What good is an angel with chained wings and a heavy heart?

"She is in Kyoto?" Aoshi's voice was deceptively mild, his eyes giving nothing away. "For how long, Okon?"

She looked away. "A week."

A week. Aoshi fought back laughter, knowing that it would be his ruin. He had been looking for her for five years and she had been in Kyoto, under his nose, for a week.

"A week." Okita murmured, his eyes revealing nothing. "She's been in this city for a week?"

Okon could only nod dumbly. "Hai."

"Where, Okon?" Shiro asked softly, sadness in his dark eyes. "Where is she?"

"I-I don't know."

Aoshi stood up abruptly, upsetting the table. The dishes and cups shattered on the floor around her shaking body. "Where the hell is she!"

"Aoshi-sama!" Omasu stammered, moving in front of her friend as if to protect her. "Aoshi, please calm..."

"Iie." His voice was low and strained. He allowed the dark hair to hide his tormented eyes. "I have been waiting, searching for five years. I grow weary of being lied to. I am sick of your lies. Just tell me the truth and be done with it."

"She's getting married you know," Okon spat, her eyes teary. She got a sick sense of triumph with his visible wince. "Why would you want to see her, when she belongs to another?"

Aoshi fought the urge to tear his hair out, opting instead to close his eyes. Okon's tearful, pleading expression was too much for him to bear.

"Where, Okon. Tell me now."

She couldn't help it. "Why?" It was her pleading with him. Misao is happy, she doesn't remember you. Couldn't you move on? With me?

"Because I need to see her."

"Why?" Okon shrugged off Omasu's restraining hand. "WHY!" Why does it always have to be Misao? Why isn't it fair? It just doesn't seem fair...

"I'll tell you," she whispered. "I'll tell you where I saw her. But you have to tell me why."

He laughed, and it was bitter. It sent chills up her spine. "You ask why?"

She nodded dumbly.

Aoshi turned, the frayed edges of his trench coat whipping around his legs. Before moving silently to the door, he turned once, shooting a look so filled with emotion that Okon had to turn away.

"Because I can't keep living like this."

It's tearing me apart.

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Himura Kenshin paused and looked up from his washing, amethyst eyes squinting in the sun. Something wasn't right. There was a chill in the air, something that crawled up his spine. Scanning the Kamiya dojo's courtyard and seeing nothing threatening, the rurouni shrugged and continued to hang the clothes on the line.

Perhaps I'm just nervous, de gozaru. It isn't like things are going smoothly lately.

The redhead gave into the urge and sighed. His plans of a marriage proposal were not going as well as he had hoped. Even with Sanosuke and Yahiko gone, he just hadn't been able to pop the question. And damn it, the ring was burning a hole in his gi's pocket.

"There just always seems to be something in the way," he growled, shaking out the kimono with a little more force than necessary.

Or maybe you're just a coward, wondering if she would actually say yes after all you've put her through. Now if we had just listened to me in the first place...

Kenshin rolled his eyes. Always nice to have the Battousai's moral support.

"Once I find out what's hindering me, I'll get rid of it," he declared. He fingered the wooden box lovingly. "And then everything will be perfect."

Now if only this chill would go away...

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Shinji smiled as he watched the slight man walk towards the dojo, glancing large violet eyes warily over his shoulder every now and then.

Obviously there's a reason he is called the most feared man of the Bakamatsu.

No one had ever been able to sense his presence. Hitomouri Shinji had never been particularly skillful with a blade, but he was arguably one of the best ninja's in all of Japan.

But the blow to his pride was small, he reminded himself. Himura was not who he had taken the train to see today.

After the rurouni had left for the market, still shooting skeptical glances around the grounds, a movement in the corner of Shinji's eyes caught his attention. Shifting silently from his perch on the tree limb, Shinji watched the young beauty exit her room, closing the shoji behind her and calling the Battousai's name.

What had the Battousai said? Ah, yes.

There just always seems to be something in the way. Once I find out what's hindering me...

Shinji grinned softly as the girl walked closer to his hiding place, her voice clear and unafraid as she called for the rurouni again. Silently, he drew his dagger.

I'll get rid of it.

And everything will be perfect.

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"Kenshin!"

