Okay, maybe the title is a bit lame and this thing seems to be ending up with Sou/Misao and you think: hey! Where are Kaoru and Kenshin? I read this story because of them! Not Sou/Misao love story with Aoshi cutting and jutting in like that. Well, sorry readers. You guys wanted longer stories and this is just part of the plot.
After I've finished the Sou/Misao chaps, then I'll go to Tsubame and all that. Well the next one or two chapters are all Misao and Soujiro okay? So bear with me people! Oh yeah, thank you to dark-luv-dove. Your name is funky! Shishio in this story is going to be like when he was in the Samurai time. Meaning: that he isn't burnt and all. Therefore saying that he his still as handsome as he was fighting, as he is now okay?
And I can't tell the difference between Okon and Omasu! Help me people! Some body has to tell me!" And on with the story people . . .
Soujiro sat in an upright position cross-legged. " Breathe in and out Soujiro, calm your feelings. Meditation is to clear your thoughts," Shishio said coolly. The young man had been sitting there in that position for close to an hour already. His breathing was not ragged, as it was when he first came in. Shishio poured himself a cup of tea from a clay kettle. It was to cool his internal systems. He was lucky that he had not been in the fire. He had escaped. Yumi prayed to the gods for his safe return, and indeed he came back unscathed. And then he was landed with Tenken.
Soujiro Seta: the Tenken of the new revolution. And an hour before, he had come home wet from the pouring rain and bedraggled. Even though his hair matted with rain and drenched to the skin, Shishio could feel his ki in the air around him. "Misao- ac . . . dent. Misao's in the hospital. Accident! She could have . . . have died," The boy's words faltered and he crumbled to the floor.
Yumi rushed to the boy's aid and helped him up. Getting a clean towel, she wiped the boy down and shooed him to get into dry clothes. Once out of hearing distance, Yumi whispered, " What do we do know?" Shishio shook his head and smoked his pipe. " There's nothing to say to him, it won't help," He answered sadly. A few minutes later, Shishio heard thumps from below and a muffled shout. " He's trying to drown his sorrows with his sword, I'll go help him." Shishio got up and left. Yumi cradled her head and her hands. The boy would never live without the expression of feelings.
And that was how Shishio found the boy. Yelling and shouting, Soujiro was training once again. The sword twirled, the boy disappeared fro a moment and appeared on the other side of the room. No wonder all the clubs wanted him. He was good, no; he was the best. Shishio clapped his hands, catching the boy surprised in mid air. He fell to the floor on his feet gracefully. "Uncle, you surprised me," Soujiro smiled and said humbly. Shishio took out the wooden sword from his hands and laid it on the floor, " I'm going to teach you something new. Sit down." Shishio ordered. Soujiro followed obediently. " The art of Meditation, my boy, meditate and feel at peace."
"Father! Are you sure of this?" The tall teenager said, apparently shocked, " I mean, yes, I know Father . . . But what about her? And did you hear about . . . I understand Father, okay. Excuse me? FATHER! There is no way I can! I've just finished two papers! I have a few more to go and when is it? My exams? When does it end? Oh, the papers should be back by the end of the month . . . I understand it's going to be forever. I know. "Going soon, how soon? In one and a half month's time? But . . . okay, I get you. Goodbye father."
The teenager placed the phone down and picked it up a few moments later and dialled I number. " Hello? May I speak with Yuri Chidori please? This is Aoshi . . ."
" Hello Aoshi . . . missed me?" Chidori asked sweetly.
" Not really, but I have something to tell you. My father said that-" Aoshi started.
"Now tell me Soujiro, what's on your mind?" Shishio asked kindly.
" It's Misao. She got hurt and she was in an accident and she-" Soujiro started.
" Calm down, Soujiro."
" Right, It's Misao. She hurt herself in an accident and she's in hospital now and . . ."
"And?"
"May I go and see her?"
"Go Soujiro, and be safe," Shishio sighed resignedly.
" Thank you Uncle." Soujiro gave a quick bow and rushed out of the room, almost bumping into Yumi who was about to walk in.
" All that meditation because?" Yumi asked.
" He's scared for the girl, anxious as they say. Anxiety has broken through the first defence, Yumi. Even though I had hoped that the Tenken would not leak emotions to the opponent, he's outdoing it. I feel guilty. It's all my fault." Shishio hung his head low.
"I don't think so. It's more of how afraid he is of himself. He may show it one day though . . ." Yumi left the sentence hanging and retreated out of the room. " The girl just might be able to help him through it though," Yumi added as an after thought as she left.
By that time, Soujiro was already out of the room and heading down towards the car waiting for him to drive him to the hospital.
Sitting in a car while it rained, whoopee, isn't it fun, Soujiro thought. The rain pelted down hard on the sleek looking limousine. " Sir, would you like me to wait or would you rather call me after your visit?" The chauffeur asked Soujiro courteously.
"It's all right, I'll call you." Soujiro said, thoroughly bored with the never changing scenery outside. "All right sir, here is an umbrella in case you get wet," the chauffeur handed it to the lithe boy and stopped him outside Tokyo General Hospital.
" Good evening, do you think I could see Makimachi Misao, she came in this afternoon at about 3 or 4 and it was a car accident," Soujiro asked the nurse in a starch white uniform behind the information counter.
"Right dearie. But, she isn't well now and only relatives, spouses, boy or girlfriends are allowed in the ICU Unit. Sorry." The nurse said sweetly.
