Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or canon plot from Rurouni Kenshin! However, all plot ideas and characters that are owned by me belong…to…me. Hmm. Redundancy Department of Redundancy speaking!
A/N: This may be the first time that a lot of you have become aware of this whole re-organizing of this fic. Check out my bio for details. And if it isn't too annoying for you, please read the new version of this fic so that you don't get confused about the new sequence of events! That goes for chapter one, too! At least read the last scene of it before you continue on.
This chapter is still dedicated to ShadowAoi. I miss you, girl.
Also, I know this chapter title seems very overbearing, but it actually makes a lot of sense, if you think about it.
Tanoshimu!
Chapter 2
Misao: Prelude to Tears
-
Kenshin assembled all his ingredients carefully on the counter. He had volunteered to make dinner, even though he had made them all lunch earlier. Bottles of salt and soy sauce clanked together as set them all down. He reached for a knife to gut the catfish, but couldn't find it anywhere. His eyes swept the room carefully.
"Oro!" he cried, spotting Makkou with the knife between his paws, staring perplexedly at the shiny surface. Kenshin snatched up the knife. "That is not good, that it isn't!" he exclaimed. "Dogs aren't supposed to have knives!"
Makkou let out a low whine and got to his feet. Kenshin inspected the knife. There was no blood on it, which meant Makkou hadn't cut himself. Kenshin sighed. That was good. Who knew what would have happened if he hadn't spotted Makkou in—
He jumped in surprise. "No!" Makkou had moved from knives to catfish and was chewing on the dinner Kenshin was supposed to prepare. Kenshin dashed for the fish, but it was too late. The rubbery skin was already torn to shreds by Makkou's claws and teeth. "Having a dog is much more trouble than it should be," he muttered. He picked up the destroyed catfish and threw it away. Makkou barked in annoyance and went to fish it out, while Kenshin just sighed.
He picked up the wooden tofu bucket and left the kitchen, making sure Makkou was right behind him with the catfish slung in his jaw.
"Naruku-dono," Kenshin called, walking outside. "Can you go get us something for dinner?" He peaked around the bend and found no familiar swirl of brick red hair. "Makkou already ate the—" he stopped dead in his tracks and dropped the tofu bin as his eyes fell on a petite dark-haired girl. Could it be?
The ebony haired girl raised a timid hand to her hair, tucking a strand of it behind. Her face was dusty and lighter streaks indicated she had been crying. Her turquoise eyes were large and puffy. She looked frailer than she should have, more delicate than when Kenshin had last seen her. Maybe that was from the absence of the look of daggers or cheery bright smile she usually had on. But there was no mistaking it. Even with that forlorn expression, it was still the same girl.
"Himura?" She spoke, her voice raspy and chipped like she hadn't spoken in days.
"…Misao-dono," he said softly.
She nodded her head. "It's a good thing you still remember me." Before she could say anything more to the red-haired swordsman, a different pair of arms engulfed her. She stumbled under the excess weight.
"Misao-chan!" Naruku cried into the younger girl's ear as she embraced her.
Misao returned the embrace fervently. "It's good to see you again," she whispered. "All of you." The two girls broke apart, and it was then Naruku noticed the faint traces of tears on Misao's cheeks. She could tell the younger girl had been partially broken within the last few months that Naruku had not seen her.
"Yes," Naruku said quietly after she was done surveying her friend. "It has been long."
"Please join us for dinner," Kenshin spoke up. "We have much to discuss Misao-dono."
-
It was twenty minutes later and Kaoru, Misao, Yahiko and Sano were gathered around the table while Kenshin finished up in the kitchen. The four Tokyo locals could sense that something was wrong, but they didn't say anything. Misao sat in the traditional way, her hands clutched tightly onto the folds of her clothing.
Kenshin emerged from the kitchen, carrying several dishes of food to serve. He shot looks all around the table, wondering why it had suddenly become very quiet.
Fresh from her bath, Naruku entered the room just after Kenshin. She was grinning, despite the solemn mood of the room.
"Good evening everyone," she said placidly, taking her place among them. "Itadakimasu," she said as she sat down. "It's been so long since we've had a guest, ne?"
Kaoru nodded, serving food onto her plate after muttering her own 'itadakimasu.'
"Well, Misao-chan," Naruku spoke up, spraying a few rice grains from her mouth by accident. "I can see you may not be ready to tell us anything, but we will listen to anything you want to say."
It was the way she said it that made Misao look up. And in her eyes was a look of deep gratitude and behind that, shadows of anguish.