Kaoru fumed in silence, her large blue eyes clouded with worry. The rurouni had been nervous and fidgety for two weeks. What was going on?

Would he leave me again?

The thought threatened to depress her, so she pushed it away. Something was definitely amiss. Now if only Kenshin would talk to her about it...

"Kamiya Kaoru."

Kaoru looked up and gasped, her eyes wide at the sight of the small, handsome man boldly swinging his legs from his seat on the branch. Her mouth formed a slight 'o' of exasperation when she spotted the glint of a blade in his right hand.

"Kenshin's not the Battousai anymore," she fumed, tossing her head and preparing to stalk off. "Go and waste your life doing something else."

Shinji grinned at that. So the dojo master thought that he had come for the Battousai? How amusing.

"She dreams of you," he murmured.

Kaoru stopped walking, her breath stopping as she slowly turned around to meet his dark gaze. The man was obviously out of his mind. "What?"

"Every night as of late." Shinji lept soundlessly out of his perch and leaned against the trunk with a lazy attentiveness. "She says your name. Kamiya Kaoru. It annoys me."

Is he talking about Kenshin? I told him to get rid of the gi...

"Look, mister..."

But the blood had drained from her face and the words stuck in her throat.

Shinji's ear twitched as he heard the snap of a twig behind him. Whirling, he smiled slowly, finding himself looking down at a young, spiky haired boy.

The student defending the master? How ironic.

"Kaoru, get behind me," Yahiko ordered, his palms sweaty on his bokken.

"Leave us, little one."

Yahiko swallowed his automatic protests of the title. "Kaoru! Kaoru, get behind me!"

But all she could do was stare dumbly at the thing clutched in the man's pale hand.

A black braid...tied with a green silk ribbon. A ribbon that she had given to a certain ninja girl for her birthday five years ago.

The ribbon that the certain ninja girl had promised never to take off.

"Misao?"

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In town, Kenshin's head snapped up, his eyes filled with worry. "Kaoru-dono?"

Something was wrong...

So he ran, halfway to the dojo before the tub of tofu broke on the ground.

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"I need to go out," the girl who was once Misao whispered. The room was suffocating. She felt as if she would go insane if forced to stay.

But if Shinji found out that I had disobeyed...

She sobered immediately.

"Kagura, you've done it again."

She protested loudly, raising her fists. "I'm not Kagura, you sick sonofabitch."

He ignored her protests. Her blows were pathetic, considering that she had refused to eat for the last few days."You were talking in your sleep."

He reached inside his jacket and produced a small blade. "You said his name."

She lifted her chin, a last defiance. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He kissed her then, his mouth hot and intruding. Struggling with the urge to vomit, she twisted away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Shinji cursed, wiping away the blood that she had drawn from his lip. Muttering a savage oath, he backhanded her, watching in satisfaction as she crumpled to the floor. He knew that she was too weak to fight him.

And by the time she was strong enough, there would be no fight left.

"Haven't I told you not to disobey me? Haven't I?" His eyes grew wild, and he raised his hand. She couldn't find the energy to do anything but close her eyes. "YOU SAID HIS NAME!"

Her blood splattered the walls. But she couldn't bring herself to scream.

The girl they called Kagura frowned, touching a white finger to her throbbing temple. She hadn't been able to get enough sleep with these nightmares plaguing her.

"I have to get out," she repeated, her voice a little stronger than it had been. Resolute, she dressed and grabbed her purse. Stopping to check her surroundings- odd, how she could never remember Shinji teaching her this as he claimed- she slipped out, unnoticed.

Shivering slightly in her new found power, the girl walked boldly into the marketplace. Spying a fruit stand, she squared her shoulders and walked towards it.

And slammed directly into someone, knocking the wind out of her lungs.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, bowing quickly to hide the sudden panic in her eyes. What should she do? If Shinji-san were here, he would have known the right things to say.

And then he would have slapped me for my carelessness once we were home.

The woman banked the small voice of rebellion.

"Again, many apologies," she murmured respectfully, straightening and preparing to move aside.

She found her shoulders gripped desperately, jerked in surprise.

And looked up into tormented ice eyes.

"Misao."