"I'm her, her . . ." Soujiro tugged at his sleeve, " I'm Makimachi-san's boyfriend." The nurse nodded and pointed at a door to her right. Soujiro thanked her and walked in.
The cool dim light enveloped Soujiro once he had entered. The cool breeze blew in from an open window and somewhere else, a television set was blaring. And there, right at the corner was Makimachi Misao. Her angelic face shone with radiance though she was asleep.
It was 10 in the evening when Misao got up. She saw a dark figure bent over on her bed, the person's dark hair ruffled. Misao stroked it softly and the dark figure sat up, his eyes sparkled with the energy she seldom saw in Aoshi's eyes. " Sou-chan . . ." Misao whispered.
" Sou-chan! I can't believe it! I actually was asked out!" Misao gushed from over the phone. Soujiro had to hold the phone a foot away from his ear, and still, he could hear her scream. " Good for you, Makimachi-san. It's about time too. You were whining because you didn't have a date yet," Soujiro joked. Misao laughed and lay on her couch, hugging a soft toy close to her, " Pity it wasn't Aoshi. It was Suzuri from Art class. He's okay I guess, but he's no Shinomori-san." Soujiro sighed, she was doing it again, "Look, maybe he needs time to see you as yourself, you know what I mean?" Soujiro heard Misao sniff before replying, " You're right, maybe he needs time . . ." The phone line went dead.
" Hi, may I speak with Soujiro please?"
" Hold on Misao."
" Hello Makimachi-san. What's the matter?"
" It's a big problem Sou!"
"And what happened?"
"It's Aoshi. He was asked out and he turned everybody down, and when I asked him he also said no!"
"Give him time Makimachi-san."
"There're no more time already! We're both 15 and I haven't got a date yet!"
"Well, you have been asked out you know."
"But! It's not Aoshi! It's always guys that I'm not interested in."
"You mind is very narrow Makimachi-san. Give the other boys a chance. How many have asked you out this week?"
"About 15 . . ."
"Aah, fifteen, well, they were all turned down. Why?"
"Because I didn't want them."
"And how many were what you girls called "cute"? Especially when other girls are chasing them but they only come after you? And Takeshi-san from Biology has asked you at least ten times this year!"
"Well . . . at least, thank you for the advice."
"No problem."
"See you soon, Sou-chan."
"Yeah, until tomorrow." The phone clicked and the two hung up.
The boy heaved a sigh. When was everything going to come out?
"And, er, what brings you here, Soujiro?" Misao flushed.
"Nothing, nothing at all. I just needed to see how my best friend was doing. That accident was rather bad wasn't it?" Soujiro gave a small smile without his usual happiness.
"Is something bothering you, Sou-chan?" Misao asked anxiously, seeing the look on her best friend's face.
"Nothing, I'm all right. And I just hope that you rest well." Soujiro said with an empty smile.
The chair scraped the linoleum as Soujiro stood up and held out his hand to Misao. "Well wishes I guess Makimachi-san." Misao smiled and pulled Soujiro down into a big hug. "Thank you for saving me, Seta Soujiro." Soujiro gasped, "How did you know it was me?"
" The sixth sense. Do not tell me that you didn't notice that something had happened to me? Invisible strings connect us somehow; tugging on us, our feelings, out hearts . . . I don't even know how it started. You have told me such things have happened. Like the time Aoshi turned me down, you call me just as I was going to pick the phone up. And the other time when you were sick but put on a brave front? I see right through these things. And I would really like to thank you for pulling me out of harm's way once again." Misao said quickly, colouring as she spoke.
The radiance from within shone as Soujiro heard her speak and she bent in low. " And this is my thank you to you," She whispered. Misao's tip of her nose touched his and just a little bit further and then . . .
WHAM! The door flew open and Soujiro pulled back. Okon and Omasu rushed in and fussed over Misao.
"I'll see you later, Misao." Soujiro replied sadly with a wan smile and walked out of the room.
Alone in the crowd, nobody with you . . . One wanted help, one wanted love and the little boy cried, he wanted somebody to protect him. That was how Soujiro felt. The shield that rebounded all curses. The shield that gave warmth and care.
Misao.
"Hello, Mr Wakashimi, it's time to go home," Soujiro said through his cell phone to his chauffeur. The sleek car drove in through the autumn rain as the leaves fell off their branches.
What was she feeling? Being so brave in front of him? And what was she thinking! That was too close a shave. But after he left, she felt the strange emptiness within her as her cousins fussed over her. And that thing she was feeling . . . What was it? She craved for it. Love? Lust? What did she need? She wanted to know. And when did any thought cross her mind that she would end up trying to kiss her best friend? What made her do that?
The thoughts swirled in her mind and her vision went blank. All she could see was a dark, solitary figure standing in the vast crowd. Head down and crouched low, the figure huddled closely as the crowd jostled him and he was tormented by the large mass and swamped. Eventually, he disappeared.
Was that how Soujiro felt? She remembered the 'talk' she had given just a few minutes ago . . . Invisible strings connect us somehow; tugging on us, out feelings, our hearts . . . It almost seemed true.
Maybe it was.
Just somehow. Deep in them; deep in both of their hearts. Pulling them closer to each other as they have never been before.
Hello once again. Haha. Bit of a cliffy isn't it? I mean you don't know what's going to happen. And if you find that some of the sentences a bit loony or weird, it's because the Microsoft Grammar program keeps on saying that I should go and re-do that fragment. Well, heck. I'm churning it out people. So, just be happy. Promise a one soon.
Next Chapter: The Gift