After living with him for these last weeks, all I can say is that Makimachi Masaru is a very strange boy.

I tend to have to wake up early for the Student Council meetings, so when I go, he's just a tightly curled up bump underneath the covers. Almost all of his classes are with us seniors, despite still being only in first year - and even those are peculiar. Alright, English I can perhaps understand; his is almost fluent, but why maths, history, geography and science? The school seems to have waived several rules for him, including on the uniform. He doesn't have to get changed with the rest of his class for PE, and he doesn't do swimming. He has his shower when the rest of us are in prep. The supposed reason is that his upper body is covered with burn scars from a fairly recent accident, but that doesn't sit right with me. People with scars tend to ignore them after a while.

I should know shouldn't I? My body is covered with scars from the tournament. No one stares at them anymore. They never did, in fact. Nobody cares enough to be even curious. As it should be. The people who knew me enough to care, already know how those scars were received.

But Makimachi-kun's behaviour is utterly mind-boggling. His books and papers are constantly scattered across our room - yet his clothes and toiletries are always tucked away. And all of his clothes and shoes - not just school clothes, are brand new. He washes his hair every night, even though it means going to bed with wet hair. And then he complains loudly about it.

I just can't figure him out. There's no real reason to suspect anything; he's a very open person, and just ask one question, he won't stop talking. Yet I feel like he's hiding something.

Makimachi...Even the name is familiar. I just can't place it. But it will come back to me eventually.

For now, I have a kenpo club to run.

Meiji Heights
By Aishiteru
Part 3: All in the Family

"AOSHI-SAMA!!!! AOSHI-SAMA!!!!"

Gulp.

I stepped out of the classroom anyway, and kept my expression bland. There were ten girls from first year, all of them with a predatory glint in their eyes.

I was in trouble.

"Ano....sempai," the one in the lead began, blushing furiously. "T-t-there's a dance at the end of term..."

I was in so much trouble.

"A-a-and we were wondering if Aoshi-sama would like to come with one of us." She smiled, then awkwardly fluttered her eyelashes. I tried my best not to wince. Okay, what was the best way to politely refuse them all without making anyone cry?

"SEMPAI!"

I looked around at the direction of the loud cry. Several of the girls did too, while unsuccessfully trying to smooth out expressions of annoyance. It was Makimachi-kun. He charged (bravely, but insanely) right through the girls. Most of them were taller them him. He grabbed my wrist, then dragged me out. "Sempai, Himura-sempai wants to discuss the problem in classroom 2-E with you. He says it's really urgent!"

"A~a. I better go see him." I quickly beat a 'strategic retreat.' Oh all right. I ran away.

By the time we got around the corner, Makimachi-kun was grinning widely. I narrowed my eyes at him in mock-suspicion. "Did Himura really need to see me?"

His grin grew, and his eyes widened innocently. "Nope."

"A~a. Thank you."

"You looked like you were in a bit of trouble. Do they do that all the time?"

"Un."

"Must be nice to be so popular..."

We were walking down the corridor by this time. I stopped, and looked at him incredulously. "Most of the time, it's annoying, not nice."

He gave me an inquiring look. "Why ever not? Isn't that what most males dream of, being accosted by a bevy of giggling girls?"

I snorted. "I prefer someone with something resembling a brain."

He laughed oddly. "I see."

We continued on in silence, and I could sense his discomfort like a physical sensation. One hand was up behind his head, and he kept on shooting furtive glances in my direction. I stopped. "What is it?"

Makimachi-kun gave me one startled look, then talked. "Ah...well, my grandfather called me the other day. He said that there was something of a family...emergency back at home, and I had to come home for at least part of the weekend. I know I said that I would help out everyone else in setting things up, but Jiya already said that I would be coming, and he badgered me in to going, and I'm really sorry sempai, I didn't mean-"

"Makimachi-kun. You're babbling."

He shut up, but looked so downcast I couldn't help but smile very slightly. "It doesn't matter. Go home, if you must. Hannya and the others will take care of everything."

He brightened, then flashed me a wide relieved smile. "Thanks, sempai! I'll see you later then!" He sped off in the direction of the dorms.

