Chapter 5
Heavy breathing, a new life wails and cries, covered in blood as it is wrapped in cloth and unceremoniously dumped in the waiting father's arms. The midwife wipes her bloody hands on a piece or cloth, signalling for everyone to leave.
The young girl who lay back desperately clung to the girl by her bedside.
" Don't leave me alone with him…Kanako please."
Kanako blushed, leaning in close to wipe Misao's face and whispered her apology before gently loosening Misao's grip on her arm and walking out of the room.
The heavy wooden door close with an ominous thud, leaving the couple in the room with the newborn. Donashiro looked down, gently wiping the blood front the crying, squirming mass cradled in his arms. Peeking under the folds of the cloth, he checked the baby's gender. A baby boy.
He was in awe of the warmth of the baby, looking at his perfect little fingers. Delicately touching the newborn's nose, his smile disappeared as the baby stopped crying, opening his eyes to look at him.
" So its true then."
Donashiro looked up at Misao, now holding the baby stiffly in his arms. Misao looked up wearily at him, struggling to keep awake. She wanted so much to see the baby, her ally and her child.
" Please…let me see."
Donashiro stayed rooted on the floor, several metres away from her, out of her reach. He sighed softly, cooing for the baby before speaking in a soft voice.
" He has your hair colour you know."
He absently freed a hand and tousled his own light coloured hair as he looked down to inspect the dark hair on the newborn. No matter how endearing the child appeared, he couldn't bring himself to like it, much less love it as his child. Because it was not his own. His cheek muscles twitched as he clenched his teeth together.
" My child…please…"
Donashiro smiled sadly, walking to Misao's side, still holding the child to his chest.
" You're right. It is your child. It is however, not mine."
The smile disappeared, the look his eyes hardened once again. He looked hurt, guarded and furious. He held the baby boy out to his mother rather stiffly, his face no longer betraying any emotion.
Misao, despite feeling weak, quickly grabbed her child, rocking it in her arms. She too looked under the folds of the blanket to see what sex it was.
" A boy…a baby boy."
Misao smiled happily through her tears, trailing down her cheeks to wet the boy's forehead. She stared at his delicate face, his skin still red from the birth. She drew a sharp breath as the baby's eyes opened, familiar blue eyes staring up at her.
" His eyes…"
" Che. No doubt the brat is his child. No matter, he will become my tool. He will be named officially in a ceremony next month. I will be naming him, he will take on my family name. This disgrace is never to be spoken of again. Do you understand?"
Misao could not stop looking at the little boy cradled in her arms. Everything, his eyes, his facial features, his little fingers and toes, all captivated her.
" I asked you if you understood?"
Donashiro's skin took on a slight shade of red as he brought his hand across Misao's face in a loud whack. His hand stayed on her reddening cheek, caressing the inflamed skin. Cupping her chin gently to turn her head to face his, a complete opposite to the violence he had shown, he spoke again.
" Understand?"
" …Hai."
Roughly, Donashiro grabbed the baby from her embrace, pushing her back down as her flailing arms reached for the little bundle again. Taking a few steps back, with the baby awkwardly held in one arm, he looked at her, still trying to get up and reach out.
" Let this serve as a reminder that this child is not yours. It may have your blood, but I ultimately hold its fate. Be obedient."
Misao gripped the sheets beneath her, telling herself that she would see him again soon, that it was only a temporary separation. Donashiro's taut face softened into a small smile.
" You know I love you right?"
Misao could not return those words. She simply watched tearfully as Donashiro waited for a reply. Realizing he would get none, he strode out of the room as the child in his arms began to cry for the warmth of his mother.
Small, dainty hands pull back the heavy velvet drapes to reveal the dark night sky, filled with bright stars.
" Like this?"
The moon was not providing much light that night. A new month saw the moon become nothing more than a sliver of light, not enough to keep the stars from their prominence.
" That's perfect. Thank you Kanako."
Kanako turned from the window, smiling at the new mother settled in an odd wooden chair. It was a new contraption, she had never seen it before.
" Ne, Misao. Where did you get that chair from?"
Misao made soft lyrical noises as she rocked back and forth, holding her baby boy safe in her arms. When she was satisfied, she freed an arm to pull the blanket around him closer. The only reason why she was able to keep her baby by her side for so long was because Donashiro had gone on a business trip. The past 2 weeks had been painful, as she had only gotten to see her child when it time for feeding. She savored the time now, when she could be alone with him with no interruptions.
" A present from the foreigners."
Kanako raised her eyebrows, laughing a little.
" Those foreigners think of the oddest things. Imagine that. A rocking chair?"
" It is good to help the baby sleep."
" So has a name been decided yet?"
Misao paused at Kanako's question. A name for her child. Donashiro was to name him in officially in 2 weeks time. But to her, he was Nenji. In memory of her Jiya, a person whose death had been her responsibility.
" Misao?"
" Oh…Gomen. He will be named at a ceremony in 2 weeks."
" That's good. I guess I'll go take a break."
Kanako always did know when she wasn't wanted. She knew well when Misao wanted to be alone. She had no objections. In exchange, she would get long breaks as she was the one who was supposed to look after and look over Misao all day. Placing a dinner tray by Misao's side which contained both meals, she silently left, making sure no one saw her.
Misao brushed her limp, oily hair out of her eyes, as well as to keep Nenji from playing with it in a painful way. At the slight movement, he began to cry again, waking from his peaceful sleep. She whispered soft soothing words to calm him down.
" It's ok…I'm here."
Nenji continued to cry, his skin reddening as his fingers clenched at Misao's loose hair. Despite the tears and the wailing, Misao didn't mind. She loved him. To her he was perfect.
" Okaa-san will always be here for you. I'll never leave you…no one will ever take you away from me. You won't leave me will you?"
Misao took a particularly loud sob as her answer. Smiling, she began to rock back and forth to calm him down.
" Ne, Nenji. Even though you'll never see your otou-san, kaa-san will always take care of-"
Suddenly, a loud thud interrupted her. Whirling around, her eyes widened, her hands nearly dropping Nenji with surprise.
" Ao…Aoshi-sama."
The man stood behind her chair, his eyes open wide in shock. A large bag lying on the floor beside him explained the loud thud.
" Oh…I didn't hear you come in."
Misao chided herself in her mind at her stupid sentence.
" Baka! Of course you didn't hear him. He's a ninja. That's the point…oh no! What did I say?"
Misao turned back around to face the stars again, her heart racing as she thought about why Aoshi was so shocked.
" What did you just say?"
" Eh? Oh. I didn't hear you come in." Misao stammered.
" No. What you said to…the child."
" Iie. It was nothing. What are you doing here?"
Misao rose from her chair, cursing at how weak her body was. Aoshi stooped to pick up the bag from the floor and held it out to Misao.
" Presents. From the Oniwabanshuu."
