Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin isn't mine. Nor are most things this chapter.

Anyway, let's get things started.

IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE FIRST BETTING: IS EVIL, THEN READ IT.

By the way, there's an update for where I'm headed for the Betting: is EVIL series.

There's not going to be a spoof.

Non-singular. As in plural.

As in a "spoof series" (shut up):

Neko: is EVIL

Basically, it shows what happens at the Aoiya with Misao's new pet bunny. It takes place after Betting: is Evil.

You do remember the cute, fuzzy bunny that Hiko and Misao ate in the second chapter of Betting: is EVIL, don't you? Well, Neko wants revenge. Heh, and Aoshi didn't even do anything.

Romance: is EVIL

It's a spoiler for this story, because it takes place after Betting: is EVIL 2.

However . . .

SPOILER: (Scroll down! Scroll down! Shield your eyes and run for your life!)

blah

blah

blah

blah

blah

blah

blah

blah

And, blah.

Okay! After Tae's heart is broken, she decides that if she can't have Aoshi, then . . . Misao should! Our bishounen-obsessed waitress goes out of her way to get the two together . . . using any means necessary. And – anyone, ANYONE who's seen the whole Rurouni Kenshin series KNOWS what that means.

Haha. I grew up on spoilers. Now I get to ruin your lives.

That was a joke. I don't mean to ruin your lives. ::crosses fingers::

And of course there's Betting: is STILL EVIL.

And now, on with the chaos.

XXXXX

"You've go to be kidding me, Sano! There's no way you can get him to drink!" Yahiko said defiantly.

"Hey, I can get ANYONE to drink. I even tricked Jou-chan into drinking that western beer!" Sanoske argued.

"That's because you told her it was customary to drink it after taking a bath!" Yahiko snapped.

"Well, it worked, didn't it!?"

"What? You think that'll work on Aoshi!?"

"Er . . . well . . ."

"See!?"

"Yahiko, just you wait. I'll get that gloomy ice block to have a swig of sake if it's the last thing I do!"

"Did I hear somebody say 'bet'?" Yahiko said with a smirk.

"Oh, you're on! What are the terms?" Sano asked.

"Well . . . If you can't convince Aoshi to drink at least one bottle of sake, you have to treat all of us to dinner or lunch at the Aoiya . . ." Yahiko started.

"Easy," interjected Sanosked.

". . . For the whole weak of Misao's stay per day."

The rooster head gulped. "Fine. There's no way I'll lose anyway. If I CAN get Shinomori to drink sake, you have to be the itachi's servant boy for the week!"

"It looks like we've got ourselves a deal."

X

Most people wouldn't believe it if they heard that Shinomori Aoshi disliked water.

In fact, he hated water.

He hated it when he was wet.

He hated it when his hair was wet.

'Why', you ask?

His bangs.

Shinomori Aoshi's bangs were not created for water.

When wet, his hair no longer possessed that certain airiness that ... well ... made him Aoshi.

His hair would droop down, and his bangs would stick to his face.

THIS forced Aoshi to push them out of his eyes - - to the side, causing strange looks throughout the Aoiya.

Aoshi caught Kuro and Shiro sneaking peeks at him from time to time.

Okon and Omasu would say joking, yet annoyingly mocking things to or around him.

Things like the two suddenly having a conversation on western cameras or making comments on how he wasn't going out (in public) to the temple.

And this one he just LOVED: "Hello there, Aoshi. Did you get a new yukata? Something looks different about you, but I just can't put my finger on it."

This, of course, was from Okon. Omasu was far too polite, and smart, for that matter, to say such a thing.

Aoshi often saw her as the only "sensible" one of the group; besides himself, of course.

Anyway, Okina would grin every time he saw him, and Misao would burst into fits of giggles.

Nothing was wrong with Misao laughing. It made Aoshi happy when she did.

However, he didn't enjoy it when Misao laughed AT him.

No, that was not fun at all.

Of course, Misao would claim that she was laughing WITH him, no AT him, but wasn't true. After all, how do you laugh WITH someone who ISN'T laughing?

Then again, did Aoshi have a choice in the matter?

Nope.

In his room, Aoshi was trying vigorously to dry his hair with a towel, after deciding messy hair was better than wet hair.

A piece of wood was wedged in the shoji; no one would be watching him today.

'Still damp,' Aoshi thought, running his fingers through his hair. He scowled; he'd have to keep himself in his room for a while.

Big deal. Aoshi could wait. He went to retrieve a book – a new one, in fact. Shiro's "I feel sorry for you for staying with the sake hermit for a week, so here" gift.

Shiro also got Misao a ribbon. Hurray for her.

"Ooh! What do you think I should do once we get there? Wait 'til they see me! I've gotten taller since the last time they've seen me!"

Ah, yes. Misao. She'd been talking non-stop about the visit to Tokyo. When were they leaving again?

"I'm all done packing and everything!"

Aoshi was pretty sure they were leaving tomorrow.

"I wonder if Yahiko got any better. I beat him up last time!"

Yes, it's tomorrow.

"Ooh! The train ride'll be fun, too!"

Blah, blah, blah.