I sighed, and ran a hand through my hair. I had better hurry, or I wouldn't make it back to Tokyo until quite late. But first I had to see Hannya, and finish organizing things with him.

"We'll be straight after the final kendo matches, so we'll have to wait until they clean up. But have the mats ready to bring out straight away."

"As you say, Okashira."

"The judges tables should remain in the same position. Oh, and don't forget to remind everyone to go to bed early, and to drink and eat normally. Remind them to bring water too, but not to drink it just before a match. And-"

"Okashira, we'll be fine."

I took one look at Hannya's exaggeratedly patient expression, and realized just how much of an idiot I sounded like. However, this was only the second time the Oniwabanshuu had competed in this type of tournament. I didn't want any of my members shamed because I hadn't prepared them properly. It was my duty to make sure they could fight with all their skill.

"You're going to be late going home, if you linger much longer Okashira." Hannya told me pointedly.

I nodded. "I'm going then. See you on Sunday."

He nodded, and turned back to enter the gym. I sighed, picked up my bag, then headed to the station.

Saturday dawned. Father and I spent our morning being stuffed into 'something presentable' by mother, then waiting for her verdict while being surveyed by cool grey eyes. I ended up changing no less then three times at her urging. In the end she settled for something that I could still move fairly well in, which was a relief. I was dressed in long black slacks, and a plain blue black shirt with a jacket on top. Before we left, I grabbed my white trench coat from my wardrobe. Mother shot me a 'look', she hated my trench coat, so I sighed and put it back. It wouldn't be her freezing if it was colder at night. She was dressed quite simply and severely in a high collared slim fitting dress, and father wore one of his customary suits. As we stepped out of the door, mother stopped me to straighten my jacket collar, and run a critical hand through my hair. I endured all of this stoically.

"You need a haircut," she told me fondly.

"I had one last month," I countered. This sudden deluge of motherly concern was smothering me. For half a year, my parents had been touring around western Europe, and before that, they had been in America, and before that, China...Father's work took them everywhere, and with far too much moving for me to be schooled. So I stayed in Japan by myself. I was used to living by myself, so it was always something of a shock when they came back home.

I almost slid behind the wheel of the car, but father beat me to it, with an amused glint in his eye, but no comment.

Since it had been six months since they had been in the country, my Aunt Kaori was holding something of a reunion gathering to bring together all her errant relatives. I sighed. Such gatherings were frequently noisy, boisterous, and ended only in the wee hours of the morning. And Aunt would be inviting people from both sides of her family. I brooded quietly on what sort of condition I would arrive at the tournament as, while father and mother quietly talked in the front.

"-Heard that Okina's grand-daughter transferred to Meiji High, Aoshi-chan. Have you met her?"

I blinked. "I'm not sure. What's her name?"

Father frowned - I could see it in the rear view mirror. "Hmm...She was Daisuke's sister's daughter wasn't she, koishi? Her name....Everyone always calls her 'Mi-chan', but I think her name is Misao..."

Mother nodded her agreement. "That's right. That was such a terrible time, losing not only Daisuke, but Seiji and Michie like that...She was hardly more then a baby when they died."

I shrugged. "I don't think I've met her. But she would only be about fifteen now, right? I don't know all of the first years."

We pulled up in front of my Aunt's familiar house, and I climbed out of the car gratefully. The back seat had nothing resembling leg room. As we walked up the drive, the door was flung open, and my aunt and two cousins came tumbling out.

"Kotaro! Yukiko! You made it! And Aoshi-chan too!" I was immediately pulled into several hearty hugs.

"Aoshi," my cousin Omasu told me pouting. "We never see you anymore! You're always at school, or too busy to go out with your stuffy older cousins, aren't you?"

Her sister Okon butted in. "Oh, leave him alone, Omasu. If we mature women in our twenties were seen with such a gorgeous young man of eighteen like dear Ao-chan here, we'd be accused of being pedophiles. Plus, we'd have to beat all his admirers off with sticks. He's just too young to be seen with us, I'm afraid!"

"Heheh, he's not too young for Mi-chan though..." They both raised their eyebrows, and smiled alarmingly. It was rather like being eyed like a piece of meat by several large hungry carnivores. I gave them my customary flat eyed blank look - replying just made them worse. Far better to let them babble their nonsense, then promptly forget about it.

