Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki. I may be demented, but I'm not crazy enough to claim RK as my own.

Without Words

5- Silences Broken

Aoshi gave the woman before him a cold hard stare. "What do you want, Yumi?" he spat out.

She crossed the room and stopped two steps away from him. Up close, he could see the pout on her perfectly-painted lips. "Is that any way to greet an old flame?"

"You're Shishio's woman now," he reminded her. They had been in their mid-teens when they met on a reconnaissance assignment for the Juppongatana. It had been a fiery relationship from the start, but Aoshi was too charmed by the older woman to listen to Hannya's warnings about Yumi. When Aoshi learned that she was having an affair with Shishio himself, he had been devastated. After that, he had thrown himself into his work, becoming the Juppongatana's main information specialist in no time at all. But that incident with Yumi had sparked the tension between him and Shishio, a seemingly-innocent rivalry that was fuelled by jealousy and suspicion over the years.

Aoshi had forgotten about Yumi the year after her indiscretion with Shishio. As she stood before him now, he tried to recall the girl he had fallen in love with underneath the hardened woman he saw.

"I came to warn you." Her voice was all business, with just the faintest tinge of concern. "You shouldn't have come back."

"Shishio and I need to talk," he told her simply.

"You came to challenge him?" she asked incredulously. "He wants you dead, Aoshi. Out of the way. Why do you think he let you leave the Juppongatana so easily? You have to be out of your mind to believe that you can have a little chat with him and walk out alive."

"If he wanted me dead, Yumi, he could have done that a long time ago. If he wanted me dead, it would have been Soujirou standing here instead of you." Aoshi shook his head. "He needs me. He needs my research. And until he's gotten what he wants, he'll wait to hear what I have to say."

"You're a fool to believe that you can reason with him. That's not how his mind works, Aoshi," she said with a sigh. "Listen to me. I love Shishio, but that doesn't mean I don't care for you still. He thinks you've forgotten your part of the bargain. He thinks you're keeping all the results to yourself."

Yumi looked at him sadly. "If this is about revenge, then walk away. Forget what happened to Hannya. But more importantly, forget about that last assignment. I know you didn't kill that man. But I know how his death was the reason you left the Juppongatana, that his death has haunted you all these years. Let it go, Aoshi. Give Shishio what he wants and let it go."

She headed for the door. "You've been very careful until now. But maybe you should learn to take care of other people – like that girl from Tokyo you were with tonight. You'll be surprised at how she fits into all this. You don't want her hurt now, do you?"

The door closed behind Yumi with a finality that echoed in Aoshi's ears. Did she mean Misao? But what did the journalist have to do with Shishio and the Juppongatana?

Aoshi walked to the closet where he kept his briefcase. In the dimness of the room, his fingers searched for the tape he had taken from her during their interview. He took it then because he wanted to check if he had inadvertently said something he shouldn't have. But after the first time he played it back, he found himself listening to it night after night after night. In the heavy silence of the evening, there was something about her voice that called to him, that broke through his walls and comforted him. In the briefest of encounters, he felt that he had known a part of her soul, and that was enough.

But somehow she had gotten involved in this mess.

Aoshi fingered the tape in his hands. Then with renewed resolve, he shoved it back into his briefcase and went out the door.

***

Misao gingerly opened her eyes. Her body felt sore, and even the simplest motion of stretching her arms proved difficult. She fingered the thin hospital gown that covered her, trying to recall how she got here. The last thing she remembered was a rainy afternoon in Kyoto, just a day after she had arrived. Misao had left Tokyo in a rush, eager to track down what happened to her father. Okon, her grandfather's assistant, had a college classmate who lived in Kyoto who agreed to take Misao in while she was there. Omasu was kind and cheerful; she even worked as a copywriter for the Oni Times' Kyoto office. Misao was just on her way back to Omasu's house when everything faded to black.

"Good, you're awake," a voice broke through her thoughts coolly.

Misao swiveled her head to see the lean form of Shinomori Aoshi stand up from a corner of the room. Her heart started to pound faster, and she knew it wasn't because of any drug or painkiller the hospital had given her. He still looked dashingly handsome in a black turtleneck as he did in a white lab coat. What was he doing there? But before Misao could open her mouth to ask, he already had an answer. "You had a slight encounter with my car."

"You ran me down?" she pointed out bluntly.

The corner of his cheeks rose briefly, in what Misao thought was his version of a wince. Even she didn't think they would meet again like this. "You crossed the street without looking."

He was blaming her? Her eyebrows shot up, and so did her temper. "Pedestrians have the right of way," she replied. "Besides, you're not the one who ended up in a hospital."

Aoshi stopped at the foot of her bed. "No internal injuries, no concussions, no hemorrhage. You'll just under observation for the next twenty-four hours, then you can go." He paused. "Do you want me to call your family for you? I'm sure they'll be worried."

Misao felt all the energy drain out of her. Okina didn't know about the accident. That only meant -- "You paid for all this?"