"Do you think Kaoru can cook now?"

"Misao . . . ?" came Omasu's voice.

"Yes?"

"Weren't you going to ask Aoshi something?"

"I was?"

"Yes . . . something about the visit."

"Oh. Okay then."

Good old Omasu. Always smart enough to get out of trouble . . .

Aoshi heard footsteps headed toward his room.

. . . and to get other people into it.

He took out the wood piece and continued reading.

"Aoshi-sama!"

'Just act busy . . .'

"Can I come in?"

If you don't answer she may not bother you.

"Aa."

The shoji slid open and Misao peeked her head in. "Aoshi-sama, did you start packing yet?"

'No.'

"We're leaving tomorrow . . . So . . ."

'HA! I was right!'

". . ."

"Ao – Aoshi-sama?"

"Nanda?"

"Um . . ." Misao came in and slid the door closed. She came and sat down across from him.

'Ho boy.' Aoshi slipped a piece of paper in between the pages and set the book aside.

"Aoshi-sama . . . Do you . . . not want to visit Himura?" she asked slowly.

Aoshi thought about it for several seconds. DID he want to go to Tokyo? Why did he have to come anyway? Did Battou – HIMURA specifically invite him? What reasons were there not to go?

Um . . . Maybe it'd be easier if he made a list of reasons TO go.

One, Misao's going.

Two, it'll be lonely and boring it she leaves without you.

Three, Misao wants you to come with her.

Good enough.

"What makes you think that?" he asked.

Misao looked down and played with her jaw. "Well . . . Because . . . um . . . Sanoske?"

Eh, that's true. However, Aoshi could tell that she was hiding something. He knew WHAT Misao was hiding, too.

Aoshi held in a sigh. Then he decided whether he should pretend to be amused.

"No."

"Then what?"

"You're making it sound as if you're going to drag me. I . . . do want to go."

He watched Misao's face brighten up. He watched her get up and say goodbye. He watched her leave.

Aoshi let the sigh out.

'Maybe I should pack.' He looked around the room wondering what he should bring.

Clothes. Duh.

Books. Duh.

Towel for hair drying. Well, dur.

He paused. One week. Surely those two little girls would come . . . at least for one day . . .

Paper. A must.

Weapons?

Kodachis?

Not a necessity.

That night . . .

Misao hummed to herself, brushing her long, unbraided hair. She smiled, she couldn't wait for tomorrow. First, an alone train trip with Aoshi. Misao had never been on a train before, and it sure looked fun. Then, a week at Himura's! She couldn't wait! She put her brush down and cuddled into her futon, after blowing the lamp out.

Misao slept soundly, dreaming of Yahiko complaining, "No fair kicking me!" and Kenshin's constant oroing, and Kaoru's temper tantrums, and Sanoske's drunken laughter, and Megumi's GOOD cooking.

And maybe . . . and maybe . . . Aoshi smiling.

Misao's grinned. "Aoshi-sama . . ."

Her shoji, which had been cracked open, closed.

"Stupid girl," Okina muttered, he watched Aoshi close the shoji. He watched him go down one of the hallways to his room, looking solemn as ever. Apparently, he didn't notice the old man.

"Stupid boy," he muttered, and headed to his room as well. He changed into his sleeping yukata and slipped into his futon. Okina wished that, somehow, Misao would stop dreaming. He knew the pain those dreams caused her when she awoke the next morning.

But before that, he'd have to find a way to stop his own dreaming.

"Stupid . . . freaking . . . sock . . ." Aoshi grumbled. He hopped around, trying to get a sock on. This continued for about ten more second until he lost his balance. "Whoa-! Hey!" His arms flailed for two seconds until he began to fall to the floor.

Aoshi smirked; he pushed his arm out, somersaulted, and landed on his feet.

The young boy grinned. The life of a ninja was good. Aoshi finally accomplished getting his sock on and headed down the stairs. He joined some other kids and ate breakfast. Hushed conversations weren't anything special here.

"Yeah, and he claims he invented that shape for the shuriken."

"Did you see Okina drunk last week?"

"That kid over there with the yellow hair and the headband with the swirly thing won't shut up about something called 'Cup Ramen' and 'justu'." (A/N This is a JOKE.)

"And THEN he . . ."

"EEEWWWWWWWWW!!!!!"

Um . . . Did I say hushed?

Aoshi laughed at Omasu's outburst. Shiro, on the other hand, was just outright cracking up. The other two just stared at him. Shiro was on the floor now, still laughing, holding his gut.

"Cramp! Cramp! Ow . . . this haha hurts!" Shiro tried to exclaim.

Some other kids nearby started laughing at him.

The day was beginning like any other day. Unfortunately, it would not end the same. The events of that night would change Aoshi's outlook on life forever.

. . . Crap, that sounded corny.

"Wh-What's going on?" Omasu whispered.

"How should I know?" Shiro whispered back.

"Shiro you're no help!"

"Fine. I'LL outline it for you," Aoshi said quietly. "Nenji-sensei stuffed us in a closet. He told us to be quiet and to stay IN the closet."

"You're no better!" Omasu exclaimed in a whisper.