"Speaking of Mi-chan, is she here yet?"

"Of course not. When have you known Jiya to be on time?"

"Right..."

I was borne away on a wave of easy chatter, and resigned myself to a long night. Small talk. I hated small talk. At least aunt Kaori's cooking should make up for most of it.

Inside was distinctly warm, and I could already hear the low roar of many people speaking. I discarded my jacket immediately, then prepared myself to enter the main room.

As soon as I entered, I was engaged in various forms of small talk. For most of the time I contented myself with switching my brain off, and communicating in monosyllables. I was soon dismissed as hopelessly introverted, and politely ignored. Most of the people here I was only vaguely familiar with - the only thing we had in common with each other was that we were unfortunately related to Omasu and Okon. I was either about a decade older, or a decade younger then most of the people here.

"Mi-chan! Jiya! How have you been!" I heard the two loud squeals from over a myriad of conversations, but that was not only because of the volume of the cries. Chatter died down, and heads turned. I heard quiet whispers. Nothing like old family gossip.

"-you might be a bit bored, Mi-chan, but at least there's someone fairly close to your age here for once! Hmm...Where'd Ao-chan go, Okon?"

"He's right here Omasu!"

"Whaaaaa.....Where are you dragging me to, you two?"

At the sound of that voice, my head shot up, and I looked with startled eyes to see Makimachi-kun being dragged over to me by my cousins, both wearing grins. But all I could see was him. Or perhaps I should say 'her.' Because...It was most definitely not a boy that was fast approaching me. There was nothing particularly different about her face - but her hair fell in soft locks to frame her face rather then always being pushed back by gel. And she was, unbelievably, wearing a skirt, and open necked shirt. The body thus revealed, while slender, was most definitely a girl's. All I could do was stare in utter confusion, feeling rather pole-axed.

This could not be Makimachi-kun, yet somehow I knew it was. The face, the build, and even the voice was the same, albeit pitched higher then I was used to hearing. But the one thing that convinced me was how easily I read his- no, her expression, the way the large eyes widened fractionally in horror, then darted away, the came back to rest on my face.

A girl. For almost half a term I had been sharing my room with a girl. Any number of his peculiar habits suddenly clicked into place. He was a she. Masaru-kun was actually "Mi-chan."

It was only through supreme effort was I able to keep my expression bland while our cousins introduced us. "Mi-chan, this is Shinomori Aoshi. He's related to us through mama. Ao-chan, this is Makimachi Misao. She's related to us through papa." Omasu grinned.

"This is actually the second time you've met," Okon interjected cheerfully.

"S-second?" Makimachi-kun stammered, looking somewhat pale.

"I don't expect you two to remember," Okon laughed mischievously.

"It was that summer we went up to the beach-"

"I was fourteen that summer, and you were sixteen-"

"So Ao-chan was four, and Mi-chan was two."

"And they were so cute together! Do you remember how Mi-chan just used to toddle after him? She wouldn't leave poor Aoshi-chan alone, not even when they were eating. He had to be there when Aunt Michie used to bathe her-"

"-change her nappy-"

"-even breast-feed her!"

"Ah, but Aoshi-chan was wrapped completely around her little finger."

"Yes, Mi-chan only had to wrinkle up her face, and begin to cry-"

"And he'd fold and do whatever she wanted."

By the end of this humiliating recital, Makimachi-kun's cheeks had gone completely red, and I could feel a distinct warmth in my own. The sources of our discomfort turned to smile benignly at us.

"Well, I'm sure you two have plenty to catch up on-"

"-talk about-"

"So we'll see you both later on!"

With that they bounded off, devils in brightly coloured kimono.

Silence.

I turned my head slightly to study Makimachi-kun from the corner of my eye. She was sitting with her head lowered, staring at her folded hands. I could still see a definite tinge of rose on her cheeks. Her eyes flicked toward me, and she crimsoned again.

I smiled very slightly. Her embarrassment was a palpable thing, as was her apprehension. Despite her attempts to smooth her expression, it was easy for me to read. Does he know? Doens't he know? Oh, I knew alright. But what I really wanted to find out was why she was pretending to be a boy. And how she was so good at it. Despite her rather delicate facial features, she had the whole school fooled, purely through her boyish manner.