Holding the baby so he could rest on her shoulder, she took the proffered bag and knelt down, using one hand to place it onto the floor, open, and riffle through it.
Aoshi watched Misao search through the bag, smiling in delight at the items she found inside. Despite her happy demeanor, he could tell that this wasn't much more than a ghost of Misao's former self. The Misao he knew would have been squealing, jumping around. The Misao he saw before her was firmly rooted to the ground, not only because of maturity but also because she looked so tired and weak from her ordeals.
When Misao looked up at him, she looked genuinely glad to see him, unlike last time when she looked like she wanted him to go as soon as possible. She looked different, her health having deteriorated further since he last saw her. Despite her happy exterior, he could still see that she was acting.
He didn't want to see her like this. He wanted to take her far from this place which had caused her so much pain.
It wasn't his right. But if it wasn't his, whose was it?
" Come home."
Misao got up from the floor, using the nearby chair as support as she stood shakily.
" What?"
" You're unhappy."
Misao shook her head, her face muscles stretching and pulling into her usual smile.
" No, I'm very happy here!"
" Don't lie. We taught you better than that."
Aoshi wished he could take back his words when he saw Misao's hurt reaction. He didn't want it to come out like that. Silently, he cursed himself for his inability to communicate the way he wanted to in these situations. He tried again.
" Everyone misses you…I miss you."
Shock. Again. This time, a happy shock. It wasn't often that Aoshi referred to himself like that. Even more surprising was what he was saying. Those words…he had never said those words to her before.
Shifting Nenji from nuzzling her neck, she lifted him slightly, offering him to Aoshi.
" Would you like to hold him?"
" …a boy?"
" You didn't know? Ninja skills getting a little rusty there?"
Misao held the baby close to her for a second, getting ready to place him in the older man's arms.
" Nenji…meet your real tou-san."
She whispered softly, making sure Aoshi would not hear her, or at least not hear her clearly. It made no difference as Misao noticed the way Aoshi's mouth thinned. He always did that when he was thinking. Moving close to Aoshi, she corrected his hand position before placing the child into his arms.
Aoshi stared down at the baby. His heart constricted painfully as he held the living proof that Misao did not belong to him. She had already had another man's child. He really didn't want to look at him at all.
Misao's eyes misted with happiness as she saw the father and son together. Despite the awkwardness, it was interaction nonetheless and she was grateful for that.
" Even if you didn't love me…I could still exact my revenge on the one you love most. On both Shinomori and his child."
Shuddering at the memory of Donashiro's words, she continued to observe. She was happy, content that Aoshi cared for her. Happy that their true family would be together, even if it was for such a short time. He would never visit them again, if she could help it. Stepping forward, she took the baby back, cuddling him and stepping away from Aoshi, his arms still locked in the same position, as if he still held the child.
" I'm really very happy here."
It killed her to have to say this, to lie outright when she screamed out her unhappiness on the inside, unable to voice them for one simple fact. Fear.
" I have a son to look after now…tell the others not to worry about me anymore. Oh…and Ao…Shinomori-san. Please don't visit me anymore."
Aoshi flinched at the cool way she addressed him.
" Why"
" Because…I…you…You left me! You have no right to come visit. I hate you!"
Aoshi took a step towards her, reaching out to touch her but Misao's hand slapped his away quickly.
" Don't come near me…don't touch me. Please leave."
Shocked, Aoshi's kodachi fell to the floor with a loud clatter. It hurt so much to say these words.
No. The words themselves were not what hurt. It was seeing her beloved's reaction to them. She wanted so much to just reach out, to reassure him, to say she was lying. But she couldn't. It was for his own good. It was for her family's own good, back at the Aoiya.
Before they could say anything more, the silence was interrupted by the sound of clapping.
" Well well. You know its bad for any warrior to drop their weapons Shinomori. Now pick them up like a good little boy."
Appearing from the shadows came Donashiro, with a wide evil smirk on his face as he observed the scene before him.
" …you said you'd be at-"
" Well it IS lucky that I came back early after all isn't it my dear wife."
Misao quickly trailed off, not wanting to make the atmosphere tenser than it was already.
" Its convenient that I didn't have to go find you Shinomori, as I have some business to discuss with you."
Aoshi looked venomously at Donashiro as he walked towards them. Instinctively, he kicked his kodochi into the air, grabbing them with one hand to stand in front of Misao to protect her.
" Now why would you have to protect my own wife and her child from me? It's ridiculous."
For all the reasoning in Aoshi's mind, what Donashiro said was true. But his instincts told him otherwise, his heart told him otherwise.
" State your business."
" Ah, so I see the okashira of the Oniwabanshuu lives up to his reputation. Always information first. Have it your way. Don't mess with my wife Shinomori. I am well aware of your last visit. Nice touch…spilt water to cover you tracks. But you forget that we're a ninja clan here. Don't underestimate us. It is an insult to have someone sneak into our headquarters."
Aoshi remained silent, knowing that Donashiro would continue talking. Donashiro gave him a wry smile before continuing.
" Now back to business. The child my wife holds in her arms will be the next okashira of the Oniwabanshuu. He will succeed you."
Aoshi let out a soft sarcastic laugh, not relinquishing his defensive position.
" Doesn't work that way. I am the okashira now. My bloodline will continue the legacy of the Oniwabanshuu. My descendents or whoever I see fit. And I don't believe you will make a good okashira. That is your real plan isn't it Donashiro?"
Donashiro let out a loud maddened laugh, glaring at Aoshi.
" You have no clue do you Shinomori? Not that you're wrong about my plan. You just have no idea who this child is."
Donashiro brushed past Aoshi, taking the child forcefully from the mother's arms. Misao struggled, knowing what her husband wanted to do.
" No. Give him back! Donashiro please!!"
Donashiro ignored her cries and moved to stand in front of Aoshi again.
" So much for your reputation as the most observant. Take a good look Shinomori, and tell me what you see."
Misao rushed to him, tugging on Donashiro's arm, pleading for him to stop.
" Stop! He doesn't need to know. I love… only you…the child is loyal to you…not him!"
Misao's words echoed in his mind as he slowly took the baby from Donashiro. With his kodochi tucked under one arm, he looked down at the crying child in his arms. Calming down, the baby stopped crying, his eyes opening to look around him. For the first time in his life, he found that his own blue eyes stared into mirrors. The same pair of eyes stared right back at him.
A revelation. Something that shocked Aoshi to his very core, despite his having suspicions from the beginning.
Donashiro pushed Misao away, her weak body hitting the floor with a painful thud, before speaking in a cold patronizing tone.
" So do you understand now Shinomori? I control the life of the unconditional heir of the leadership of the Oniwabanshuu. Therefore I am effectively the leader, whether you like it or not."
