Second to the last chapter. I'm already on vacation, yay! I haven't been
visible because I've been making and uploading websites, and I have been
thinking how to really fix this chapter. Here are the links:
(for a new, cerebral and angsty anime
called Texhnolyze from the people who made Serial Experiments Lain) and
(for my half of the Crouching
Tiger Realm).
I hope you like the appearance of one of the characters I haven't used in a while.
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"Are we FINALLY there yet?" Misao muttered, as she looked out from the deck.
"Yes, we're finally here."
She pouted. "And you used to do this several times in a year?!"
He nodded. "It's quite enjoyable to travel, once you're used to it."
"I never realized Paris could be this far away..........."
They had finally reached the city of dreams. It was her first trip out of Japan, and her first real view of Europe. All she had seen before then were from imported pictures and stories. So far, the real thing wasn't so bad. But she truly did not expect Europe to be THIS far! Her legs were sweating inside the folds of her petticoat. Her head was getting scratchy under the bonnet. Yet she could not complain. She had been ecstatic when he said he was giving her a tour of Europe. She remembered, she teased him for being such a big spender, for always liking the high life she abhorred. He merely smirked.
As they stepped off the ship, a Japanese servant greeted them warmly. The man, wearing usual Parisian attire, bowed to Misao with a smile. "Madame. Welcome to France."
"Arigatou," she bowed as well. "I was afraid only my husband would speak my language here."
Her husband. Despite all the preparation, all the adventures that happened, and all the traveling, it was still hard to get used to the notion. For the longest time, she had hoped the husband would be Shinomori Aoshi. She still did not know how it happened to be this way. She was now the wife of someone else. Not that she did not like being married to this man. Still, it was strange.
He looked down at her worried face. "You don't like it? Do you want to go home and rest?"
"Home?"
"A rather small place, but it's where I stay whenever I'm here. Yoji maintains it the rest of the time." He looked at her again. Her face had not changed. "Something wrong?"
She shook her head. "I miss everybody back home. Especially.........especially.........."
"I understand." He took up her hand and patted it. "Yoji, get the carriage. We'd better get home first."
Yoji bowed and complied.
She knew the real reason why he wanted to get away from Japan. The Shanghai underworld was rattled to its foundations. A major weapons exchange link to America was ruined by the former White Tiger. There will be hell to pay.
Also, all of Kyoto was still buzzing about the marriage of the handsome businessman and the girl the whole city helped raise. The city had known for months that it was coming; the couple had not exactly kept their relationship a secret from anybody. The most horrible of rumors were spreading like wildfire among people who were supposed to be Misao's townsfolk. Misao had been taken advantage of; Misao was pregnant; Misao just wanted to be a rich girl after all. Otherwise, Shiroyuki Shinichi was just one of those flashy rich men who would, when he grew tired of the Kyoto girl, abandon her with a child and move on to another. Word had also spilled onto the streets that Shiroyuki used to be a criminal and a murderer. Worse, tongues wagged in speculation about what the Oniwabanshuu okashira did to Misao, for her to reject him. Had he abused her, hurt her, maligned her?
Only their friends at the Aioya knew and believed the truth. Thus, in the Aioya, surrounded only by close friends and the nearest business associates, a small but lavish wedding was conducted. A very traditional wedding it was, officiated by the head priest of the temple where Tomoe's diary was kept. No expense was spared, in that the best food was laid out for the few that were there, and the best wedding attire enveloped the petite young woman being wed. Nonetheless, the wedding was not extravagant.
And two days after the wedding, they were boarding a ship.
Enishi found it hard to believe, but Misao was quiet for most of the trip, especially on the trains. She was acting like a true ninja, assessing the new terrain with eyes and ears wide open, mouth silent. Every so often the young woman tugged at his sleeve and asked what this and that was. Being satisfied with an answer, she would be silent again.
The windows of the British Orient Express presented a lot for Misao to see. With each new country under the Crown came a new environment, new plants and animals, and new people. Enishi had seen this all before, and was not affected. But to Misao, it was all new and exciting.
And somewhat overwhelming.
This was especially because Misao knew only Japanese. She had managed to pick up stray French and English words from Enishi, but she still could not understand either language, and could not read it at all. Many times the well-traveled businessman tried to explain and translate the words, and most times it was sufficient. But once in a while she would interrupt him with an embarrassed grin, and say, "Never mind, 'Nishi."