I idly wondered just how she was planning to talk to me, or train, if she went beet red merely by looking at me. And then it hit me.

Although I had only known him for about two or three months, I didn't want the Makimachi-kun I knew to change. I didn't want his constant flow of talk suddenly hampered, or for him to go red, and tongue-tied whenever he was around me. Because, for whatever reason, no matter how different we seemed, I considered Makimachi-kun to be...

A friend.

And now that things were so awkward, I wasn't sure what to do. Reassurance had never been one of my strong talents, and neither was any sort of subtle talking, so I could let her know I would keep her secret without actually saying I knew. I scowled. All this mental dancing around was giving me a headache.

"O-omasu told me..that Shinomori-san goes to Meiji HIgh."

I blinked. So she was finally venturing to speak. "A~a."

"My...my cousin goes to Meiji too."

So 'he' was another cousin, huh?

"His name...is Masaru."

Her voice wavered between being soft, and being rushed. It was hard to hear her over everyone else's conversations, but I didn't say anything. "I know a Makimachi Masaru," I replied neutrally.

"Mm. Masaru-kun...has spoken of you."

Unlikely, unless she spoke to herself. But despite my sure knowledge that it was him...her, she had me suddenly in doubt. This girl seemed genuinely shy, and she might only be blushing because of Okon and Omasu's mortifying childhood tales. I had never seen Makimachi-kun stammer, even at his most embarrassed. And I didn't know much about her family; there very well could be a Makimachi Masaru.

Or maybe I just really wanted to believe that, so I didn't feel so stupid at being so easily deceived.

"Aoshi? I should have known you'd be hiding in a corner."

I looked up into my mother's amused face blandly. Misao looked up, the looked back down at her hands, eyes widening. That slight movement drew my mother's attention. "It that you, Misao-chan?" She smiled. "My, you've grown up into a lovely young woman!"

I mentally groaned. What made all relatives say such inane things? My mother was usually reasonable intelligent.

"Ah," Misao blushed even harder if that was possible. "It's been a long time since I saw you, Aunt Yukiko."

"Far too long. Tell me what you've been up to?" Before the poor girl knew what was happening, my mother had settled herself comfortably next to us, and proceeded to give her a thorough questioning. Mid-way, I quietly slipped away, then returned with drinks. They would be talking for a long time.

"So, Misao-chan, I heard that you transferred to Meiji High. Aoshi-chan goes there too, you know?"

Misao nodded, her eyes huge. I tried to stifle my groans. First Omasu and Okon, and now my mother. Was everyone going to play matchmaker? True I should expect it from my mother though - she tried to set me up with some friend's daughter everytime she was home. But honestly...

"-so what have you been doing at school lately?"

"Well, this weekend is the interschool athletics. I'm expected to compete and all, so we should be very busy and all." I noticed that all the reticence had slipped away from her voice, and she had a familiar focused cast to her gaze. One hand had been brought up in a fist. She looked at it, then seemed to recollect herself, eyes widening a fraction in horror. Then she hastily used the hand to brush back a strand of hair. "Ah, after this weekend, we have some sort of dance, but I don't know much about that."

"Really? I would have thought that sort of thing would be much more interesting then sports," Mother prodded.

"Ah...not really..." Misao floundered. "I mean....it's not very interesting...and I go to lots of events like that with Jiya."

Mother waved a dismissive hand, and almost spilt her drink. "High school dances are nothing like that Misao-chan. Do you have a date?"

"...A...date?"

"Of course! That is what dances are about! Getting asked, or asking a young man to go with you...worrying over your dress and make-up with your friends...then going out, and having a wonderful time!" Mother smiled, her eyes nostalgic. Misao looked bewildered, and not a little skeptical. "But you'll see dear."

Her upraised eyebrows were sending a very clear message to me. This girl is perfect for you. Ask her out! I simply stared rather sourly back at her. It was a message I had seen about a thousand times. In order to stave off any more prodding comments, I cleared my throat, and asked my first question of the night. "Ah...So you're competing this weekend? What club are you in?"