Confusion spiralled in Aoshi's mind. He looked up from the identical blue eyes to search in Misao's, wanting to know if that man had spoken the truth. Kneeling on the floor, Misao bit her lip, her shoulders slumped with defeat, refusing to look at Aoshi.
" …its true. He's your child…I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I just…didn't want you to die."
Donashiro laughed, addressing Aoshi again, this time with a normal happy voice. As he did so, he took the baby from Aoshi, passing it as if it was nothing back to the baby's mother.
" You know, normally I'd be pretty annoyed that my wife had another man's child. You must wonder why I'm taking this all so well."
Aoshi glanced at Donashiro, wondering if he had lost his mind.
" You think I've lost it haven't you? I'll tell you now. I'm perfectly sane." Donashiro said in a deep even voice. " Yes, the slut did have another man's child. But this is an exception, something entirely acceptable to me. Because that man was you."
Aoshi gripped his kodachi, glaring spitefully at Donashiro as he spoke. He could feel the blood rushing through his body faster and faster, the killer instinct coming back to him.
" So you see Shinomori. I own you. Maybe not directly, but through your child…and the woman you love. I control you. You are nothing but a puppet in my dancing on my stage…just to take that place as okashira until this little one has grown large enough to replace you."
" You bastard….I'll kill you."
" You'll kill me? Now now Shinomori, lets not get too ahead of ourselves here. Don't forget to whom I had the pleasure of marrying."
" She is…your prisoner, not your wife."
Donashiro smirked giving Misao a quick once over before turning back to Aoshi.
" You're wrong. She said she'd never leave me and would love me forever. Isn't that right Mi-chan?"
Misao looked up from the wooden floor to find both men staring at her, one with a self assured smirk and another with pleading eyes.
" Gomen ne Aoshi…I don't want anything to happen to you. This is the best way."
" …hai."
Maybe it had always been true. Just maybe. The moment that single word escaped her mouth, he regretted it. He hadn't really wanted to know. The answer could have given him eternal happiness or turn him into a fool. Maybe it was always meant to be this way. Fate had dealt him a cruel hand in this life. Maybe they were just never meant to be.
But Shinomori Aoshi had never been a man who followed his fate, his destiny. He preferred to make his own path. Staring at Misao, smiling sweetly at him, it made him feel hollow inside. All those times, it hadn't meant anything. She had never loved him, never in all those 17 years of her life. Her words, her actions had all meant nothing. Donashiro was right. He was just a puppet, to be pulled along by Misao's sweet smiles.
The hollow, empty feeling faded. His body filled with a searing hot hatred for the man in front of him, who had wrecked his chances, even though deep down, he knew that he himself had let Misao slip through his fingers. His hand twitched, gripping his long kodachi, eager to embed the long sharp metal into warm flesh. To see blood sprayed all over the wall, to feel the hot slippery liquid between his finger tips. Shinomori Aoshi was out for blood. Donashiro's blood.
He was only vaguely aware of his body moving forward, his left arm moving his kodachi in a large horizontal swing. As Donashiro moved quickly to the side to duck, he dropped his sheath, using his right hand to bring the short sword down in a vertical slash, the tip of the cool blade tagging the skin to create a large gash down Donashiro's front. Straightening from his crouched finishing position, he lifted the short blade to his mouth, licking the drops of blood which had stained the metal. His blue eyes were maddening as he stared at Donashiro who was inspecting his wound. The tangy taste on his palate served to excite him further, his fingers itched to spill more blood.
Soft muffled cries penetrated his consciousness, bringing him out of his madness. He glanced down at Misao, sitting on the floor next to the chair, the now quiet baby in her arms. Tears ran down her pale cheeks. Her gaze pleaded for him to stop, it almost seemed that she cared for him.
But, Misao didn't love him. It was time to say goodbye to those memories. To those feelings he had always harboured deep inside. He would let them go, they would fade away and drain the rest of the brightness and colour from his bleak world.
His posture slumped slightly, his kodachi slightly lowered from their defensive position, something Donashiro took advantage of. Sword drawn, Donashiro rushed towards him with a fast and furious right swing. Aoshi moved quickly to avoid the swing, jumping out of the way. However, his opponent seemed to have anticipated his move, using the back of his sword to knock into Aoshi's wrist, making him lose his grip on his long kodachi. Taking advantage of Aoshi's momentary shock, Donashiro used his kempo, driving both his fists into Aoshi's mid section before finishing off his combination with a small round house kick. Aoshi collapsed, kneeling on the floor and breathing heavily as he had his wind knocked out of him. His mind screamed for answers as to why his fighting skills had gone down so much. What was wrong with him? He had never lost in a fight so badly.
Donashiro sneered at him, kicking Aoshi's lost weapon to pick it up without bending down and relinquishing eye contact.
" What's wrong Shinomori? Can't fight anymore can you?"
Throwing his own sword down onto the floor, Donashiro advanced, admiring Aoshi's. Pulling several kunai from his sleeves. He threw them at Aoshi, aiming for all his vital points. Aoshi moved just in time to avoid most of them, gasping softly in pain as several still managed to embed themselves in his shoulder and right leg.
" You don't live up to your reputation Shinomori. You disappoint me."
Advancing, he raised Aoshi's sword high, bringing it behind his back to help gather more force behind the deadly blow he was about to perform.
" Death by your own sword. Such a fitting end to such an insignificant life. No more fighting spirit Shinomori?" Donashiro taunted, sneering down at Aoshi, who had meanwhile pulled out the kunai from his flesh. " Could it be because you have no one to protect?"
Donashiro smiled supremely, heaving the sword from over his head, meaning to bring it crashing down on Aoshi, to slice him in half. He stared, bewildered at Aoshi's horrified blue eyes as he found the sword had been caught on something. His blood froze in his veins as a soft gasp of pain echoed in his ears.
He looked behind him, his eyes filling with tears as he saw his own sword drop to the floor with a clatter. It dripped with blood, his own blood he realised as pain began to hit him. He stared at the woman before him, her hand still frozen in the position, which had gripped his sword. He ignored the stabbing pain as he felt Aoshi drive a kunai into his mid section. Still, he could not take his eyes off his beloved, with blood on her hands. His blood, and her blood too. His large sword swing had caught her, caught her in the act of betraying him. Despite this, his heart still ached for her as the blood poured from the long wound down the middle of her chest. Breathing in little rasps, Donashiro collapsed on the floor, in a pool on his own blood, still staring at Misao. When he realised she was staring back, he used the last of his strength, feeling a tear roll down the side of his face, mixing in with his blood.
" Gomen ne…Misao…I never meant for it to be like this."
Misao fell forward, losing her balance and slumped near Donashiro, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. His dead coffee brown eyes stared at her. She knew, deep down that he really did love her. Slowly, her hand shakily close his eyes for him.
" Misao…"
Misao looked up, wincing in pain as Aoshi appeared beside her, pulling her towards him. She could hear Nenji crying for her, the baby's cries breaking her heart as she knew she would have no strength to hold him again.