"Where are the chopsticks, Enishi?" she asked at their first dinner in Paris. "I can understand it on the trains and on the ship, but this is a house. Have mercy."
"Sorry," he smirked. "When in Rome, do as the Romans do."
Misao frowned. "I don't know if I can do this any longer."
Enishi called for Yoji, and told him to serve dinner, as Misao sulked. Enishi tossed his head at her. "You can't always have your way. It's even worse here in the world of the white man. They have no real respect for Asians. You have to gain it out of them. Remember that. This is not Kyoto, and you're no master here."
"I know. How well do I know," she whispered. In all the stops she had seen the snobbish looks on both men and women, most especially on the Caucasians.
"But we're all tired, so I won't force it tonight." He tossed her a small lengthwise lacquer box.
Misao opened it and took out her traveling chopsticks, as Yoji laid miso, green tea, rice, and sukiyaki on the table.
Over the next few days Enishi toured her around Paris. They visited the Louvre, the Bastille, and the other famous places. He took her to the area where boutiques could be found, and helped her pick out a few new dresses.
But in Paris as in Kyoto, Misao cared most for the woods just outside the city. Her husband, a man of the city, did not fully understand what she appreciated in the woods, but was happy that she was happy.
"But they don't have cherry trees here, do they, 'Nishi?" she once asked.
He shook his head. "Cherry trees of a different type. There are no sakura here."
She smiled weakly. "That's alright."
And so it was, for the next few weeks. They also traveled to the towns and provinces just outside the capital. She loved the sights and sounds of France. It had a homey feeling to it, a feeling that almost everyone was a friend to everyone else. Much like, back home.
It was alright, whenever she saw something new and something intriguing. But when evening came, and she was alone, her mind would travel back to her home many miles away. Alone, as she stared at the moon, she would weep.
But she did not let him see her sad. She did not want him to regret that he brought her to Paris. She was just homesick, that's all! It was nobody else's problem.
She thought thus, as she brought in the tea for Enishi and an associate of his, who came to the house for a visit.
"Look, Yukishiro, I am quite aware of your delicate situation staying in Japan," his associate said. "What is stopping you from controlling your business from here? Trans-pacific and transatlantic communication is improving every year. You can just go back to Kyoto once a year, just to make sure everything is fine. But you can stay here."
Enishi thought about it. He was not abject to staying in Paris; the weather was much like the weather in Japan most of the year. With his height and build, not to mention his silver hair, mingling in the city was rather easy. And the man was right. Nobody knew about his past here. Japanese acquaintances knew him as a businessman, and nothing else. If the triads chose to hunt him down, all of Europe was a large place to hide in.
"Of course, you would keep your lovely wife here, for her safety," the man continued. "She is quite intelligent; she will not have much trouble mastering French............"
But he turned his eyes to the door, and saw Misao standing with a tray. Her face was pale and blank. "We're...........we're...........staying here?" she mumbled.
Then she blushed and hastily brought the tray to the table and served the men. She bowed to the associate. "Sorry about that. I was just..........thinking..............you know." She then gave a forced smile. "Of course, whatever Enishi thinks is best, I'm all for that." She took up the tray, bowed, and exited quickly.
She needed to get out, and talk to the trees and the birds. Any specie of flora or fauna would do, just as long as she did, the way she talked to the birds and the trees back home. Back home. The nearest source of flora and fauna was the city park, so she walked there, her usual Japanese sandals on her feet. She figured it would not matter, under such long and uncomfortable clothes. She found a bench to sit on, and began to quietly weep.
A little sparrow soon found company with her, and perched on the backrest of the bench. "I know you probably don't understand Japanese, but I'm glad you're here," Misao told the bird. "Ever felt alone in this big fancy city, little bird? Ever feel that you don't belong here? Ever wanted to go home, to your real home?"
"Why don't you talk to a human being, instead, jo-chan?" a male voice asked from above her, in Japanese. "At least I can understand what you're saying. Nipponia, Banzai!"
She looked up, and saw a muscular young man, also with black hair, sticking out high over his head. He was quite tall, and had a carefree grin on his face. Despite the workman's clothes the young man wore, the personality and the attitude were quite familiar with her.
