Disclaimer - Rurouni Kenshin and Co. belong to Nobuhiro Watsuki.

Boutique of Memories - Part II

Tick, tick, tick.

The pendulum swung back and forth, giving life to the dead room. A tall male stood by the windows, staring out over the dark city and its neon lights.

'What was it?' he asked himself. 'Two? Three?' He turned to face the ticking clock and its swinging pendulum. Its dark, black stained hands read 'four o'clock'. The male sighed then, walking over to his desk, and falling into the large chair. Its leather ripples conformed to his broad shoulders, his defined back, and his narrow hips and waist.

Aoshi Shinomori, a twenty-six year-old young man, was one of the wealthiest men in Japan. Owning the merged companies of K-O-pro and S-style, he could and had every luxury on the planet, and yet he didn't want nor buy any of them. His wife did.

Kami-sama, his wife. Just the idea sounded ludicrous. But it was true. He was a married man. But he sure wished he wasn't.

He had never imagined getting married. As a child, he had been introverted and aloof, unconnected to the world. And then in his second to last year of grade school, he had met her. "Ocean eyes," he had called her, referring to those big, sea-foam blue eyes of hers. He wanted to lose himself in those eyes, and he pretty much had. How, when, or where, he had fallen underneath her spell. Her grandfather had called her 'a fearie of life'. He whole-heartedly agreed. There was no one like her. No one.

Suddenly, his cellular phone rang. Startled, Aoshi picked the small device and flicked it open.

"Moshi-moshi?" He cursed as his voice came out hoarse and scratchy.

"Ohayo Aoshi." Aoshi relaxed then. It was only Battousai or Himura Kenshin as most people knew him.

"Ohayo."

"The final documents have been signed. They'll be official be the end of the day." A feeling akin to happiness rose in Aoshi's chest at hearing that. He had waited so long. "Congratulations. It's been a long time."

"Aa." It had. Kami-sama, it had.

"I wish I could bring you the papers myself, but Megumi-dono is in the hospital and you know how Sano is." Aoshi chuckled slightly. "So I will have them sent by courier as soon as possible."

"Thank you."

"I'm glad to be of help, Aoshi." Aoshi tried to smile as he murmured a goodbye to the man. Kenshin was not only his lawyer, but one of his closest friends. That man had been on his side when he been married to when he had broke away form his father's orders. Aoshi didn't know what he would have done with out the quiet man's help all these years.

It was raining now, raining like the day his world had come crashing in on him. He had never been really happy. Pain was something he had dealt with as a child when his mother had died.

His father, after his mother's death, had remarried and brought into Aoshi's life a girl, three years younger than him, by the name of Megumi. Yes, they hadn't gotten along at first, Aoshi ignoring the girl, but over the years she had grown on him. Aoshi cared for the girl and had finally given her away to Sagara Sanosuke, a popular radio-dj who liked to sometimes teach self-defense at the Kamiya dojo.

However, Aoshi had not gotten on with his father's new wife. He had snubbed the woman, disliking her for taking his mother's place in his home. But she could never take it in his heart. Aoshi had closed off his heart, creating hard, stone walls around it.

Aoshi picked up his cellular phone then, calling in a random number.

"Yes, I'd like bouquet of pink gladioli to be sent a Sagara Megumi. The card? Just write 'from Onnisan'. Hai. Send the bill to Shinomori. Arigatou." He flipped it close then, ending the transaction. Sometimes, he wondered how life would have been if his mother hadn't died, if his father hadn't remarried, and if he hadn't met her.

Her. Somehow, just that word seemed to ground him. But she. She had been a hurricane when he had first met her. Small and petite with those beautiful, big eyes. He had met when her when his grandfather had sent him to learn to meditate from her grandfather. He was too unstable according to his grandfather. Aoshi smiled a ghost of a smile. His grandfather hadn't known that a hurricane of a girl would be the soothing factor for his grandson.

"Shinomori-sama, I need to sign these papers and look over these packets. Also, a Sagara Sanosuke has called twice, asking for you." Aoshi sighed. It was time for work.

It was late. Quite late. Nearly midnight. Aoshi sighed, getting out of his chair and walking over to the windows. He could see her boutique from here.

Kami-sama, he hadn't been in there since the day his father announced his marriage. The day had crushed him. He was to be married in an effort to save his family's company through a merger. He had hated his father for it.

Giving her up had been the hardest thing ever. He remembered how he had slipped into her room at an ungodly hour of the night. And he had just sat there, watching her quietly as she slept peacefully. Barely touching her as he traced her features, from the crown of her head to the protruding bones of her hips to the soft calluses on her feet. He had kissed her for the last time as the sun's rays seeped through the curtains.

Alright. He lied. He had entered the store once after. But only once. He had come in on impulse, but hid into the shadows when his eyes fell on the young man talking to her. The boy was trying to make an impression to get her affections, but wasn't succeeding from what Aoshi could see. The boy then tried to buy her flowers, and her head snapped up.

Aoshi was shocked by the cold, hardness of those beautiful eyes. 'I hate flowers.' Those had been the words she had bitten out coolly.

And he knew why. It was all because of him. All because of him. The guilt of that had kept him away from the boutique since.

But now. Now he was free. Moonlight shined on the packet of papers that sat on Aoshi's desk. And they were signed divorce papers. And now Aoshi wanted to make things right. Walking over to his desk, he opened a drawer and reached in, pulling out a necklace of leather cord and a metal pendant. Her pendant. The silver metal glowed as he stared at the kanji spelling out her name. Misao. He had hope now.

Aoshi turned then, pulling the cord around his neck. He had hope now and he was going to believe in it.

"Hell broke from Pandora's box, but hope was also locked in it."

(A/N): Okay. Here it is. The ending.

I know it isn't much of an ending, but I felt that it just better leaving it open for the readers.

I really do you like it. I tried to make Aoshi not only dark, but also I wanted to show how much he loved Misao. I know the whole him-watching-her-sleep-tracing-her-features sounds a bit stalker-ish, but that was his last time seeing her.

I do have an idea for separate 'epilogue'. If I do get enough requests, I will write it.

Again, a big thank you to Zelainyu for beta-ing this for me.

So please, leave me your comments and suggestions.

Till we meet again, JA!