Aoshi pulled her up into his arms, gently prying Misao's bloody hand from her wound to inspect it. He ignored the warm blood soaking into his pants as he brushed the hair from Misao's tired face. Her blue eyes looked up at him.
" …Take care of Nenji for me."
Aoshi's eyes filled with tears, something which he had not done since he was a young boy. Misao's hand raised shakily to wipe the tears from his face.
" Don't cry…" Misao grimacing in pain. " It's ok…I'm…I'm just sorry it had to end this way…"
" It doesn't have to end…I love you."
Misao smiled, her face lightening up and her eyes regaining some of their spark. She looked up at him dreamily, memorizing his face, his dark blue eyes.
" You know…this was just like my dreams. I always dreamed that you would come and rescue me and say you would love me after it all."
Aoshi stared down at her, shaking her as her eyes slowly closed.
" Misao…Misao wake up?"
" Shh…I'm ok…go on. Leave now."
Aoshi shook his head, looking scared. Her heart clenched as she saw the fear in his eyes.
" I'll be ok. You'll see. Someone will be in here soon…Leave."
Misao used all the strength she could muster to push him away. Reluctantly, he laid her gently on the floor, grabbing his kodachi and disappeared into the shadows. All alone with only Nenji to fill the silence, Misao lay flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She was dimly aware of all the blood that had poured from her body, no matter how much pressure she placed on the wound.
Yes, it was like her dream. Aoshi had come to rescue her, to confess his love for her. She smiled, feeling tired. Her eye lids became heavier and her breathing slowed.
" I always dreamed he'd come for me…say he'd love me."
Slowly losing consciousness, she tried hard to keep awake.
" My dreams…I never guess that this was how it would end…I'm sorry it had to end this way…Aoshi."
Closing her eyes, darkness enveloped her, the last thing that floated in her consciousness was the sounds of doors opening and loud screams.
Darkness. The reflection of moonlight on calm waters.
A tall figure stole into the room, dropping his weapons with a clatter, shoving his bloody hands in the water. He watched pensively as the water turned red. Lifting his hands out of the water, he marvelled at how easy they had become clean again.
All the events of that night, the evidence; the blood could be so easily disposed. He closed his eyes tightly, wanting to shut out the images of the blood…so much blood. His hands gripped the large wooden bucket, tipping the whole contents over his head.
Breathing heavily, he threw the bucket into the corner, making it crash heavily against the wall and splinter.
Why had it happened that way?
This wasn't the end.
It couldn't be the end.
But the emptiness inside told him otherwise. He sat onto the floor, back against the table leg looking down at the dirt floor. He stared down at his hands, the hands which had been covered in her blood, the hands that held her just a little while ago. Clenching and unclenching his fingers, he studied his calloused hands. The blood was undoubtedly gone.
And despite his hope, his mind knew that Misao would be gone too.
Time. He had lost all sense of it as he sat there numbly. Even though the pain was there, he could no longer feel it. He couldn't think, he couldn't move…he couldn't feel anything but numbness.
" Aoshi-san!! Where are you!?"
Someone was calling his name. A female voice. But if it wasn't HERS he didn't really give a damn.
" Aoshi-san! Its terrible!"
He already knew the horrible news. No one needed to tell him again, no one needed to tell him about the horrible event. Never again. He stared listlessly down at his right hand, wanting to close his eyes, to rest and forget, but couldn't. Instead his eyes burned painfully, seeing over and over the same pain.
" Here you are! Aoshi-san, it's Misao-chan! There's been an accident."
An accident. Yes all an accident, a dream and illusion. Anything but cold hard reality. Absently, he identified the person to be urgently tugging his sleeve to be Okon.
" You've got to come quickly! The doctor says that she might die!"
Aoshi felt like laughing. She might die…no. Okon would always cling to whatever hope she could. But Aoshi knew better, he knew that hope never changed anything. It did nothing but comfort the human soul. He wanted that comfort, no. He needed it. But Aoshi already knew too much, that despite all the hope in the world, there had been too much blood shed that night.
" Hayaku! The Seiibanshuu were attacked…Kaede is already dead. Misao…may lose her life too. Come-"
" What the hell do you expect me to do about it?!"
Aoshi savagely pushed Okon away from him. Landing hard on her backside, Okon stared at Aoshi in disbelief. Never had she seen her okashira have such impatience and shown such behaviour.
" What can I do…she's dying. I can't do anything."
He muttered so softly that even Okon, with her ninja training, could barely hear him. Okon got up and sat in a kneeling position before Aoshi, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder.
" Yes you can…just go to Misao. She'll…stay alive. She's a fighter."
Aoshi once again pushed Okon away, this time gently taking her hand off his shoulder.
" Go to Misao…what good would that do. Don't you understand? I'm powerless…powerless to save her."
" But your presence alone would help Misao."
" Don't you understand? Nothing will help her now. Not now…not ever."
Okon drew a hand across Aoshi's face with a loud resounding slap. She stared at him, breathing hard to contain the anger within her.
" You're the one who doesn't understand. If you've already given up hope on her…then fine. Don't come."
Okon stood up, leaving Aoshi in the room. The door slid close with a loud whack as wood hit wood. The red mark on his face lingered as he sat there silently. He could hear Okon's angry voice as she walked down the hallway.
Was what she said true?
Aoshi had never really been one to believe in hope. Rather, he liked to depend on himself to get things done. Hope was only necessary as a last resort to people. He never liked to use last resorts.
The door slid open again, this time Omasu timidly sticking her head in. Her face was wet with tears but was filled with steely determination.
" Aoshi-san. If you want to come, I'll leave the address. Please do…I'm sure…Misao would appreciate it. Even after all that's happened between you two…please."
Letting a sheet of paper fall onto the floor, she left. Aoshi stared at the paper lying to the left of him. Undoubtedly, the ink was still wet, the moisture shining in the sun now rising outside. The writing was messy, obviously written in haste. He bent forward, picking the paper up between his index and middle finger.
He wanted to see her…but he couldn't bring himself to see her. The agony of indecision pained him. If he hadn't gone on that trip, if he had seen through Donashiro's plan, Misao would not have ended up with her life endangered. Glancing at the sheet of paper he held by his finger tips, he wondered how he could possibly face her after being the cause of the whole mess. He wrapped the rest of his fingers around the paper, scrunching it up in his hand. The paper became a ball with a satisfying crunch before he threw it at the wall halfheartedly. It bounced off, rolling near his side once more, sitting there enticingly.
Staring, he thought that perhaps seeing her wouldn't hurt. But his body refused to move.
Author's note : Wow I must have been watching too many soap operas when I read this.
This is a chapter I dug out while cleaning out my fic folder…I wouldn't expect the end any time soon rolls eyes So melodramatic!