"Sano? Sagara Sanosuke?!"
"Hey, it's the weasel!" He gave her a bear hug. "I didn't know you in those pretty clothes!" He allowed her to sweatdrop, then asked. "How did you get here?"
"I came with the white-haired baka," she grinned.
"Whoa! The white-hair's being nice! That's a mean treat he's giving you!"
"Hai. He says Americans call it a 'honeymoon'. A treat...........for a newly-married couple."
"I see."
It took a while to sink in. But when it did, he went ballistic. "YOU are MARRIED to YUKISHIRO ENISHI?!"
"Hai."
"How in the world did THAT happen?!"
"Long story." She then took him by the hand and tugged him to sit on the bench. "I have time on my hands, and I think, so do you. Shall I give you the story?"
"I wanna know how he BRAINWASHED you to marrying him!" he eagerly. "Spill!"
And spill she did, about everything. How they met, how they were engaged, and the problems regaining his memory. She even told him about their trip. He told her story upon story of his adventures around the world as well. He was currently a porter at one of the cheaper hotels, managed to pick up the most essential of French, and got by daily. He had been in Paris for over a month, and had found comrades both among whites and among fellow Japanese. What he did not earn by carrying hauls, he won in street fights.
It helped Misao a lot to find someone she knew from back home, someone who was not her husband. Now she was sure that all had not been a dream. Someone from back home knew who she was, and talked to her about who she was.
"Oi, ever felt lonely while you were traveling around?" Misao asked him finally, walking back from the park to the Champs Elysee.
"Sure, plenty of times!" he answered. "Tell ya a secret, little weasel."
She smiled and nodded.
"Tae's sukiyaki. Nothing like it in all the world. Someday I'm going back to it."
She laughed. "I don't get it."
"Don't sulk that your friends aren't here. Just tell yourself that you're coming back to them someday, especially to that Aoshi-sama of yours.............speaking of which, what happened to Aoshi?"
"But I just told you! I'm here with Eni------"
And speaking of Enishi, the snowhaired man was walking also on the Champs Elysee, toward them.
"Sacre bleuí, where have you been, Madame?" He spoke with an irritated tone. However, his shoes and his leather cap were rather dusty. "I have been looking for you!"
"So it IS true!" Sanosuke exclaimed. "You ARE here with the white- haired freak!"
"Sano!" Misao reproved.
He grabbed Enishi by the collar and raised him inches off the ground. "I don't know what your insane mind did to Misao, but I swear on the captain's head I WILL undo it. Now TALK! What did you do to Aoshi? How did you kill that ice block?"
The noise he raised stopped pedestrian traffic across the Champs Elysee, and sent several policemen to the scene. Soon the three were surrounded by scandalized Frenchmen and uniformed officers.
"Put me down and let me handle this," Enishi ordered with much calm. Sanosuke dropped him unceremoniously, and watched him brush his coat. He then listened as the white haired man conversed with the gendarmes in French. He raised both eyebrows as the gendarmes tipped their hats to Enishi and went on their way.
"What did you tell them?" Sanosuke asked.
"That you were insane," Enishi smirked.
Sanosuke darted for his collar again, but Enishi raised his finger and pointed to the departing gendarmes with a smile. Sanosuke stopped and grumbled.
"Shinomori was very alive when we left Tokyo. It is by Misao's choice that she is my wife. Even if you don't believe me, that's the truth. Are we clear?" He then motioned to Misao, and with her, began to walk away from him.
Sanosuke folded his arms, but nodded. "Hey, tell me something, Enishi. Why?"
Enishi looked back. "Why, what?"
Sanosuke shrugged. "I dunno. Kenshin, Kaoru, even Kenji, and Misao. Come on, we're common folk. I'm just an ordinary loafer giving the wide world a stroll. What did you ever see in us poor guys?"
Enishi thought it over. He thought about all of them. Himura, Kamiya, Kenji, Myoujin, Seta, Shinomori. Misao. Something about all of them drew him to them. It was something Himura had in those people that surrounded him. It was something in Himura himself.
He recalled the time, roughly a year ago. He had recovered enough from the attack that he could walk around, but did not remember anything. He could only remember one thing, one name. The name that consumed his being for so long it was more a part of him than his own name.
