Title: I'll Be Home For Christmas

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: AU. Set in the 1990's, in a large city.

Couple: AOSHI x MISAO

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin. (But you can bet I wish I do!!!) Please review! I welcome flames too, but I can't say I really want them.

I'll be home for Christmas
You can plan on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree

A shattered mirror sat on the floor, leaning against the rotting wall. A wet newspaper was sprawled out on the floor, reading December 24th, 1997. Dust caked the ground in a layer of deep grim, hiding the scurrying ants that had came inside the building because of the soft, white snowfall outside. The ceiling had many holes, in which the snowdrift flew into the room, bringing the wintry feeling into the somber room. A bookshelf publicized the black and white photos of a rich family who once lived in the broken penthouse. Now no one lived here, except the ants...and her.

She was huddled on a moth-eaten rug, that in its previous life was probably a brilliant shade of warm red, but now was an ugly dirt color. She laid on her side, her knees curled under her chin, her hands clinging to her own warmth. The snow had engulfed her scanty frame, giving her a icy white evening gown. Her braid was tossed on the ground, waving slightly when the winter breeze blew. She shivered. Silent tears crawled down her pale face, dripping off her chin.

When the gun shots started up again in the streets below, she buried her tear-stained face in her legs, crying like an infant. The city was corrupted with crime. Instead of the vivifying stars at night, they had a crestfallen sky of smog. The curses yelled through the lewd alleys mingled together, forming a boisterous carol that was sang throughout the nation. The homeless sat in the streets, asking for mercy that they would never see. The runaways hid in the alleyways, only to be caught in gang crossfire before they ever got the sense to come home. Life was a meaningless trial of strength: If you were strong you lived, if you were weak you died. Cunning couldn't keep you alive. Friends were illusory myths, forgotten by these metropolitan gangs. Friends weren't real. Love wasn't true. Life was a waste, a inferno in which no one could leave the fires of malevolence.

Christmas Eve will find me
Where the lovelight gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams

A letter laid crumbled in the girl's hand. Every now and then, when the gunfire silenced, she would cautiously sit up and read the letter:

Dear Misao,

I miss you. Please, meet me at the park on 4th street at 8:30 on Christmas Eve. We're leaving this Christmas.

Aoshi

Aoshi was going to take her away. He'd had worked relentlessly to get bus tickets and they were going to leave together. They would find a quiet, sleepy town in the country. They would be content soon. The gunfights would be far, far away from the defiled streets of this city. All the tears she had cried would be left behind, staining the floors of all the abandoned rooms she'd slept in. But life would soon be better. They would never go in fear of fatal injuries again.

At eight o'clock, she climbed to her feet, unsteadily. A gunshot sounded from some far off street, and Misao fell to her knees, trembling with apprehension. Silence... She crawled out of the room, her body low to the ground. Her dark eyes were red from her bountiful tears that poured down her face in a rain everyday. She got to the top of the stairs and heard another shots. Yells raised up in a multitude of deadly chorus. More shots, that echoed like thunder in a storm. Crying, Misao sat down, holding her quivering body. "Aoshi...," she whispered hoarsely. "Aoshi..." She pulled her knees up to her face, burying her face in her legs, shivering. It was freezing outside, but it was nothing compared to her body heat. Her temperature had plummeted, forcing her to rattle with anxiety.

The breaking of glass made her jump up, falling down the stairs. Her screams added to the opera of death outside. She collapsed on the first floor, making dust shoot up from the ground, drifting in a could overhead. They were close - that had been her window that had broken. She laid motionless, sobbing silently. "Aoshi, Aoshi..."

I'll be home for Christmas
You can plan on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree

The gunfight lasted for the entire night. Never did Misao move from her solitary place on the floor. She moaned all night. Aoshi had probably left. He was probably gone. At two, the police managed to subdue the savage gangs. The gunfire had stopped. But Misao's heart was still riddled with fear.

"Misao?" a quite voice called from the front of the house.

She stayed motionless, fear over-sweeping her like an ocean. She been rattling on the dusty floors, and now was cringing at the thought of an intruder in the building. She dug her nails into her own skin, crying tears of pain.

"Misao? Oh, Misao?" The voice was woeful, as though at his dreams had been destroyed with one shot of a gun. "Misao, the tickets are gone..." He stood behind her, facing her back. "I'm sorry..." A wet tear dropped into her pale cheek. He sat down, sighing heavily.

"Aoshi...?" she whispered, turning around. A young man with chocolate hair was holding his knees under his chin. His sapphire blue eyes were moist... Was he crying? He was looking past, seeing things that were never there. His face was blank. She sat up, and his eyes came back from the distant gaze he had had. They stares met each other.

Christmas Eve will find me
Where the lovelight gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams

He had been robbed. The tickets were gone. Their future had been lost in the turmoil of this twisted world. And he was crying. The strongest man Misao had ever known was crying. She pulled herself into his arms, clinging onto his body. And she sobbed with him. They had to get out...they had to leave...

A shattered mirror sat on the floor, leaning against the rotting wall. A wet newspaper was sprawled out on the floor, reading December 24th, 1997. Dust caked the ground in a layer of deep grim, hiding the scurrying ants that had came inside the building because of the soft, white snowfall outside. And two huddled bodies laid on the floor, holding each other in their arms. "Merry Christmas, Misao."

If.. only..in..my...dre...ams...