Around the table everyone had stopped, even Sano and Yahiko. They waited silently on edge for Misao to respond.
The young ninja bit her lip, but kept her eyes steady ahead of her. She wanted to tell them. She knew that she did. That was the reason she had come to the dojo. Even in her distressed she had known that they would help her.
But there was also a part of Misao that simply felt too sad to say anything. If she explained it all to them, she would just be reliving that painful part of her recent life. She had always been about forgetting her pains, burying them somewhere and getting on with life.
The truth was, she needed him. She needed Soujiro. But she could never look at him again. They had been so close, so close under the plum blossom tree. But then they had been torn apart savagely by one moment.
"It was four days after Kaoru had fallen ill in Kyoto and the afternoon after your departure when I decided to set off," Misao began without preamble. She knew if she gave them a chance to interrupt her, or if she allowed one moment of hesitation, her tale would never be told. For Misao, the only way to get it all out was to push on.
"Initially I wasn't looking for Soujiro, or at least I didn't think I was, but I found myself headed in directions that only he would have gone. However, the first person I encountered wasn't Soujiro…" and with those first few sentences, Misao had all eyes glues onto her as she talked and talked, words spilling out of her mouth to release the pain she had held inside for too long now.
Misao adjusted the strap on her bag as her boots crunched along the icy path. Leaving her friends at the Aoiya had been painful, but now she felt somewhat refreshed as she bounced alongside the winter scenery. It was just like old times, when she used to search for Aoshi whenever she had word of him. This time Misao was sure the object of her energy was not going to get away.
Even as Soujiro had said goodbye that evening in Kyoto, Misao knew she would never be far off from him. She couldn't have let him go, no matter how much she told herself he needed it. Well she wasn't about to let the one person who loved her scamper off like that. He wasn't getting off easy.
"Hm…" Misao mused. "I haven't seen that stupid mutt lately. Not since this morning and it's well into the afternoon now. Where could he have gone?"
She looked around as if she expected Makkou to have been silently stalking her in the shadows for the past few hours. Misao doubted whether the dog could stay silent for more than a few seconds.
"If I don't find it, Naru is going to have it in for me," Misao groaned. As much as she liked to deny it, Naruku had it bad for Makkou. She fell for that dog almost as bad as she had fallen for Kenshin…or so Misao thought. In fact, Naruku had not given any indication of her more sensual emotions to anyone since—well, never, really. There were some occasions, when they were all being reunited for some reason or another, that Naruku seemed to show a special sort of affection toward the Rurouni, but it was very hard to tell what that actually meant.
"Sheesh…it's worse than Aoshi-sama, really," she sighed, brushing over that tender topic. Was she fine with the fact that he had never harbored a stronger emotion for her than some sort of nurturing fondness? By rights, she should have been delighted with the situation, but Misao never really liked to lie to herself.
And Soujiro loved her.
And…so did Makkou. Makkou loved everyone, especially people who fed him. Where was that dog? She glanced around until a distinct pang of déjà vu hit her and she nearly smacked herself.
"Makkou!" she cried, skipping over the road. "Makkou-chan!" She jumped over a few stalks of particularly tall grass, heading into the woods where the trees were more densely spread. One of her eyes instinctively closed as she wrestled her way through odd branches and vines, not to mention the unearthly long grass. She marched through a cluster of thick-trunk trees. "Come on you stupid dog! If you come right now I'll catch a squirrel just for you! I guess…" she stopped and became alert when she heard the short, yelping barks. "Makkou!"
She quickened her pace, dashing over roots and through leaves, following the source of the canine-sounding noise. As she drew closer, human voices accompanied the original sound. They sounded like kids, older than Yahiko but younger than Misao herself, and they were laughing and jeering at…something. Misao's face settled into a hard look of determination as she rushed forward toward them. She stopped suddenly in her tracks when a new voice rang deep in her ears.
"Hey—hey…stop that!"
The kids cackled. "You wanna get beat up too, old man?"
There were a few muffled thumps and then—the breaking of glass. Misao surged through an opening between two trees and landed in the middle of a clearing. She immediately spotted Makkou quivering in a ball, a burly man kneeling in front of him and a group of five or six kids in front of him, one of them brandishing a freshly broken bottle.
"Hey kids—get out of here!" Misao roared. "What did my dog ever do to you?"
The boys seemed to be put off by Misao's sudden appearance. "Your dog?"