Nonetheless, Himura showed him understanding and respect. Even when he began to remember things again, even when he finally recalled everything about the man. He had the most reason to kill him, but he did not. Instead, he treated him well. And so did his friends.
It was the same with Misao. She gave him a chance to prove himself, regardless of his past. She opened her heart to him when he did not deserve it. She accepted him without question.
It was definitely something they all had, that drew him to them.
"Love." He answered slowly, as he cocked back his purple glasses. "That is what I saw in your little group. Unselfish, unwavering love." He gave Sanosuke a final glance. "I have contacts in Paris, Marseilles, and London if you need them. Au revoir."
"Hey, white hair!" Sanosuke called out. "Take good care of that weasel, alright? And give my regards to everyone back home!"
"I'll tell them you're still a freeloader," he replied.
Misao waved back at Sanosuke. "I had a great time! Come visit us while we're here!"
"I'll come by for dinner!" Sanosuke called back.
"I was right. You ARE still a freeloader!" Enishi returned with a smirk.
"You'll pay for that remark!" the rooster-head retorted, but waved back and walked away.
On the way back to the house, Misao was very quiet. She was still quiet when they got home. She immediately went to the bedroom. She took off the frock. She put on her black uniform and braided her hair the usual way. It was as the usual Oniwabanshuu ninja that Enishi, still in his Western clothes, found her.
"Why...............what is the meaning of this?"
"I packed it," she grinned. "Don't worry, I'll stay here, but if I didn't wear this I just might go insane. At least, I can be me, wearing this. I'll be the Misao you got to know. Right?"
"But, 'Sao...........I........."
"I'm never your Misao when I wear those itchy petticoats and uncomfortable shoes and annoying bonnets. I'm just a foreign girl, trying to fit in where I don't. And.................and..................I don't want to do that all my life.....................Enishi."
"But, Misao..........."
"And I don't think you want to play as a white man for any length of time, either," she continued. "You want to be your own man, too. Not this man who speaks French but is not a Frenchman, forced to kowtow to Frenchmen and Americans and............and.........Englishmen, yes, that's what they're called."
She looked well at Enishi, and found that he was quite floored. His mouth stayed open in mid-statement. She suddenly wanted to take back everything she said. "Sorry, my dear. France is nice and all. Paris is really beautiful. I'm glad you brought me here, really and truly. But........but............"
"But you couldn't bring yourself to stay here and leave everybody back home for good," he completed.
"Yeah, something like that."
"Pesky little weasel," he smiled. He tossed a small piece of paper to her.
She tried to read it, but it was all in Roman letters, so she shook her head.
"Telegraph from Japan, from Saitou," he explained. "My previous organization has been taken down for good. We can go home."
Misao's eyes lit up, but then she remembered. "But what about.....your associate......?"
"Oh, that," he brushed it off. "I have been seeing you look odd the last few days. And you did tell me more than once that you've missed the people back home. So after you left the house today and met Sagara, I made other arrangements. With Wu permanently out of the way, I can work from the base of operations. My friend can manage imports from here. There are many ways to ensure that nothing goes wrong with the imports."
She did not know what to say. So she hugged him instead.
"You're..............welcome," he answered.
She released him to clap her hands and beam at him. "So, when do we start buying souvenirs?"
If it was possible for Yukishiro Enishi to sweatdrop, it just happened.
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Thank you for waiting for this chapter. Shucks, such a long chapter! Hope you liked it. Um, I do realize most of you were expecting descriptions of a wedding. But because I am absolutely clueless about Japanese weddings, I didn't want to dare write something I don't know about. So it turned out this way.
JML – Yeah, I got your points, but now it's too late to change uncle Yahiko into a big brother. ^^
Maeko-Nohara – As for Eni-chan saying Misao 3 times, that's why I made Misao say that, there's something dreadfully wrong with the guy. ^_^ Thanks again!
Cat H – I mean, I've been to circuses. I guess when they're big, tigers are impossible to train, you're right. But they are not hopeless cases.
Scorpion05 – oh, he does! Thanks for reviewing!
Sabbie – Oh, poor you. That's OK, take your time. Life hasn't been good for either of our fanfiction. Hope you do well in school!