Heavy breathing, a new life wails and cries, covered in blood as it is wrapped in cloth and unceremoniously dumped in the waiting father's arms. The midwife wipes her bloody hands on a piece or cloth, signalling for everyone to leave.
The young girl who lay back desperately clung to the girl by her bedside.
" Don't leave me alone with him…Kanako please."
Kanako blushed, leaning in close to wipe Misao's face and whispered her apology before gently loosening Misao's grip on her arm and walking out of the room.
The heavy wooden door close with an ominous thud, leaving the couple in the room with the newborn. Donashiro looked down, gently wiping the blood front the crying, squirming mass cradled in his arms. Peeking under the folds of the cloth, he checked the baby's gender. A baby boy.
He was in awe of the warmth of the baby, looking at his perfect little fingers. Delicately touching the newborn's nose, his smile disappeared as the baby stopped crying, opening his eyes to look at him.
" So its true then."
Donashiro looked up at Misao, now holding the baby stiffly in his arms. Misao looked up wearily at him, struggling to keep awake. She wanted so much to see the baby, her ally and her child.
" Please…let me see."
Donashiro stayed rooted on the floor, several metres away from her, out of her reach. He sighed softly, cooing for the baby before speaking in a soft voice.
" He has your hair colour you know."
He absently freed a hand and tousled his own light coloured hair as he looked down to inspect the dark hair on the newborn. No matter how endearing the child appeared, he couldn't bring himself to like it, much less love it as his child. Because it was not his own. His cheek muscles twitched as he clenched his teeth together.
" My child…please…"
Donashiro smiled sadly, walking to Misao's side, still holding the child to his chest.
" You're right. It is your child. It is however, not mine."
The smile disappeared, the look his eyes hardened once again. He looked hurt, guarded and furious. He held the baby boy out to his mother rather stiffly, his face no longer betraying any emotion.
Misao, despite feeling weak, quickly grabbed her child, rocking it in her arms. She too looked under the folds of the blanket to see what sex it was.
" A boy…a baby boy."
Misao smiled happily through her tears, trailing down her cheeks to wet the boy's forehead. She stared at his delicate face, his skin still red from the birth. She drew a sharp breath as the baby's eyes opened, familiar blue eyes staring up at her.
" His eyes…"
" Che. No doubt the brat is his child. No matter, he will become my tool. He will be named officially in a ceremony next month. I will be naming him, he will take on my family name. This disgrace is never to be spoken of again. Do you understand?"
Misao could not stop looking at the little boy cradled in her arms. Everything, his eyes, his facial features, his little fingers and toes, all captivated her.
" I asked you if you understood?"
Donashiro's skin took on a slight shade of red as he brought his hand across Misao's face in a loud whack. His hand stayed on her reddening cheek, caressing the inflamed skin. Cupping her chin gently to turn her head to face his, a complete opposite to the violence he had shown, he spoke again.
" Understand?"
" …Hai."
Roughly, Donashiro grabbed the baby from her embrace, pushing her back down as her flailing arms reached for the little bundle again. Taking a few steps back, with the baby awkwardly held in one arm, he looked at her, still trying to get up and reach out.
" Let this serve as a reminder that this child is not yours. It may have your blood, but I ultimately hold its fate. Be obedient."
Misao gripped the sheets beneath her, telling herself that she would see him again soon, that it was only a temporary separation. Donashiro's taut face softened into a small smile.
" You know I love you right?"
Misao could not return those words. She simply watched tearfully as Donashiro waited for a reply. Realizing he would get none, he strode out of the room as the child in his arms began to cry for the warmth of his mother.
Small, dainty hands pull back the heavy velvet drapes to reveal the dark night sky, filled with bright stars.
" Like this?"
The moon was not providing much light that night. A new month saw the moon become nothing more than a sliver of light, not enough to keep the stars from their prominence.
" That's perfect. Thank you Kanako."
Kanako turned from the window, smiling at the new mother settled in an odd wooden chair. It was a new contraption, she had never seen it before.
" Ne, Misao. Where did you get that chair from?"
Misao made soft lyrical noises as she rocked back and forth, holding her baby boy safe in her arms. When she was satisfied, she freed an arm to pull the blanket around him closer. The only reason why she was able to keep her baby by her side for so long was because Donashiro had gone on a business trip. The past 2 weeks had been painful, as she had only gotten to see her child when it time for feeding. She savored the time now, when she could be alone with him with no interruptions.
" A present from the foreigners."
Kanako raised her eyebrows, laughing a little.
" Those foreigners think of the oddest things. Imagine that. A rocking chair?"
" It is good to help the baby sleep."
" So has a name been decided yet?"
Misao paused at Kanako's question. A name for her child. Donashiro was to name him in officially in 2 weeks time. But to her, he was Nenji. In memory of her Jiya, a person whose death had been her responsibility.
" Misao?"
" Oh…Gomen. He will be named at a ceremony in 2 weeks."
" That's good. I guess I'll go take a break."
Kanako always did know when she wasn't wanted. She knew well when Misao wanted to be alone. She had no objections. In exchange, she would get long breaks as she was the one who was supposed to look after and look over Misao all day. Placing a dinner tray by Misao's side which contained both meals, she silently left, making sure no one saw her.
Misao brushed her limp, oily hair out of her eyes, as well as to keep Nenji from playing with it in a painful way. At the slight movement, he began to cry again, waking from his peaceful sleep. She whispered soft soothing words to calm him down.
" It's ok…I'm here."
Nenji continued to cry, his skin reddening as his fingers clenched at Misao's loose hair. Despite the tears and the wailing, Misao didn't mind. She loved him. To her he was perfect.
" Okaa-san will always be here for you. I'll never leave you…no one will ever take you away from me. You won't leave me will you?"
Misao took a particularly loud sob as her answer. Smiling, she began to rock back and forth to calm him down.
" Ne, Nenji. Even though you'll never see your otou-san, kaa-san will always take care of-"
Suddenly, a loud thud interrupted her. Whirling around, her eyes widened, her hands nearly dropping Nenji with surprise.
" Ao…Aoshi-sama."
The man stood behind her chair, his eyes open wide in shock. A large bag lying on the floor beside him explained the loud thud.
" Oh…I didn't hear you come in."
Misao chided herself in her mind at her stupid sentence.
" Baka! Of course you didn't hear him. He's a ninja. That's the point…oh no! What did I say?"
Misao turned back around to face the stars again, her heart racing as she thought about why Aoshi was so shocked.
" What did you just say?"
" Eh? Oh. I didn't hear you come in." Misao stammered.
" No. What you said to…the child."
" Iie. It was nothing. What are you doing here?"
Misao rose from her chair, cursing at how weak her body was. Aoshi stooped to pick up the bag from the floor and held it out to Misao.
" Presents. From the Oniwabanshuu."