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Aoshi felt his knees weaken, and he gripped the girl's shoulders painfully though she showed no sign of pain.

My God, it is Misao.

He nearly laughed. Nearly, but found he could do nothing but stare. He had literally bumped into her in the street. What were the odds of that? Was fate enjoying this? Tormenting him?

His eyes drunk in the sight of her, his heart straining to burst. She had grown some, but was still petite. What had once been adolescent promise had given way to the full blown beauty of maturity.

My God, was she always this beautiful? This perfect?

"Misao."

But there was no braid. And no laughter in her eyes.

"Misao."

There was a bruise on her cheek bone, and his fingers dug into her skin deeper.

"Misao."

She opened her mouth and closed it, her eyes blank what he feared was confusion.

Could you have truly forgotten? Forgotten the Aoiya? Forgotten the Oniwabanshu?

"Misao."

Forgotten...me?

She didn't struggle, and his heart sank. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid that you have the wrong person."

"Misao." He found that he could say nothing else.

Her eyes grew dimmed. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid that you have the wrong person."

"Misao."

Something flickered in her gaze. Rage. "This is the second time I've been mistaken for that girl. I regret to inform you that I am not her."

"Misao."

Something snapped. "Stop calling me that!" she spat, wrenching out of his painful grip. "My name is not Misao. My name is Kagura. I suggest that you go home, Aoshi-sama, and leave me alone."

They both stilled, realizing the same thing at the same time.

"How...how," she stammered, growing pale.

He had never told her his name.

"Oh, my god," she breathed, covering her face with equally white hands. "Oh, my god, oh, my god."

He dared to take a step closer to the shaking girl. His heart seemed to explode from his throat with each beat.

"Do you remember?"

She looked up, her eyes clouded. She raised a shaking hand to her abdomen, and Aoshi fought down bloodlust as he watched her wince.

Someone had dared to touch what was his.

"Do you know me?" He wanted to shake her, but instead kept his hands down at his sides, his fingers digging painfully into his palms. "Do you?"

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"I don't know," she whispered tearfully, her voice muffled by her hands. "Oh, God, I don't know."

Whirling, she shoved and stumbled her way out of the market place, urging her feet to move faster when she heard his delayed shout of alarm.

Weaving and ducking past startled shoppers, the girl raced home as if the hounds of hell were at her heels.

And to be honest, with the way this man was screaming that name, that idea suddenly didn't seem too ridiculous to her.

Panting with exertion- she had lost her tabi somewhere down the line - she leapt up onto the balcony, slamming the door behind her and leaning her forehead against it as she heard his voice shouting that girl's name and pounding on the gate.

"Kagura."

She stiffened and turned slowly, facing the knowing countenance of her fiancé. As always, she was hit with a kind of flaring hatred that faded as quickly as it had come.

"Shinji- san."

"Kagura, who is that at the gate?"

She struggled not to flinch at his measured tone. "A man that followed me home from the market."

For once, Shinji simply smiled. She relaxed fractionally. He seemed to be in a good mood tonight, and she wondered about it. She was loosening up enough to let a small, uncertain smile unfurl when a muffled sound caught her attention.

"Ah!" Shinji smacked his forehead with the flat of his palm. "How idiotic of me, forgetting that I had brought you a present."

She dared not move, her eyes riveted to the large box that her fiancé had placed at his feet.

Was there someone in there?

There was another muffled thump, as if to support her guess. She felt sick.

Shinji bent down and flipped the lock with a flourish, keeping his gaze on his fiancee as the lid sprung open.

A dark haired girl lurched up, sweat running down her face, dampening her clothes. She was gasping for breath, her small hands grasping at her chest. There was dried blood on the silk.

The girl who used to be Misao stiffened, pain flickering behind her eyes as something throbbed in her head.

I have seen this girl before.

A flash of laughter rang in her thoughts, and she could see this girl grinning at her in her mind's eye. Impossible. Her hands covered her ears and the room tilted. What was going on?

The dark haired girl scanned the room quickly before coming to rest on Kagura. Her face went white before she gasped in pain as Shinji roughly hauled her up by her long hair.

"Do you like your gift, my love?"

No matter how far I run, I seem always crash into you. Is there no escape?