Misao didn't bother with an answer. Instead she sent a kick straight into the broken bottle kid's head. He staggered and dropped the bottle, clutching the side of his forehead which now sported a lovely new bruise. Behind him, his friends gaped in awe at Misao. They backed up and eventually turned tail and ran.
"That's right!" Misao bellowed after them. "And don't do something stupid like that again! Sheesh…kids these days. They do the stupidest things…" Sighing, she turned back to Makkou and finally took notice of the man crouched in front of her dog.
"Eh?" Misao uttered with a bemused look.
The man stared with a similar expression back at her. He was stout and burly, his limbs thick rather than being fat or muscled. Misao took quick note of the bruises he had and the black eye his face seemed intent on forming. He blinked.
Misao smiled and jumped forward, extending her hand to him. "Hi! I'm Makimachi Misao. Sorry for the trouble with my dog…ano…he's not really mine, just a friend's, but he followed me from Kyoto so now I gotta take care of him!" she chuckled sheepishly.
The man took her hand hesitantly, looking as though he had caught only half of her quick-paced words. "It…wasn't any trouble. I just hate to see anyone attacked like that." His words were slow as if he weren't sure that he was saying the right thing.
"Aha…" Misao didn't really know how to respond. "What's your name?"
"Oh," he said in a low tone. He gave her a smile, which revealed a mouthful of yellowish teeth. "It's Senbei."
"Eh?" Misao gave him a baffled look. "Your name is Senbei?"
"Yes," he replied cluelessly.
Misao blinked and looked as though she were about to elaborate. Instead she exclaimed, "Oh, never mind! So, Senbei-san, what brings you to the middle of the woods on a day like this?"
Senbei quieted almost immediately. "Uh…Misao-chan? Can I tell you a secret? You have to promise not to tell…" he looked conflicted, so Misao flashed a smile.
"Sure," she said cheerfully. When he beckoned her closer she leaned so her ear was next to his mouth.
"I…ran away from home," he whispered.
It was all Misao could do not to fall over in surprise. Ran away from home? That sounded like something a thirteen-year-old kid would do. "Senbei-san, how old are you?"
"Huh?" he looked confused. "Um…um, I'm…I'm…Misao-chan, what comes after thirty-seven?"
Misao blinked. "Thirty-eight?" she suggested.
"Right. I'm thirty-eight. I was thirty-eight last month."
"I…see," Misao replied. It dawned on her that Senbei might not have been the sharpest kunai in the pouch. "Well, why don't you travel with me? Makkou seems to like you."
While Makkou was never picky with people he seemed to take a special liking to Senbei. He pawed at Senbei knee and licked his hand in friendliness. Senbei laughed, a sound that was uncharacteristically deep and rumbling. "It tickles."
With a name like 'senbei,' it was no wonder Makkou liked him so much. The three of them set off just as Misao finished treating all of Makkou's and Senbei's wounds.
"I think I'm going to like your company, Senbei-san," Misao said as they marched along. "I've been traveling alone for nearly two weeks!"
"What about Makkou?" Senbei asked in good nature as the aforementioned dog lapped at his rough hand.
"He hardly counts," Misao muttered. She turned her eyes away as Senbei scratched Makkou's head reassuringly.
"Misao-chan?" Senbei spoke after a few minutes of silent travel.
"Hai?" Misao replied easily.
"Where are we going?"
Misao knew then that she had been right to take Senbei along with her. He was too trusting. She had to make sure his trust was in the right hands. "Somewhere near Tokyo, I think."
He didn't ask why, though Misao could have answered, just continued to follow her. He didn't even ask why she was traveling in the first place. Misao gave a little smile. Senbei really did need someone.
-
Night fell quickly, and before it was even suppertime, it was dark. Misao lay on her stomach, propping her face up with her elbows to the crackling flames. Senbei had been very equipped to gather firewood, which made things easier on Misao, who has just caught a pit-viper with a single kunai, something she was all too ready to brag about later. Only Makkou had minded her boastfulness.
"Misao-chan?" Senbei questioned after their dinner of snake and anpan.
Misao was busy licking her fingers clean of crispy snakeskin.
"How old are you?"
She looked up at him. "Well, I guess I'm nearly eighteen now," she told him. She blinked, rather surprised at how old she gotten. "Wow. It's really been ten years since I was eight."
"What happened when you were eight, Misao-chan?" Senbei asked curiously.
Misao drew herself to a sitting position. "That was when the person that I looked up to abandoned me. He and his friends had always taken care of me, but one day he suddenly left," she said softly. "I was too young to understand what had happened. I just wanted them back, the only people who cared for me," she looked down wistfully.