Holding the baby so he could rest on her shoulder, she took the proffered bag and knelt down, using one hand to place it onto the floor, open, and riffle through it.
Aoshi watched Misao search through the bag, smiling in delight at the items she found inside. Despite her happy demeanor, he could tell that this wasn't much more than a ghost of Misao's former self. The Misao he knew would have been squealing, jumping around. The Misao he saw before her was firmly rooted to the ground, not only because of maturity but also because she looked so tired and weak from her ordeals.
When Misao looked up at him, she looked genuinely glad to see him, unlike last time when she looked like she wanted him to go as soon as possible. She looked different, her health having deteriorated further since he last saw her. Despite her happy exterior, he could still see that she was acting.
He didn't want to see her like this. He wanted to take her far from this place which had caused her so much pain.
It wasn't his right. But if it wasn't his, whose was it?
" Come home."
Misao got up from the floor, using the nearby chair as support as she stood shakily.
" What?"
" You're unhappy."
Misao shook her head, her face muscles stretching and pulling into her usual smile.
" No, I'm very happy here!"
" Don't lie. We taught you better than that."
Aoshi wished he could take back his words when he saw Misao's hurt reaction. He didn't want it to come out like that. Silently, he cursed himself for his inability to communicate the way he wanted to in these situations. He tried again.
" Everyone misses you…I miss you."
Shock. Again. This time, a happy shock. It wasn't often that Aoshi referred to himself like that. Even more surprising was what he was saying. Those words…he had never said those words to her before.
Shifting Nenji from nuzzling her neck, she lifted him slightly, offering him to Aoshi.
" Would you like to hold him?"
" …a boy?"
" You didn't know? Ninja skills getting a little rusty there?"
Misao held the baby close to her for a second, getting ready to place him in the older man's arms.
" Nenji…meet your real tou-san."
She whispered softly, making sure Aoshi would not hear her, or at least not hear her clearly. It made no difference as Misao noticed the way Aoshi's mouth thinned. He always did that when he was thinking. Moving close to Aoshi, she corrected his hand position before placing the child into his arms.
Aoshi stared down at the baby. His heart constricted painfully as he held the living proof that Misao did not belong to him. She had already had another man's child. He really didn't want to look at him at all.
Misao's eyes misted with happiness as she saw the father and son together. Despite the awkwardness, it was interaction nonetheless and she was grateful for that.
" Even if you didn't love me…I could still exact my revenge on the one you love most. On both Shinomori and his child."
Shuddering at the memory of Donashiro's words, she continued to observe. She was happy, content that Aoshi cared for her. Happy that their true family would be together, even if it was for such a short time. He would never visit them again, if she could help it. Stepping forward, she took the baby back, cuddling him and stepping away from Aoshi, his arms still locked in the same position, as if he still held the child.
" I'm really very happy here."
It killed her to have to say this, to lie outright when she screamed out her unhappiness on the inside, unable to voice them for one simple fact. Fear.
" I have a son to look after now…tell the others not to worry about me anymore. Oh…and Ao…Shinomori-san. Please don't visit me anymore."
Aoshi flinched at the cool way she addressed him.
" Why"
" Because…I…you…You left me! You have no right to come visit. I hate you!"
Aoshi took a step towards her, reaching out to touch her but Misao's hand slapped his away quickly.
" Don't come near me…don't touch me. Please leave."
Shocked, Aoshi's kodachi fell to the floor with a loud clatter. It hurt so much to say these words.
No. The words themselves were not what hurt. It was seeing her beloved's reaction to them. She wanted so much to just reach out, to reassure him, to say she was lying. But she couldn't. It was for his own good. It was for her family's own good, back at the Aoiya.
Before they could say anything more, the silence was interrupted by the sound of clapping.
" Well well. You know its bad for any warrior to drop their weapons Shinomori. Now pick them up like a good little boy."
Appearing from the shadows came Donashiro, with a wide evil smirk on his face as he observed the scene before him.
" …you said you'd be at-"
" Well it IS lucky that I came back early after all isn't it my dear wife."
Misao quickly trailed off, not wanting to make the atmosphere tenser than it was already.
" Its convenient that I didn't have to go find you Shinomori, as I have some business to discuss with you."
Aoshi looked venomously at Donashiro as he walked towards them. Instinctively, he kicked his kodochi into the air, grabbing them with one hand to stand in front of Misao to protect her.
" Now why would you have to protect my own wife and her child from me? It's ridiculous."
For all the reasoning in Aoshi's mind, what Donashiro said was true. But his instincts told him otherwise, his heart told him otherwise.
" State your business."
" Ah, so I see the okashira of the Oniwabanshuu lives up to his reputation. Always information first. Have it your way. Don't mess with my wife Shinomori. I am well aware of your last visit. Nice touch…spilt water to cover you tracks. But you forget that we're a ninja clan here. Don't underestimate us. It is an insult to have someone sneak into our headquarters."
Aoshi remained silent, knowing that Donashiro would continue talking. Donashiro gave him a wry smile before continuing.
" Now back to business. The child my wife holds in her arms will be the next okashira of the Oniwabanshuu. He will succeed you."
Aoshi let out a soft sarcastic laugh, not relinquishing his defensive position.
" Doesn't work that way. I am the okashira now. My bloodline will continue the legacy of the Oniwabanshuu. My descendents or whoever I see fit. And I don't believe you will make a good okashira. That is your real plan isn't it Donashiro?"
Donashiro let out a loud maddened laugh, glaring at Aoshi.
" You have no clue do you Shinomori? Not that you're wrong about my plan. You just have no idea who this child is."
Donashiro brushed past Aoshi, taking the child forcefully from the mother's arms. Misao struggled, knowing what her husband wanted to do.
" No. Give him back! Donashiro please!!"
Donashiro ignored her cries and moved to stand in front of Aoshi again.
" So much for your reputation as the most observant. Take a good look Shinomori, and tell me what you see."
Misao rushed to him, tugging on Donashiro's arm, pleading for him to stop.
" Stop! He doesn't need to know. I love… only you…the child is loyal to you…not him!"
Misao's words echoed in his mind as he slowly took the baby from Donashiro. With his kodochi tucked under one arm, he looked down at the crying child in his arms. Calming down, the baby stopped crying, his eyes opening to look around him. For the first time in his life, he found that his own blue eyes stared into mirrors. The same pair of eyes stared right back at him.
A revelation. Something that shocked Aoshi to his very core, despite his having suspicions from the beginning.
Donashiro pushed Misao away, her weak body hitting the floor with a painful thud, before speaking in a cold patronizing tone.
" So do you understand now Shinomori? I control the life of the unconditional heir of the leadership of the Oniwabanshuu. Therefore I am effectively the leader, whether you like it or not."
