time so that I can have a roof over our heads and food in our kitchen while you screw a new guy and stick all your money in your arm! I won't go back to that life."
"This is Okina's doing!" she yelled, pulling over to the side of the road so she could yell at him properly. "That crazy old bastard's poisoned you against me!"
"He never had to poison me!" Aoshi challenged. "You did that fine on your own." Aiko's hand flew up, ready to connect with his face, but Aoshi caught it easily. Her eyes widened a fraction as his grip tightened on her wrist. "Don't get scared, Mother," he said calmly, releasing her with a disgusted look. "I'm not one of your boyfriends. I'm your son."
"What's that mean?" she scoffed.
"It means that I wouldn't hurt you, no matter how much I want to. I'd never sink so low as to hurt a woman."
"Seems I raised you good enough in that light."
Aoshi scoffed now. "You didn't raise me at all. You're still raising yourself." She opened her mouth, about to protest when he overrode her. "Dammit Mom, would you shut up for two seconds?!" Aiko was not used to him shouting at her like this. Aoshi was usually reserved and distant. Her mouth clamped shut in an instant. "I'm your son, do you understand that? I am not your caretaker, or your husband, or your friend. I won't pay for you to kill yourself. I won't watch you do it anymore either. I'll be eighteen in two weeks, so the way I see it, you can either take me back to the Aoyia now, or I'll get there myself in fourteen days!"
"Aoshi!" Aiko gasped. It was only rare when she used his name, and he knew she was very upset. It was long past due that he have this talk with her, and nothing in all of creation could have stopped him from this.
"For once in your life, do something for me, would you?" he asked her, pleading now. "Please?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Yes, it was music, she was sure of it. From the sounds of it, someone was playing there right now. But no one played music in the Aoyia. Okina didn't even have a radio! It sounded…like a guitar.
Misao shook her head, hard. This was just some kind of daydream, a fantasy spawned from a broken heart. He wasn't out there playing his guitar. He left to go back to the city, where he belonged. Aoshi was out of her life now, for good. That was until she heard the soft timbre of his voice reach her from outside once again.
"I'm not a perfect person, as many things I wish I didn't do. But I continue learning. I never meant to do those things to you. And so I have to say before I go, that I just want you to know."
"Oh God," Misao whispered brokenly. She had to be dreaming, that's it! She fell asleep in the store room and was dreaming this.
When she looked out of the glass window in the kitchen door, she knew that she wasn't dreaming. Aoshi was standing in front of the far wall of the Aoyia, his guitar perched on his lap as he sat on a stool. Soujiro was behind him, off to one side, providing backup and adjusting the volume on a small stereo.
"I've found a reason for me to change who I used to be. A reason to start over new and the reason is you."
Misao pushed the door open just enough so that she could slip out. All the people in the restaurant, including the staff, were on their feet to listen and see the performers. Misao walked among a few of the people, not trusting herself to make her presence known just yet.
"I'm sorry that I hurt you. It's something I must live with everyday. And all the pain I put you through, I wish that I could take it all away. And be the one who catches all your tears. That's why I need you to hear. I've found a reason for me to change who I used to be. A reason to start over new and the reason is You."
Aoshi looked up from his guitar every few seconds, scanning the surrounding faces for Misao. So far, he hadn't found her, but he knew that she'd come if he sang. He knew that the same way he knew that she'd entered the room, it was a simple gut reaction. He could feel her presence as easily as he could fell his own heart beat--which had picked up considerably in the past few seconds. It wasn't the playing in public that bothered him as much as the fact that this scheme might fail.
Soujiro, Misao's best friend, had been more than happy to help him out when Aoshi had rushed in the restaurant, winded and desperate. He wasn't such a bad guy, much different than Aoshi expected him to be. There had been brief conversations between the two guys when they had bumped into each other while visiting Misao in the hospital, and when they were at school. He could see why Soujiro and Misao were so close, but Soujiro fervently pledged his relationship with Misao strictly platonic. That's why his assistance in this little romantic stunt was key.
" I'm not a perfect person. I never meant to do those things to you and so I have to say before I go, that I just want you to know."
That's when he spotted her. Glassy green eyes watched him from a little distance. He looked scared, and hurt, and hopeful. It was the hope in her gaze that made his pulse leap. It made him more confidant. His gaze stayed locked with hers as he finished out the song.
Misao couldn't have ripped her eyes away even if she wanted to. The depth of his blue gaze was too compelling, to pleading. He was begging her to listen, silently wishing she'd hear him out. Hear the words as truth and know what he was trying to say. The flow of his voice and the melody of his guitar seemed to pierce her, flow through her, be meant only for her. Misao felt her eyes fill and overflow without really caring. There was a squeeze in her chest that was as painful as it was welcome. The desperate part of her heart, the one that always tried to hold back for fear of pain too great to stand, it was being caught up in the song. It was being lost to Aoshi with the rest of her heart.
"I've found a reason for me to change who I used to be. A reason to start over new and the reason is you. I've found a reason to show, a side of me you didn't know. A reason for all that I do, and the reason is you."
When the last note began to die away, the people listening began to applaud and cheer. Neither Aoshi or Misao noticed. She could hold back no longer and pushed through the people blocking her, racing toward him. Aoshi took the guitar strap from over his head and handed the instrument to Soujiro, who took it with a knowing smile. Then Misao was there and she was caught in that warm embrace she had never thought to feel again.
"I love you," Aoshi said into her ear, low enough so that only she could hear it over the cheers of the Aoyia. And that was the greatest moment in Misao Makimachi's life. At least until he said it again.
A/N: I would go on and say how Misao got into art school or Aoshi majored in music in college or something. But I think an epilogue's real purpose is to round off the story itself. Now, if I tie up all loose ends totally, I'll have nothing to go on if I decide to do a sequel. Anyway, a final round of thanks to all my readers--even those who never reviewed!
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