Jbramx2 – Like your pics, especially the poster-like thing for WTJC. ^^ Thanks for all the support. I'll try to find that fic you mentioned, and will read it. As for Misao, she's like that, emotions don't last long with her, unless she's really affected.
I hope you like the appearance of one of the characters I haven't used in a while.
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"Are we FINALLY there yet?" Misao muttered, as she looked out from the deck.
"Yes, we're finally here."
She pouted. "And you used to do this several times in a year?!"
He nodded. "It's quite enjoyable to travel, once you're used to it."
"I never realized Paris could be this far away..........."
They had finally reached the city of dreams. It was her first trip out of Japan, and her first real view of Europe. All she had seen before then were from imported pictures and stories. So far, the real thing wasn't so bad. But she truly did not expect Europe to be THIS far! Her legs were sweating inside the folds of her petticoat. Her head was getting scratchy under the bonnet. Yet she could not complain. She had been ecstatic when he said he was giving her a tour of Europe. She remembered, she teased him for being such a big spender, for always liking the high life she abhorred. He merely smirked.
As they stepped off the ship, a Japanese servant greeted them warmly. The man, wearing usual Parisian attire, bowed to Misao with a smile. "Madame. Welcome to France."
"Arigatou," she bowed as well. "I was afraid only my husband would speak my language here."
Her husband. Despite all the preparation, all the adventures that happened, and all the traveling, it was still hard to get used to the notion. For the longest time, she had hoped the husband would be Shinomori Aoshi. She still did not know how it happened to be this way. She was now the wife of someone else. Not that she did not like being married to this man. Still, it was strange.
He looked down at her worried face. "You don't like it? Do you want to go home and rest?"
"Home?"
"A rather small place, but it's where I stay whenever I'm here. Yoji maintains it the rest of the time." He looked at her again. Her face had not changed. "Something wrong?"
She shook her head. "I miss everybody back home. Especially.........especially.........."
"I understand." He took up her hand and patted it. "Yoji, get the carriage. We'd better get home first."
Yoji bowed and complied.
She knew the real reason why he wanted to get away from Japan. The Shanghai underworld was rattled to its foundations. A major weapons exchange link to America was ruined by the former White Tiger. There will be hell to pay.
Also, all of Kyoto was still buzzing about the marriage of the handsome businessman and the girl the whole city helped raise. The city had known for months that it was coming; the couple had not exactly kept their relationship a secret from anybody. The most horrible of rumors were spreading like wildfire among people who were supposed to be Misao's townsfolk. Misao had been taken advantage of; Misao was pregnant; Misao just wanted to be a rich girl after all. Otherwise, Shiroyuki Shinichi was just one of those flashy rich men who would, when he grew tired of the Kyoto girl, abandon her with a child and move on to another. Word had also spilled onto the streets that Shiroyuki used to be a criminal and a murderer. Worse, tongues wagged in speculation about what the Oniwabanshuu okashira did to Misao, for her to reject him. Had he abused her, hurt her, maligned her?
Only their friends at the Aioya knew and believed the truth. Thus, in the Aioya, surrounded only by close friends and the nearest business associates, a small but lavish wedding was conducted. A very traditional wedding it was, officiated by the head priest of the temple where Tomoe's diary was kept. No expense was spared, in that the best food was laid out for the few that were there, and the best wedding attire enveloped the petite young woman being wed. Nonetheless, the wedding was not extravagant.
And two days after the wedding, they were boarding a ship.
Enishi found it hard to believe, but Misao was quiet for most of the trip, especially on the trains. She was acting like a true ninja, assessing the new terrain with eyes and ears wide open, mouth silent. Every so often the young woman tugged at his sleeve and asked what this and that was. Being satisfied with an answer, she would be silent again.
The windows of the British Orient Express presented a lot for Misao to see. With each new country under the Crown came a new environment, new plants and animals, and new people. Enishi had seen this all before, and was not affected. But to Misao, it was all new and exciting.
And somewhat overwhelming.
This was especially because Misao knew only Japanese. She had managed to pick up stray French and English words from Enishi, but she still could not understand either language, and could not read it at all. Many times the well-traveled businessman tried to explain and translate the words, and most times it was sufficient. But once in a while she would interrupt him with an embarrassed grin, and say, "Never mind, 'Nishi."