Senbei's expression was concern mixed with awe. "I…look up to you, Misao-chan," he told her quietly.
"You…you do?" she asked, on the verge of tears.
He nodded. "You were the first person to care what happened to me. I lived with my aunt until she yelled at me and I ran away. She only kept me to store the barrels of rice she sold to merchants," he told Misao dolefully.
Misao hurriedly wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "Then you were right to get out of there. No one wants to live where they aren't cared for. I…actually wouldn't know about that. I know a lot of people who do care about me. The only reason I left them was because I…needed some answers, I guess. There was this other boy…well, I guess he's really quite a bit older than me…but he left after telling me he loved me. I didn't think that was very fair, so here I am, looking for him. Why am I telling you this, anyway?" she looked over at Senbei.
"I want to hear it, Misao-chan," he protested. "How did you meet this boy?"
Misao almost laughed through her not quite fallen tears. She told him how Soujiro had worked for Shishio, and how she had met Kenshin who was on his way to fight Shishio. She told him about Shingetsu village and the unfinished duel. She told him her sights had been only on Aoshi, and she hadn't thought twice about Soujiro—or, if she did it was due to the creepy smile he always had. She told him how Kenshin had driven Soujiro to question himself, and the younger man had ended up walking the same path Kenshin had, to find his own truth. And she told him about meeting up with Soujiro as he walked this path as she returned to Kyoto to fight yet another villain.
It felt good to get the story out. Misao had never talked that much before. And for someone who came off so dim-witted, Senbei actually had quite a few observations to make when she was done talking. "Himura-san sounds like a good man," he told her. "But he seems sad. Does he have anyone who cares for him?"
Misao tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I think he does…but you didn't hear it from me."
"Oh, all right," he told her seriously, and it took all of Misao's willpower not to burst out in laughter. "But Seta-san seems sad too, even though you said he was smiley all the time."
"Yeah," Misao shivered as a gust of wind blew past her. "I guess he was a little sad." She closed her eyes gently. "I'm really tired, Senbei. Let's go to sleep, and will continue on to Tokyo in the morning."
After all, that was where Soujiro had killed Okubo, and Misao would've jumped off a cliff if she believed he didn't feel regret about that. Shishio had ordered Soujiro to do things that only later would he recognize that he didn't really want to do them in the first place. Killing wasn't something he had wanted to do. It was simply survival, on his part. Misao was willing to believe he saw differently at that time, and that he had changed over the years that Shishio had been dead. She wouldn't be looking for him if he hadn't. Misao didn't care that her endeavor was selfish. She had never cared much about that. Why should she sacrifice what she wanted for what Soujiro reluctantly accepted as what he wanted?
Misao replayed the part when Soujiro left again and again. Was there something she could've done to make him stay? The answer, Misao thought, was no. At that particular time, there was nothing she could've done. If it happened again right then, she was sure Soujiro would have stayed with her.
She wondered if he thought about her as much as she thought about him. A secret part of her mind whispered and giggled, knowing that Misao hoped he did think about her.
-
Misao yawned and stretched her arms up to the morning sun. After sharing a quick lunch of dried fish, she and Senbei were traveling the Tokkaido trail once again. She felt in the tips of her toes that today was going to be a good day.
This was proven a little while into the afternoon when their path led them by a village. Misao ran her fingers across her sack of money, thinking she couldn't bear not to have a restaurant lunch. Earlier, she had figured on eating frog again, but now that they were in this village, Misao could think of nothing else but freshly prepared beef hotpot, just like they served at the Shirobeko. Her mouth was practically watering at the thought.
Meanwhile, Senbei was being entertained by the colorful flowers that young vendors were selling. He goggled at the vibrant hues and funny shapes of the petals.
Misao glanced over at him. "Hey Senbei, I was thinking…I'm getting pretty tired, I think we should stay in this village the rest of the day, and continue on tomorrow morning. It's been a while since I slept indoors."
"If that's what you want, Misao-chan," he replied placidly, his eyes going back to the flowers.
Misao smiled and reached for her money. She handed out two of the thick, tarnished coins and in return received a small bundle of flowers. "Here," she handed the colored plants to Senbei. "But that means we have to ear breakfast on the road."
Senbei stared at her in admiration and took the flowers gingerly. "No one's ever given me anything before, Misao-chan."
Misao beamed. "It's not a problem. I can see how much you like these. Now lets go find a place for lunch."
Senbei waved to the pretty young flower vendor and followed Misao as loyally as Makkou was doing.