The question popped out as the first thing I thought of, but as she remained silent for a few seconds, I realized just how awkward it might be. Her fingers trembled for a moment, then clenched around her glass. "Oh, I'm in-"

And then, somehow, she managed to skillfully spill her drink, so that only a few drops landed on her, none landed on me or my mother, and most ended up on the floor and couch.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed. I saw her expression of pure guilty relief. "Excuse me. I'll just clean this up." She darted away, presumably in search for something to clean the mess up with, while mother shook her head. Then she simply smiled rather conspiratorially at me.

"Aoshi. It's obvious you like the girl. Why don't you ask her out to that dance?"

I blinked. That one came a little fast. My only reply was my obviously pole-axed expression. She simply clicked her tongue. "Never mind. Just think about it. I'll leave you two alone."

I wish. As bad as it sounded, I was looking forward to having my mother out of the country again.

Misao came back, armed with a box of napkins. She hadn't been gone long, and very soon everything was soaked up. I helped her pick up the soggy tissues, and she jumped slightly as our hands met. "Eh...Thank you, Shinomori-san."

I took one look at her flushed agonized expression, and took pity on her. "Where's the bin?"

"Ah...Ah! Just this way." I followed her into the kitchen.

Dinner was a strained affair. I limited myself to eating and listening, and Makimachi-san seemed to have decided the same thing. If only Omasu and Okon had done the same.

"So," Omasu started, her eyes betraying mischief. "Have you seen much of Sou-kun lately, Mi-chan, going to Meiji and everything? I hope you've kept in contact with him; he's a sweet guy."

"A...Ano!" Misao exclaimed. "We've talked over the phone...but I haven't met up with him since summer break."

Okon smiled. "Maybe you should ask him to your dance!"

"I don't think so. Sou-kun and I are best friends, that's all."

I picked quietly at my dinner, wordless.

"Ooooh, really? I think he's got a big fat crush on you Mi-chan. He always has!"

"Omasu!"

"Just kidding, Mi-chan!"

"Mou!"

"So, Ao-chan. Who're you taking to this dance?" Okon asked, with a decidedly demonic gleam in her eye.

I swallowed my food first politely. "No one. I might not even go."

"W-W-WHAT!?" My two cousins screeched in deadly unison.

I frowned at them over the rim of my glass. "You heard me."

"B-b-b-but think of the poor girl who you could take! You'd be depriving her of so much!"

"Yes, and she could be sitting right in front of you..."

I resisted the urge to bury my face in my hands. Makimachi-san looked like she was just about ready to die; her face was lowered almost into her dinner plate, and what I could see of it was a definite rosy shade. I sighed in impatience, and set my cup down with an audible clunk.

"Omasu. Okon. That's enough."

"But Ao-chan, you know-"

That was Okon, right before Omasu nudged her in the ribs, and shook her head slightly. Maybe it was because I was giving them the Okashira stare I usually reserved for when facing opponents in the tournament. Or maybe it was the fact that they had finally noticed just how embarrassed Makimachi-san was. Whatever it was, it shut them up at last, and they turned to the more innocuous subject of their own love lives. Thank god.

And while they were distracted, and the other adults were busy talking to one another, I was the only to see Makimachi-san quietly slip away outside, after leaving her barely touched plate in the kitchen.

After a moment's hesitation, I followed her.

Author's Note: Dnn dnn dnn! ( Hey, was the ending actually kind of cliff-hangerish?) Shall I go straight to the scene with Misao and Aoshi next chapter, or shall I flip back to what happened to Kenshin and Co. back at school? Which one? Hehehehe! Kyaaa!!!! 21 reviews for Chapter 4 alone! Thanks everyone!!!! That makes me soooo happy! Argh, this chapter was so long - 4000+ words....*falls off chair* I didn't think I'd ever write so much! Ah, one more week until holidays, and then I can really start writing in earnest! That is, unless I get distracted by my PS2...hehehehe. Oh, and if Aoshi seemed a little callow, and OOC in this fic, well it is AU, and he does have a family. And he is fairly young!