"Where are the chopsticks, Enishi?" she asked at their first dinner in Paris. "I can understand it on the trains and on the ship, but this is a house. Have mercy."
"Sorry," he smirked. "When in Rome, do as the Romans do."
Misao frowned. "I don't know if I can do this any longer."
Enishi called for Yoji, and told him to serve dinner, as Misao sulked. Enishi tossed his head at her. "You can't always have your way. It's even worse here in the world of the white man. They have no real respect for Asians. You have to gain it out of them. Remember that. This is not Kyoto, and you're no master here."
"I know. How well do I know," she whispered. In all the stops she had seen the snobbish looks on both men and women, most especially on the Caucasians.
"But we're all tired, so I won't force it tonight." He tossed her a small lengthwise lacquer box.
Misao opened it and took out her traveling chopsticks, as Yoji laid miso, green tea, rice, and sukiyaki on the table.
Over the next few days Enishi toured her around Paris. They visited the Louvre, the Bastille, and the other famous places. He took her to the area where boutiques could be found, and helped her pick out a few new dresses.
But in Paris as in Kyoto, Misao cared most for the woods just outside the city. Her husband, a man of the city, did not fully understand what she appreciated in the woods, but was happy that she was happy.
"But they don't have cherry trees here, do they, 'Nishi?" she once asked.
He shook his head. "Cherry trees of a different type. There are no sakura here."
She smiled weakly. "That's alright."
And so it was, for the next few weeks. They also traveled to the towns and provinces just outside the capital. She loved the sights and sounds of France. It had a homey feeling to it, a feeling that almost everyone was a friend to everyone else. Much like, back home.
It was alright, whenever she saw something new and something intriguing. But when evening came, and she was alone, her mind would travel back to her home many miles away. Alone, as she stared at the moon, she would weep.
But she did not let him see her sad. She did not want him to regret that he brought her to Paris. She was just homesick, that's all! It was nobody else's problem.
She thought thus, as she brought in the tea for Enishi and an associate of his, who came to the house for a visit.
"Look, Yukishiro, I am quite aware of your delicate situation staying in Japan," his associate said. "What is stopping you from controlling your business from here? Trans-pacific and transatlantic communication is improving every year. You can just go back to Kyoto once a year, just to make sure everything is fine. But you can stay here."
Enishi thought about it. He was not abject to staying in Paris; the weather was much like the weather in Japan most of the year. With his height and build, not to mention his silver hair, mingling in the city was rather easy. And the man was right. Nobody knew about his past here. Japanese acquaintances knew him as a businessman, and nothing else. If the triads chose to hunt him down, all of Europe was a large place to hide in.
"Of course, you would keep your lovely wife here, for her safety," the man continued. "She is quite intelligent; she will not have much trouble mastering French............"
But he turned his eyes to the door, and saw Misao standing with a tray. Her face was pale and blank. "We're...........we're...........staying here?" she mumbled.
Then she blushed and hastily brought the tray to the table and served the men. She bowed to the associate. "Sorry about that. I was just..........thinking..............you know." She then gave a forced smile. "Of course, whatever Enishi thinks is best, I'm all for that." She took up the tray, bowed, and exited quickly.
She needed to get out, and talk to the trees and the birds. Any specie of flora or fauna would do, just as long as she did, the way she talked to the birds and the trees back home. Back home. The nearest source of flora and fauna was the city park, so she walked there, her usual Japanese sandals on her feet. She figured it would not matter, under such long and uncomfortable clothes. She found a bench to sit on, and began to quietly weep.
A little sparrow soon found company with her, and perched on the backrest of the bench. "I know you probably don't understand Japanese, but I'm glad you're here," Misao told the bird. "Ever felt alone in this big fancy city, little bird? Ever feel that you don't belong here? Ever wanted to go home, to your real home?"
"Why don't you talk to a human being, instead, jo-chan?" a male voice asked from above her, in Japanese. "At least I can understand what you're saying. Nipponia, Banzai!"
She looked up, and saw a muscular young man, also with black hair, sticking out high over his head. He was quite tall, and had a carefree grin on his face. Despite the workman's clothes the young man wore, the personality and the attitude were quite familiar with her.
"Sano? Sagara Sanosuke?!"
