Buckets of Love
Summary: June, sweating, heat… oooh, Aoshi-sama…!
Author's Note: See the summary? Note the rating.
It was that time of year again.
Yay.
Her enthusiasm was dampened, quite literally, with irritation because her shirt was sticking to her back. Typically, she loved the summertime, she could frolic and play, but as the years wore on she felt herself wearing a bit.
Granted, she wasn't old. She had barely crested twenty, but she felt kind of old. She wasn't married, Kaoru was, and Megumi, she'd heard, was thinking of marriage. It was a bit depressing, but she tried not to dwell. It was the kind of feeling that stemmed from the progress of others.
She felt rather like she was being left behind.
Soon, she'd not be able to relate to them as peers anymore, maybe even that stage had already passed. Maybe they weren't peers anymore.
The Aoiya was quiet. She was alone and sweating and bored. The others would return soon. They had gone out to town or somewhere. She'd been too disheartened to listen and now she was stuck alone.
In actuality, they'd forced her to stay behind because she was "sick". She had a little sniffle, it happened every so often. She wasn't contagious and she most certainly wasn't going to die if she was exposed to sunlight and fun and playful cavorting in the river.
They just wanted to leave her home, she thought with a pout. Maybe her outrageous behavior the last time had embarrassed them; they had been upset with her after they returned, but that seemed like so long ago.
She conjured up and held onto her anger; otherwise she'd drive herself crazy. The boredom had her clicking her nails against the table and the sound was annoying her.
She sniffed.
A runny nose in the summer time was bad enough. She got to have a runny nose and sneezing and coughing all by herself while she knew everyone else was out having fun. She didn't even have company in her would-be misery.
She growled lowly, wanting to slam her fists against the table in frustration.
Behind her, there was a rustle and a sound that could only be described as a "step", an audible footstep. She whipped her head around and a sharp twinge slit up her neck, heat and pain. Her hand instinctively rose, slapping against her flesh as she winced. She'd moved way too fast and made a mental note to be more careful. She hadn't been very active lately and was feeling more than a bit out of sorts.
The figure in the doorway, however, was completely unexpected. She had thought he'd gone out to the Temple.
"I thought you left?" he asked, clearly as perplexed as she. Both, apparently, had expected to be alone.
Why no, Aoshi-sama, I am still here! She thought bitterly. She bit her lip uncomfortably. It was no use to be angry with him, it wasn't his fault.
"They wouldn't let me go," she murmured and looked away feeling ashamed at her snappish comment, even if she hadn't said it aloud.
She heard him enter the room despite his quiet steps and he came around to peer down at her. She found herself glancing at his bare feet.
My, he had big feet… why hadn't she noticed that before?
"Why wouldn't they let you go?"
They were long feet, kind of skinny even.
She crossed her arms and looked away from his feet. "They said I'm sick and I need rest."
There was no mistaking the bitterness in that statement. She wanted to kick the table and watch it skid across the floor and strike the opposite wall. Maybe she'd break something. Yes, better to set a vase atop the table and then kick it. It might break.
She wanted petty revenge!
Her fantasies of payback evaporated abruptly when he knelt down beside her.
"You're ill?" he seemed surprised.
"No, I'm not ill. I caught a little cold. It's practically gone away and they still wouldn't let me go. Some stupid crap about watching the Aoiya… because one day it's going to get up and run away, you know!"
His lips quirked softly. "I'm sure they're just worried about you."
She scoffed. "They are not! They just want to hog all the fun to themselves!"
He stood once more, towering over her slight figure on the floor. "Where did they go? What are they doing today?"
"Shopping and buying treats and toys and shoving people into rivers. All the fun stuff I would be doing," she whined. "Really, wouldn't you want to?"
She looked up at him imploringly and he frowned slightly. Of course he wouldn't want to; she doubted Aoshi had ever had fun doing anything. That was a shame too, he could probably use it.
She'd come to the maddeningly disheartening conclusion that he hadn't had any fun since Hannya and the others died and he'd probably resigned himself to never doing so again. Although, she couldn't say what his version of fun would be, something that would likely bore her.
She ended up looking away while she got lost in her angry brewing. No fun for you, Misao-chan…
Misao-chan, indeed, she thought miserably. Maybe they all need a really good-
Aoshi moved away from the table, somewhere off behind her. Silently, he left her.
She wanted to think, good riddance, but she couldn't bring herself to wish him gone. He wasn't the cause of her immediate problems even though she'd have bet her lunch he'd have left her behind just as the others did. Although, at least with him she'd know it was real concern and not something petty.
She sighed despondently and laid her head down on the table.
Aoshi found himself at a bit of a loss. Misao's cold was obviously close to gone and he saw no reason why she should've been left to guard the Aoiya. They had had a few minor burglary attempts, but that was no cause to leave Misao behind. She was the youngest of the group and the most likely to find enjoyment out on the town.
He made a note to have a good chat with Okina when he returned. This behavior was not welcome and he would not be a party of it in any form, even if that form took on something so slight as tolerance to it.
Indeed not.
He had always been of the mind that Misao was a force of life and being so, she deserved the best of it. In doing so she brought said life to other people. She was a cackling flame touching and catching to other, older, burned torches leaving a wake of fire behind her.
The thought pleased him immensely.
Seeing her so distraught over having to spend her day alone and indoors woke something within him he'd thought long gone. A part of him he'd thought had died, something that had bled away in the dark forests where he'd perfected his master sword technique.