Oh, and on Misao and Aoshi being related. I know lots of you have already asked that. No. They are NOT related. Ewww....Incest. No. I won't be going for all the angst that accompanies that sort of thing. The family tree is, Okina had a daughter and a son. The daughter, Michie, was Misao's mother. The son, Daisuke, was the father of Omasu and Okon. Their mother, Kaori, is Aoshi's mother's sister. So while Aoshi and Misao are both related to Omasu and Okon, they are not related to each other. Phew.

Review Replies:

Crystal: Yup, Misao is really in for it! The confrontation should be next chapter...or the one after it, if I feel like being mean, and writing about Kenshin.

me: Heehee!

JML: *grin* you weren't too freaked out? I was hoping my male (and I'm presuming you are male from your name) readers wouldn't be too scared over a chapter on period pain.

Shadowmoon: Read the author's note if you want to know! And, I hope the family gathering was suitably embarrassing enough. But the good part's still to come. Gomen.

dynast: PRAISE TO DYNAST. HAIL THE PERSON WHO SENT ME HANAKIMI. Oh, by the way, Chapter 20, and 21 of Hanakimi is out, at this address. http://fetishlily.net/hanakimi/ Just in case you didn't know! I was considering having Aoshi turn a blind eye on Misao like Sano does in Hanakimi, but that would be direct plagirism, so I decided not to. Plus, it didn't mesh with some of the later scenes I have in mind. But again, thank you for sending it to me!

blue eyes: Arigato!

Nye-Yen: YAY!!!! You actually found this amusing? ....Wow. ~_^

Kyme-chan: Bu-buuu. It was the same family gathering. Gomen. ...It wouldn't be that suspicious would it? I didn't mean that Misao actually fully hugged him or anything...Just that you know when you're supporting someone, and you've got their arm slung over your shoulder? Well, Aoshi had Misao's over his shoulder, and she was just burying her face on the outside of it. Eheheh...The Aoshi-sama stuff is a little suspicious, but still...She, or 'he' could just be very respectful towards their captain, ne? (Oh, and on the reading/reviewing thing, we got a deal. So you had better review!)

Megami no Ushi: *snickers* I hope for Misao at least she won't be getting her period like that each month.

soul: WAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!

Sano: *beams* Certainly there will be more about the tournament thing. In fact, Misao will end up being tied up in it as well...hehehehe.

selene: Thank you!

misao034_sugoi-sugoi : Thank you! You actually felt bad? *grins*

Vesca: I hate it when it happens. Oh well. It gets dealt with. And Misao dealt with hers rather easily.

Aurora: Arigato! Yes, I promise to write more!

tenshineko: HAHAHAHA....*doubles over and chokes on evil laughter* Never mind me. Yes, well, her charade is in a lot of trouble. Oh, I checked out Tokyo Crazy Paradise! It's so good! *laughs* Poor Tsukasa...

Emerald: Wow...Someone found my writing funny enough to laugh at...I mean laugh at it in a good way, not in an unintentionally funny way...Eh? Why was Aoshi blushing? Because everyone was discussing how enough girls are in *LLLOOOOVE* with him to form a fan club, that's why!

lebleuphenix : Sorry to disappoint you, but I certainly noticed a distinct lack of mayhem in this chapter. I'll make up for it, I promise!!!!! I rather liked the idea of Aoshi blushing myself.

Tiian: Well, Aoshi just figured it out. Nuts. And don't worry about not reviewing every chapter; I'm really flattered that you not only take the time to read this, but that so many people have reviewed more then once! *sniffs*

+killua+: Aoshi is so cute...My fixation with him simply won't go away...Hehehe...It isn't that suspicious is it? Boys do get sick. (Don't they?)

IYandKH4ever: Mou! Does it have to be either???? Or can't it be both? Oops, that was a bit snappish, wasn't it? Gomen. It was a perfectly reasonable question. I just get a bit ticked off when people fiercely defend pairings. Alright, it won't really be a K/K, or a T/K, but as I've said somewhere else before, Kenshin will have a relationship of some sort with both girls. And as for Aoshi and Misao being related, read the author's note before the review replies.

Thanks for reviewing everyone! 21 reviews for one chapter...wow...I can't believe so many people are reading this! *happy teary anime eyes*