"Hey, it's the weasel!" He gave her a bear hug. "I didn't know you in those pretty clothes!" He allowed her to sweatdrop, then asked. "How did you get here?"
"I came with the white-haired baka," she grinned.
"Whoa! The white-hair's being nice! That's a mean treat he's giving you!"
"Hai. He says Americans call it a 'honeymoon'. A treat...........for a newly-married couple."
"I see."
It took a while to sink in. But when it did, he went ballistic. "YOU are MARRIED to YUKISHIRO ENISHI?!"
"Hai."
"How in the world did THAT happen?!"
"Long story." She then took him by the hand and tugged him to sit on the bench. "I have time on my hands, and I think, so do you. Shall I give you the story?"
"I wanna know how he BRAINWASHED you to marrying him!" he eagerly. "Spill!"
And spill she did, about everything. How they met, how they were engaged, and the problems regaining his memory. She even told him about their trip. He told her story upon story of his adventures around the world as well. He was currently a porter at one of the cheaper hotels, managed to pick up the most essential of French, and got by daily. He had been in Paris for over a month, and had found comrades both among whites and among fellow Japanese. What he did not earn by carrying hauls, he won in street fights.
It helped Misao a lot to find someone she knew from back home, someone who was not her husband. Now she was sure that all had not been a dream. Someone from back home knew who she was, and talked to her about who she was.
"Oi, ever felt lonely while you were traveling around?" Misao asked him finally, walking back from the park to the Champs Elysee.
"Sure, plenty of times!" he answered. "Tell ya a secret, little weasel."
She smiled and nodded.
"Tae's sukiyaki. Nothing like it in all the world. Someday I'm going back to it."
She laughed. "I don't get it."
"Don't sulk that your friends aren't here. Just tell yourself that you're coming back to them someday, especially to that Aoshi-sama of yours.............speaking of which, what happened to Aoshi?"
"But I just told you! I'm here with Eni------"
And speaking of Enishi, the snowhaired man was walking also on the Champs Elysee, toward them.
"Sacre bleuí, where have you been, Madame?" He spoke with an irritated tone. However, his shoes and his leather cap were rather dusty. "I have been looking for you!"
"So it IS true!" Sanosuke exclaimed. "You ARE here with the white- haired freak!"
"Sano!" Misao reproved.
He grabbed Enishi by the collar and raised him inches off the ground. "I don't know what your insane mind did to Misao, but I swear on the captain's head I WILL undo it. Now TALK! What did you do to Aoshi? How did you kill that ice block?"
The noise he raised stopped pedestrian traffic across the Champs Elysee, and sent several policemen to the scene. Soon the three were surrounded by scandalized Frenchmen and uniformed officers.
"Put me down and let me handle this," Enishi ordered with much calm. Sanosuke dropped him unceremoniously, and watched him brush his coat. He then listened as the white haired man conversed with the gendarmes in French. He raised both eyebrows as the gendarmes tipped their hats to Enishi and went on their way.
"What did you tell them?" Sanosuke asked.
"That you were insane," Enishi smirked.
Sanosuke darted for his collar again, but Enishi raised his finger and pointed to the departing gendarmes with a smile. Sanosuke stopped and grumbled.
"Shinomori was very alive when we left Tokyo. It is by Misao's choice that she is my wife. Even if you don't believe me, that's the truth. Are we clear?" He then motioned to Misao, and with her, began to walk away from him.
Sanosuke folded his arms, but nodded. "Hey, tell me something, Enishi. Why?"
Enishi looked back. "Why, what?"
Sanosuke shrugged. "I dunno. Kenshin, Kaoru, even Kenji, and Misao. Come on, we're common folk. I'm just an ordinary loafer giving the wide world a stroll. What did you ever see in us poor guys?"
Enishi thought it over. He thought about all of them. Himura, Kamiya, Kenji, Myoujin, Seta, Shinomori. Misao. Something about all of them drew him to them. It was something Himura had in those people that surrounded him. It was something in Himura himself.
He recalled the time, roughly a year ago. He had recovered enough from the attack that he could walk around, but did not remember anything. He could only remember one thing, one name. The name that consumed his being for so long it was more a part of him than his own name.
Nonetheless, Himura showed him understanding and respect. Even when he began to remember things again, even when he finally recalled everything about the man. He had the most reason to kill him, but he did not. Instead, he treated him well. And so did his friends.