Confusion spiralled in Aoshi's mind. He looked up from the identical blue eyes to search in Misao's, wanting to know if that man had spoken the truth. Kneeling on the floor, Misao bit her lip, her shoulders slumped with defeat, refusing to look at Aoshi.
" …its true. He's your child…I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I just…didn't want you to die."
Donashiro laughed, addressing Aoshi again, this time with a normal happy voice. As he did so, he took the baby from Aoshi, passing it as if it was nothing back to the baby's mother.
" You know, normally I'd be pretty annoyed that my wife had another man's child. You must wonder why I'm taking this all so well."
Aoshi glanced at Donashiro, wondering if he had lost his mind.
" You think I've lost it haven't you? I'll tell you now. I'm perfectly sane." Donashiro said in a deep even voice. " Yes, the slut did have another man's child. But this is an exception, something entirely acceptable to me. Because that man was you."
Aoshi gripped his kodachi, glaring spitefully at Donashiro as he spoke. He could feel the blood rushing through his body faster and faster, the killer instinct coming back to him.
" So you see Shinomori. I own you. Maybe not directly, but through your child…and the woman you love. I control you. You are nothing but a puppet in my dancing on my stage…just to take that place as okashira until this little one has grown large enough to replace you."
" You bastard….I'll kill you."
" You'll kill me? Now now Shinomori, lets not get too ahead of ourselves here. Don't forget to whom I had the pleasure of marrying."
" She is…your prisoner, not your wife."
Donashiro smirked giving Misao a quick once over before turning back to Aoshi.
" You're wrong. She said she'd never leave me and would love me forever. Isn't that right Mi-chan?"
Misao looked up from the wooden floor to find both men staring at her, one with a self assured smirk and another with pleading eyes.
" Gomen ne Aoshi…I don't want anything to happen to you. This is the best way."
" …hai."
Maybe it had always been true. Just maybe. The moment that single word escaped her mouth, he regretted it. He hadn't really wanted to know. The answer could have given him eternal happiness or turn him into a fool. Maybe it was always meant to be this way. Fate had dealt him a cruel hand in this life. Maybe they were just never meant to be.
But Shinomori Aoshi had never been a man who followed his fate, his destiny. He preferred to make his own path. Staring at Misao, smiling sweetly at him, it made him feel hollow inside. All those times, it hadn't meant anything. She had never loved him, never in all those 17 years of her life. Her words, her actions had all meant nothing. Donashiro was right. He was just a puppet, to be pulled along by Misao's sweet smiles.
The hollow, empty feeling faded. His body filled with a searing hot hatred for the man in front of him, who had wrecked his chances, even though deep down, he knew that he himself had let Misao slip through his fingers. His hand twitched, gripping his long kodachi, eager to embed the long sharp metal into warm flesh. To see blood sprayed all over the wall, to feel the hot slippery liquid between his finger tips. Shinomori Aoshi was out for blood. Donashiro's blood.
He was only vaguely aware of his body moving forward, his left arm moving his kodachi in a large horizontal swing. As Donashiro moved quickly to the side to duck, he dropped his sheath, using his right hand to bring the short sword down in a vertical slash, the tip of the cool blade tagging the skin to create a large gash down Donashiro's front. Straightening from his crouched finishing position, he lifted the short blade to his mouth, licking the drops of blood which had stained the metal. His blue eyes were maddening as he stared at Donashiro who was inspecting his wound. The tangy taste on his palate served to excite him further, his fingers itched to spill more blood.
Soft muffled cries penetrated his consciousness, bringing him out of his madness. He glanced down at Misao, sitting on the floor next to the chair, the now quiet baby in her arms. Tears ran down her pale cheeks. Her gaze pleaded for him to stop, it almost seemed that she cared for him.
But, Misao didn't love him. It was time to say goodbye to those memories. To those feelings he had always harboured deep inside. He would let them go, they would fade away and drain the rest of the brightness and colour from his bleak world.
His posture slumped slightly, his kodachi slightly lowered from their defensive position, something Donashiro took advantage of. Sword drawn, Donashiro rushed towards him with a fast and furious right swing. Aoshi moved quickly to avoid the swing, jumping out of the way. However, his opponent seemed to have anticipated his move, using the back of his sword to knock into Aoshi's wrist, making him lose his grip on his long kodachi. Taking advantage of Aoshi's momentary shock, Donashiro used his kempo, driving both his fists into Aoshi's mid section before finishing off his combination with a small round house kick. Aoshi collapsed, kneeling on the floor and breathing heavily as he had his wind knocked out of him. His mind screamed for answers as to why his fighting skills had gone down so much. What was wrong with him? He had never lost in a fight so badly.
Donashiro sneered at him, kicking Aoshi's lost weapon to pick it up without bending down and relinquishing eye contact.
" What's wrong Shinomori? Can't fight anymore can you?"
Throwing his own sword down onto the floor, Donashiro advanced, admiring Aoshi's. Pulling several kunai from his sleeves. He threw them at Aoshi, aiming for all his vital points. Aoshi moved just in time to avoid most of them, gasping softly in pain as several still managed to embed themselves in his shoulder and right leg.
" You don't live up to your reputation Shinomori. You disappoint me."
Advancing, he raised Aoshi's sword high, bringing it behind his back to help gather more force behind the deadly blow he was about to perform.
" Death by your own sword. Such a fitting end to such an insignificant life. No more fighting spirit Shinomori?" Donashiro taunted, sneering down at Aoshi, who had meanwhile pulled out the kunai from his flesh. " Could it be because you have no one to protect?"
Donashiro smiled supremely, heaving the sword from over his head, meaning to bring it crashing down on Aoshi, to slice him in half. He stared, bewildered at Aoshi's horrified blue eyes as he found the sword had been caught on something. His blood froze in his veins as a soft gasp of pain echoed in his ears.
He looked behind him, his eyes filling with tears as he saw his own sword drop to the floor with a clatter. It dripped with blood, his own blood he realised as pain began to hit him. He stared at the woman before him, her hand still frozen in the position, which had gripped his sword. He ignored the stabbing pain as he felt Aoshi drive a kunai into his mid section. Still, he could not take his eyes off his beloved, with blood on her hands. His blood, and her blood too. His large sword swing had caught her, caught her in the act of betraying him. Despite this, his heart still ached for her as the blood poured from the long wound down the middle of her chest. Breathing in little rasps, Donashiro collapsed on the floor, in a pool on his own blood, still staring at Misao. When he realised she was staring back, he used the last of his strength, feeling a tear roll down the side of his face, mixing in with his blood.
" Gomen ne…Misao…I never meant for it to be like this."
Misao fell forward, losing her balance and slumped near Donashiro, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. His dead coffee brown eyes stared at her. She knew, deep down that he really did love her. Slowly, her hand shakily close his eyes for him.
" Misao…"
Misao looked up, wincing in pain as Aoshi appeared beside her, pulling her towards him. She could hear Nenji crying for her, the baby's cries breaking her heart as she knew she would have no strength to hold him again.