It wasn't the spark of love or lust; it was far simpler and far more innocent.
It was the pleasant joy of mischief.
He had never been one for games or participating in them. One might say he tolerated them at his best moments, ignored them normally, and terminated them at his worst.
He was not a man of games.
He was not a man of jokes.
He was not a man of smiles.
Misao, however, was all of them, and to see her perform stirred him inside. It left him light and pleased and he wouldn't argue his conscience over innocent feelings for the girl.
He had long settled himself to the decision that whatever feelings Misao rose in him, she owned.
It was a secret pleasure he took, allowing himself to belong to another person. He'd never breathe a word of it to her, save his last breaths, but it gave him a path to follow, she showed him the light of absolution. It gave him a place to live and a family, it gave him everything he had and without her, there was nothing.
Outside of her, everything he had fell apart.
It was a combination of those things, tightly wound and jumbled together, that led him to grab something she couldn't see and head out the door. Misao couldn't leave the Aoiya while charged with the official duty of guarding it and even hating it, she would obey.
He, however, could and he could not bear to see her unwittingly suffer.
He smirked softly.
He would bring her fun to her.
One vase was clearly not enough.
No.
This called for drastic action! She would… what would she do to break up her boredom?
"I guess I could read. Do we have any good books?"
Lost in her brainstorming, she didn't hear Aoshi enter the room behind her.
She didn't see him stop, listening to her babble.
She didn't see him quirk an eyebrow at her serious pondering of the wall.
He stepped forward silently and she was none the wiser as he lifted his bucket higher.
"Oh! I can, no… No, no, no! I am NOT dusting to alleviate my boredom."
His lips quirked and he tipped the bucket. Ice cold river water poured over the edge and down upon her unsuspecting head. He poured it all.
A blood curdling, hair raising scream filled the Aoiya. Vaguely, he wondered if the neighbors would call the police. Absenter yet, he wondered what sound she'd make if anyone ever dared to inflict the kind of pain that scream seemed to indicate. He sincerely hoped he never found out.
She gasped brokenly, half soaked, trembling. Water dripped from her hair, her face, her clothes…
She breathed, deep and quick before whipping around, but did so far too quickly… the shiny clean floor was wet and she slipped and toppled at his feet. He still held the bucket.
She gaped up at him in horror, in cold-but thrilling shock. She was sprawled in a puddle, her clothes soaking up whatever remaining water they could hold. Her bright eyes were wide, but splendidly lit with color, with life.
"Aoshi-sama…" she murmured weakly.
Everything and anything was worth that moment, that expression upon her face.
Her eyes flickered over him quickly, taking him in from head to toe. Her eyes seemed to want to absorb every detail of what was his normal, everyday attire. She gaped at him as though searching for the tell-tale clue that would convince her that he was some nasty imposter.
She rose to her feet slowly and he concluded she'd found no such evidence upon his person.
"Are you certain, then, Misao…" he began, his voice a silken caress. "… that there is no fun to be had within the Aoiya?"
She stared at him several long moments longer as though faced with the world's most confusing puzzle. He knew his words and actions had to be buzzing around her brain while she attempted to make sense of them.
What conclusion would she come to?
"A-Aoshi-sama…" she murmured weakly. "Um… you realize, of course…" she started before trailing off feebly as though trying to gather herself.
He wasn't fooled, he could see she'd come to a decision. The faint tone of her voice, the hesitance in her stance, no… no, he wouldn't be tricked. He waited in anticipation.
She turned her gaze up to him boldly, proudly and a fire lit bright in his chest at her expression. "I'm… You… Soaked. I demand revenge!"
Her voice was soft but playful. Her anger had been doused and lay somewhere in the remains of the puddle at her feet. Emotions swam in her eyes, free and open and his heart swelled. Her love for him poured off her body in waves and his body seemed to absorb it.
Wantonly.
Greedily.
It was more than what Misao did for others. It was what she did for him that mattered most. It was the torch inside himself, that without her, would've stayed dead and crumbled.
"Revenge?" the tone was gentle, but slightly challenging and slightly mocking. It was one of the best that Misao responded to. He turned away. "Come, then. Let's see what revenge you can heap upon me, girl."
He hadn't called her girl since he'd last trained with her, ages and ages ago. He heard her growl lowly behind him as he stepped out of the room retreating slowly. He didn't even look back.
She waited. She tapped her foot, she wrung her hands together, and then she darted after him with a shout and laugh.
"You aren't getting away, Aoshi-sama! Prepare to meet your doom!" she shouted dramatically.
Hours later, when Okina returned expecting to find a petulant Misao, he instead found a quiet house.
A neat quiet house.
There was no sign of wreckage anywhere.
He peered about before wandering toward the back veranda. Just to the left of the doorway, he caught sight of Aoshi, the tall man was seated, his back against the wall. Misao was sprawled in his lap, her head against his chest, her hand high upon his thigh. Their clothes were wet to the point of clinging.
"My, my," Okina grinned. "What an afternoon you two must have had."
Misao didn't so much as shift, but Aoshi's eyes flickered open and Okina's grin faded quickly.
"I had intended to express my displeasure over your leaving her here," Aoshi began. The younger man brought his hand up to cup the girls cheek and she moaned softly and shifted in her slumber. "I have reconsidered. Thank you for leaving her behind."
Okina's grin broke free and transformed into a smile. With a light step, he made his way back inside.
Summer was wonderful!
AN: That was weak. See you all around soon.