It was the same with Misao. She gave him a chance to prove himself, regardless of his past. She opened her heart to him when he did not deserve it. She accepted him without question.
It was definitely something they all had, that drew him to them.
"Love." He answered slowly, as he cocked back his purple glasses. "That is what I saw in your little group. Unselfish, unwavering love." He gave Sanosuke a final glance. "I have contacts in Paris, Marseilles, and London if you need them. Au revoir."
"Hey, white hair!" Sanosuke called out. "Take good care of that weasel, alright? And give my regards to everyone back home!"
"I'll tell them you're still a freeloader," he replied.
Misao waved back at Sanosuke. "I had a great time! Come visit us while we're here!"
"I'll come by for dinner!" Sanosuke called back.
"I was right. You ARE still a freeloader!" Enishi returned with a smirk.
"You'll pay for that remark!" the rooster-head retorted, but waved back and walked away.
On the way back to the house, Misao was very quiet. She was still quiet when they got home. She immediately went to the bedroom. She took off the frock. She put on her black uniform and braided her hair the usual way. It was as the usual Oniwabanshuu ninja that Enishi, still in his Western clothes, found her.
"Why...............what is the meaning of this?"
"I packed it," she grinned. "Don't worry, I'll stay here, but if I didn't wear this I just might go insane. At least, I can be me, wearing this. I'll be the Misao you got to know. Right?"
"But, 'Sao...........I........."
"I'm never your Misao when I wear those itchy petticoats and uncomfortable shoes and annoying bonnets. I'm just a foreign girl, trying to fit in where I don't. And.................and..................I don't want to do that all my life.....................Enishi."
"But, Misao..........."
"And I don't think you want to play as a white man for any length of time, either," she continued. "You want to be your own man, too. Not this man who speaks French but is not a Frenchman, forced to kowtow to Frenchmen and Americans and............and.........Englishmen, yes, that's what they're called."
She looked well at Enishi, and found that he was quite floored. His mouth stayed open in mid-statement. She suddenly wanted to take back everything she said. "Sorry, my dear. France is nice and all. Paris is really beautiful. I'm glad you brought me here, really and truly. But........but............"
"But you couldn't bring yourself to stay here and leave everybody back home for good," he completed.
"Yeah, something like that."
"Pesky little weasel," he smiled. He tossed a small piece of paper to her.
She tried to read it, but it was all in Roman letters, so she shook her head.
"Telegraph from Japan, from Saitou," he explained. "My previous organization has been taken down for good. We can go home."
Misao's eyes lit up, but then she remembered. "But what about.....your associate......?"
"Oh, that," he brushed it off. "I have been seeing you look odd the last few days. And you did tell me more than once that you've missed the people back home. So after you left the house today and met Sagara, I made other arrangements. With Wu permanently out of the way, I can work from the base of operations. My friend can manage imports from here. There are many ways to ensure that nothing goes wrong with the imports."
She did not know what to say. So she hugged him instead.
"You're..............welcome," he answered.
She released him to clap her hands and beam at him. "So, when do we start buying souvenirs?"
If it was possible for Yukishiro Enishi to sweatdrop, it just happened.
.........................................
Thank you for waiting for this chapter. Shucks, such a long chapter! Hope you liked it. Um, I do realize most of you were expecting descriptions of a wedding. But because I am absolutely clueless about Japanese weddings, I didn't want to dare write something I don't know about. So it turned out this way.
JML – Yeah, I got your points, but now it's too late to change uncle Yahiko into a big brother. ^^
Maeko-Nohara – As for Eni-chan saying Misao 3 times, that's why I made Misao say that, there's something dreadfully wrong with the guy. ^_^ Thanks again!
Cat H – I mean, I've been to circuses. I guess when they're big, tigers are impossible to train, you're right. But they are not hopeless cases.
Scorpion05 – oh, he does! Thanks for reviewing!
Sabbie – Oh, poor you. That's OK, take your time. Life hasn't been good for either of our fanfiction. Hope you do well in school!
Jbramx2 – Like your pics, especially the poster-like thing for WTJC. ^^ Thanks for all the support. I'll try to find that fic you mentioned, and will read it. As for Misao, she's like that, emotions don't last long with her, unless she's really affected.