Misao's eyes darted through the thin crowd that formed as they got deeper into town. She scanned the surrounding buildings for restaurants, but had little luck, at least in looking for a decent place.
"Misao-chan?" Senbei attempted to get her attention.
Misao was busy navigating through the crowd.
"Misao-chan!" He poked her in the arm and she looked up.
"Huh? What?"
He motioned over to a stall that was selling shish kabobs, the most wonderful smell wafting over from it. "Why don't we eat that?" Senbei asked. He looked over to Misao who was staring intently at the stall. "Misao?"
She pursed her lips, her eyes staring unblinkingly at the man who was selling a kabob to a younger man with brownish-black hair.
Senbei glanced at Makkou, who seemed twice as confused (and three times as hungry) as him. Makkou barked, but Misao didn't even flinch.
"Misao!"
This time she looked up, but her eyes seemed unfocused. "Listen, you take Makkou over to that inn and find us a room. I will buy some shish kabob and take it over to the inn so we can eat in our room," she plunked the small bag of cash into Senbei's large hands, taking a few coins in her own with which to buy food.
"Hai, Misao-chan, I'll wait for you there."
Before he could move, Misao took off, racing over to the street vendor selling shish kabob. The young buyer was still there, laughing and chatting with the old man behind the stall. In her hurry to get to the vendor, she plowed into the young man.
"Kyaa!" she cried, toppling over. The two of them fell in a heap. The vendor peeked over his stall at them.
Misao disentangled herself and sat up, rubbing her throbbing head. "Itai…"
The boy she had collided with sat staring at her in shock. "Mm…Misao?"
Misao opened her eyes. "It is you." She moved forward and threw her arms around him, toppling back down with him beneath her. Her eyes were squeezed shut, stopping the flow of tears. "Soujiro!"
He was too surprised to do anything but say her name a second time as her cheek pressed softly against his chest. "Misao—wait—Misao!" He pushed her off of him.
She opened her eyes and they glistened with tears. Was Soujiro…mad?
"What are you doing here?" It was purely a question of curiosity and surprise, no accusatory tones.
"Looking for you, actually," she said in the most casual voice she could muster. She didn't let it show how much Soujiro's actions hurt. It really didn't matter. She had found him, after two weeks. Thinking of this, she began to cry again, wet salty tears streaming down her cheeks.
Soujiro scooted forward and brought her into another embrace, patting her back consolingly. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "There are times when I wish I never left you."
That made Misao smile in spite of her tears. "Soujiro…remember how you were afraid I would fall in love and start a family?"
"Hai," Soujiro replied, his heart sinking the slightest bit.
"Well, I haven't started a family, but I fell in love."
"…Oh," Soujiro's hold on her loosened.
She laughed. "He's really great, this guy of mine. Usually he's pretty secretive about what he feels, but I've gotten him to open up to me before. For a while I just liked the fact that he loved me, but now I realize it's him I want. Only, he's done some really stupid stuff that I'm not sure I'm quite ready to forgive him for."
"Like…what?" Soujiro asked, moving away from Misao slightly.
She locked eyes with him, an intense ferocity held in her turquoise orbs. "Like leaving me and deciding he was better off wandering alone."
Soujiro almost smiled, his arms tightening around Misao again. "I almost wish I hadn't found you, because I won't be able to leave you again."
"Where are we going next?" Misao asked.
"What do you mean?" Soujiro asked, perplexed.
"Soujiro…I want to be with you. No one is going to keep me from that. Not even you," she gave a bright smile and stood up, watching as Soujiro did the same. "Feeling sorry that you ever met me?"
"Not in the least," Soujiro smiled. "I guess we're off to the Tokyo government syndicate."
"Because of Okubo?" Misao couldn't help asking.
"Hai."
"Soujiro? Where are we right now?" she asked as the two of them began their way on the Tokkaido road.
"Shizuoka," he answered cheerfully.
"What? We're so close to the beach?"
Soujiro nodded happily.
"Hey, Soujiro, this is near where I first met Kenshin," Misao chattered. "And you know, if I never met Kenshin I would've never met you, either. Talk about luck of the draw, really…" she trailed off as Soujiro stepped toward her and arranged a flower in her hair. He stepped back and smiled at her.
"Ano…thank you, I guess," she said, taken aback by his weird actions. They set off again, sandals scraping along the path to the place where they had met for the first time as friends.
A/N: Much of this chapter was the same as pre 04-02-05, so skimming is definitely accepted. Reviews that are sent after 04-02-05 will be answered!