"He also muttered something about finding a gag so Shiro would shut up," Aoshi continued.

"Hey!" Shiro hissed.

"Well it's true."

"Omasu!" Shiro whined.

"He seemed really worried. . ." Aoshi thought aloud.

"What do you mean, Aoshi?" Omasu asked.

"Hm . . ."

"Aoshi?"

"I'm going out."

"Are you crazy!? Okina told us to stay here!!" Omasu whispered.

"Relax. I have kunai and shuriken with me."

"You're only 6!" Omasu said.

"6 years, 10 months, and 4 days!" Aoshi said proudly.

"Yeah. You're crazy," Shiro agreed.

"I'm going."

"Wait! Aoshi! Aoshi!!"

X

Okina blocked, and slashed down. Blood spurted from his opponent's body.

It was a surprise attack. The adults fought off the intruders, while the children were hid in other places. Like closets. They were taught to fight and defend. Killing . . . murder . . . man slaughter . . . These were left out. The teachers' plan would always be to reveal the truth of the world at least at eight or nine. It was always thought best to shelter them, in case the war really had ended, and the children knew nothing of what they had truly missed.

"Is that all of them?" one of the other ninjas asked.

"It seems so," said another. Okina turned to the one who answered and bowed in respect.

"Okashira."

Makimachi smiled. "Yes . . . We should clean this up. The children might get suspic-"

The Okashira was interrupted by something metallic dropping to the floor.

All of the ninjas in the room turned to the doorway.

"It's . . ." Okina gasped.

"Why . . . Nenji-san . . . ?"

". . . Aoshi."

"Why did those men have to die?"

X

Okina ate breakfast slowly. He didn't feel too hungry.

"Ohayo!!" Misao bounded in.

Okina smiled. "Hello there."

"Hurry up and eat Misao. The train's not going to wait for you," said Okon, setting a tray down for Misao, who thanked her and immediately started eating.

Omasu looked around. "Where's Aoshi?"

Misao looked up. "Huh?"

"He's awake isn't he?" Omasu continued.

"I haven't seen him today," Okon admitted. "It's strange, he's usually up so early . . ."

"I'll wake him up," Okina volunteered. He rose and headed towards Aoshi's room.

He reached his door and lightly knocked. "Aoshi, are you awake?"

Silence.

"Aoshi?" Okina opened the shoji and stepped inside. Not surprisingly, there Aoshi was, still deep in sleep. Of course, that would come from someone who didn't know better. Okina, on the other hand, did. Not just because Okina was, besides Hiko, the only one to read Aoshi, but because he was probably the most observant person you'll ever meet, even to the point where it's lethally annoying.

Upon closer look, one could tell that Aoshi was, or had been, sweating, the blanket was quite wrinkled and messy, showing movement, Aoshi's brow was furrowed, almost in distress, and he was gripping his futon so tightly that his knuckles were a deadly pale shade.

Okina kneeled down and shook Aoshi's shoulder. "Aoshi. Wake up."

X

Screams.

That's all he heard.

Screams.

'No . . . wait . . .'

The terror continued.

Now the sounds of metal clashing filled Aoshi's ears.

'Make it stop.'

Another scream.

A voice inside Aoshi's head seemed to sneer.

"Ha! It won't. It will never stop, Shinomori. Not until I make you feel and accept the satisfaction of taking human life."

An unseen force caused Aoshi to strike forward, through the chest of yet another man.

And something stirred deep inside. Aoshi could feel something enjoying this . . . this insanity.

"Stop . . ." Aoshi gritted through his teeth.

Aoshi then felt something shaking his shoulder. It wasn't like, half-dreamthing-real. It was real-real.

Instinct took over. He moved his hand to his left, expecting to find his swords. That's when the intelligent side of him reminded him that he no longer had his kodachis next to him.

Stupid Sake Hermit.

Aoshi sat up. He still felt something holding his shoulder. He looked to his right, suppressing his rapid breath as best as he could.

"Okina."

Okina didn't reply. Instead, he stood up and said, "So you're awake. You'd best come down and eat breakfast. You're train leaves in a couple of hours." He turned around and left.

Aoshi stared at the closed door. Then he looked down at his hands, half-expecting them to be covered with blood. They closed into tight fists.

That dream had happened quite often. Nearly every night since he came home. Maybe he just lucked out at Hiko's. Maybe not. They stopped since the trip back down the mountain . . . but now . . .

Aoshi shook his head. He got up and folded his futon. Then he headed to the . . . food eating place/wherever for breakfast. Omasu smiled upon seeing him. "Hello, sleepyhead."

Misao looked at Omasu in slight confusion. Since when did she talk to Aoshi so casually?"

Omasu smiled back. "Your breakfast's getting cold, Misao."

"Um . . . Okay."

XXXXX

Yeah . . . I'm sorry I took too long.

I admit it (and if I already did it at the top, then I admit it again), I was lazy.

And yes, I know. Aoshi having nightmares isn't really all that original, but I couldn't think of much else.

Anything else? Uh . . . nope.

Oh, yeah, and I'll try to proofread my work more. ::sweatdrop::

So . . . uh . . . please review.