Aoshi pulled her up into his arms, gently prying Misao's bloody hand from her wound to inspect it. He ignored the warm blood soaking into his pants as he brushed the hair from Misao's tired face. Her blue eyes looked up at him.
" …Take care of Nenji for me."
Aoshi's eyes filled with tears, something which he had not done since he was a young boy. Misao's hand raised shakily to wipe the tears from his face.
" Don't cry…" Misao grimacing in pain. " It's ok…I'm…I'm just sorry it had to end this way…"
" It doesn't have to end…I love you."
Misao smiled, her face lightening up and her eyes regaining some of their spark. She looked up at him dreamily, memorizing his face, his dark blue eyes.
" You know…this was just like my dreams. I always dreamed that you would come and rescue me and say you would love me after it all."
Aoshi stared down at her, shaking her as her eyes slowly closed.
" Misao…Misao wake up?"
" Shh…I'm ok…go on. Leave now."
Aoshi shook his head, looking scared. Her heart clenched as she saw the fear in his eyes.
" I'll be ok. You'll see. Someone will be in here soon…Leave."
Misao used all the strength she could muster to push him away. Reluctantly, he laid her gently on the floor, grabbing his kodachi and disappeared into the shadows. All alone with only Nenji to fill the silence, Misao lay flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She was dimly aware of all the blood that had poured from her body, no matter how much pressure she placed on the wound.
Yes, it was like her dream. Aoshi had come to rescue her, to confess his love for her. She smiled, feeling tired. Her eye lids became heavier and her breathing slowed.
" I always dreamed he'd come for me…say he'd love me."
Slowly losing consciousness, she tried hard to keep awake.
" My dreams…I never guess that this was how it would end…I'm sorry it had to end this way…Aoshi."
Closing her eyes, darkness enveloped her, the last thing that floated in her consciousness was the sounds of doors opening and loud screams.
Darkness. The reflection of moonlight on calm waters.
A tall figure stole into the room, dropping his weapons with a clatter, shoving his bloody hands in the water. He watched pensively as the water turned red. Lifting his hands out of the water, he marvelled at how easy they had become clean again.
All the events of that night, the evidence; the blood could be so easily disposed. He closed his eyes tightly, wanting to shut out the images of the blood…so much blood. His hands gripped the large wooden bucket, tipping the whole contents over his head.
Breathing heavily, he threw the bucket into the corner, making it crash heavily against the wall and splinter.
Why had it happened that way?
This wasn't the end.
It couldn't be the end.
But the emptiness inside told him otherwise. He sat onto the floor, back against the table leg looking down at the dirt floor. He stared down at his hands, the hands which had been covered in her blood, the hands that held her just a little while ago. Clenching and unclenching his fingers, he studied his calloused hands. The blood was undoubtedly gone.
And despite his hope, his mind knew that Misao would be gone too.
Time. He had lost all sense of it as he sat there numbly. Even though the pain was there, he could no longer feel it. He couldn't think, he couldn't move…he couldn't feel anything but numbness.
" Aoshi-san!! Where are you!?"
Someone was calling his name. A female voice. But if it wasn't HERS he didn't really give a damn.
" Aoshi-san! Its terrible!"
He already knew the horrible news. No one needed to tell him again, no one needed to tell him about the horrible event. Never again. He stared listlessly down at his right hand, wanting to close his eyes, to rest and forget, but couldn't. Instead his eyes burned painfully, seeing over and over the same pain.
" Here you are! Aoshi-san, it's Misao-chan! There's been an accident."
An accident. Yes all an accident, a dream and illusion. Anything but cold hard reality. Absently, he identified the person to be urgently tugging his sleeve to be Okon.
" You've got to come quickly! The doctor says that she might die!"
Aoshi felt like laughing. She might die…no. Okon would always cling to whatever hope she could. But Aoshi knew better, he knew that hope never changed anything. It did nothing but comfort the human soul. He wanted that comfort, no. He needed it. But Aoshi already knew too much, that despite all the hope in the world, there had been too much blood shed that night.
" Hayaku! The Seiibanshuu were attacked…Kaede is already dead. Misao…may lose her life too. Come-"
" What the hell do you expect me to do about it?!"
Aoshi savagely pushed Okon away from him. Landing hard on her backside, Okon stared at Aoshi in disbelief. Never had she seen her okashira have such impatience and shown such behaviour.
" What can I do…she's dying. I can't do anything."
He muttered so softly that even Okon, with her ninja training, could barely hear him. Okon got up and sat in a kneeling position before Aoshi, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder.
" Yes you can…just go to Misao. She'll…stay alive. She's a fighter."
Aoshi once again pushed Okon away, this time gently taking her hand off his shoulder.
" Go to Misao…what good would that do. Don't you understand? I'm powerless…powerless to save her."
" But your presence alone would help Misao."
" Don't you understand? Nothing will help her now. Not now…not ever."
Okon drew a hand across Aoshi's face with a loud resounding slap. She stared at him, breathing hard to contain the anger within her.
" You're the one who doesn't understand. If you've already given up hope on her…then fine. Don't come."
Okon stood up, leaving Aoshi in the room. The door slid close with a loud whack as wood hit wood. The red mark on his face lingered as he sat there silently. He could hear Okon's angry voice as she walked down the hallway.
Was what she said true?
Aoshi had never really been one to believe in hope. Rather, he liked to depend on himself to get things done. Hope was only necessary as a last resort to people. He never liked to use last resorts.
The door slid open again, this time Omasu timidly sticking her head in. Her face was wet with tears but was filled with steely determination.
" Aoshi-san. If you want to come, I'll leave the address. Please do…I'm sure…Misao would appreciate it. Even after all that's happened between you two…please."
Letting a sheet of paper fall onto the floor, she left. Aoshi stared at the paper lying to the left of him. Undoubtedly, the ink was still wet, the moisture shining in the sun now rising outside. The writing was messy, obviously written in haste. He bent forward, picking the paper up between his index and middle finger.
He wanted to see her…but he couldn't bring himself to see her. The agony of indecision pained him. If he hadn't gone on that trip, if he had seen through Donashiro's plan, Misao would not have ended up with her life endangered. Glancing at the sheet of paper he held by his finger tips, he wondered how he could possibly face her after being the cause of the whole mess. He wrapped the rest of his fingers around the paper, scrunching it up in his hand. The paper became a ball with a satisfying crunch before he threw it at the wall halfheartedly. It bounced off, rolling near his side once more, sitting there enticingly.
Staring, he thought that perhaps seeing her wouldn't hurt. But his body refused to move.
Author's note : Wow I must have been watching too many soap operas when I read this.
This is a chapter I dug out while cleaning out my fic folder…I wouldn't expect the end any time soon rolls eyes So melodramatic!