He shrugged. "It was the least I could do under the circumstances. I'm afraid I haven't reached your family yet. I wanted to, but when the doctors assured me you would be fine, I didn't want to alarm them needlessly. Besides, I assumed they were still in Tokyo…" His voice trailed off. Either he wasn't used to saying so much in two minutes, or he was really trying to reassure her, so much that he was reasoning out loud. "Do you want me to call them?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

He regarded her with those blue eyes of his, but this time, they somehow seemed softer, gentler. "I'm sure they'd like to know."

"I'm sure if I had a family in the first place, they would be," she blurted out without thinking.

"Then what are you doing here in Kyoto?" he asked.

"Personal business," she replied, meeting him in the eye. "Same as you."

"Where are you staying?" he pursued.

Misao looked away. "A friend's friend." How pathetic that sounded. Here she was, stuck in a hospital, and the only person who was most likely to be concerned was someone she had just met two days ago. She sucked in her breath. She wasn't going to let a small accident get her down. Besides, didn't Aoshi say that she was fine? Misao could feel a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. When she looked back at him, her grin was its old uncontrollable self. "Don't worry, Shinomori-san. I'll be okay."

"Call me Aoshi," he said unexpectedly.

"Aoshi," Misao echoed, delighting in the way his name sounded on her tongue. True, she may have ended up in a hospital, but it wasn't every day that she woke up to such a beautiful sight.

"You'll be discharged tomorrow," he informed her. "Your clothes are on the bottom drawer of the nightstand." Then he turned abruptly and headed for the door.

Misao reached out her arm. "Uh, wait…"

He stopped by the door, but he didn't look back. "Be ready by noon. I'm bringing you home."

***

"What do you mean you don't know where you're staying?" Aoshi exploded, in a rare show of emotion. He was supposed to be driving her home, but at her announcement, he had stopped the car and glared at her. How this girl managed to survive all these years surprised him. Did she think that she could just smile her way through anything?

Misao folded her arms over her chest. She certainly wasn't smiling now. "That wasn't what I said. I said I don't remember. I was only at Omasu's house for one night before I got mowed down by a speeding vehicle."

Aoshi's jaw twitched. Somehow, all his Zen training couldn't help him around Misao. "I've apologized for that, haven't I?"

"No."

Her quick answer stunned him. "What do you --"

"You paid for the hospital bills. You offered to bring me home," she enumerated. "But no, you've never apologized. Not out loud." She faced him. "Look, Aoshi, I know actions speak louder than words, and I know you're extremely sorry for what happened. But sometimes… sometimes, there are things that can't be left unsaid."

Her bottom lip trembled as she said her piece, but her eyes revealed an inner calm, an acceptance of sorts. Aoshi realized that he shouldn't underestimate this girl. "I'm sorry, Misao. I truly wish this didn't happen."

She grinned up at him. "But then we wouldn't have met again now, would we? I think we should keep driving. I'll recognize Omasu's house once I see it."

Aoshi sighed and started the car. As he drove, he felt that same kind of release he had felt when he was running away from the white Mitsubishi the other night. But this time, with the sun on his face and the smiling girl at his side, it felt much different. Was he becoming weak? Aoshi summoned his stoic expression and kept it on his face. "So now we'll drive through the streets of Kyoto aimlessly. What if you just give me her last name and we can look her up in the book?"

"Uhm…" The sound was so ominous that Aoshi knew what was coming. He shot a quick look at a blushing Misao. "Actually, I don't know her last name."

Why was he not surprised? "Because you only met her--"

"—Two nights ago," Misao finished for him. "You catch on fast, Aoshi."

"And you don't know anything about this woman you're staying with?"

"She works at the Oni Times," she answered.

Aoshi suppressed a groan. What was it about him and journalists? Was he ever going to be rid of them? Here he was, trying to keep a low profile, and still he managed to get himself surrounded by journalists and reporters. "Maybe I can drop you off at her office."

"That would be fine," she replied. "Wait, I have the address written down right here…" Her hands dove through her pockets, until she finally fished out a small piece of paper.

She grinned and waved it in his face. "Hey, I have her home address here, too."

Amnesia, he decided. The girl just had temporary amnesia. Thinking that over and over again was enough to keep him from giving Misao a good-natured spanking. A picture of Misao sprang to his mind, sprawled across his knees, her warm –

"Look out!" Misao cried out, and Aoshi swerved the Subaru just in time to avoid an overtaking vehicle.

She turned to him with fire in her eyes. "What were you thinking? And you blame me for crossing the street that night? You're a menace to society? I bet you're just itching to throw your money away on a complete stranger's hospital bills--"

"Give me the address," he growled, desperate to change the topic.

She did and shut up.

***

They stopped in front of a modest bungalow on a quiet street. Misao could only faintly recall the house, but if the address on that paper said that this was it, then this was it. She turned to thank Aoshi, only to find his seat empty.

"Where--" She stopped herself when she saw Aoshi open her door for her.

"Don't get lost now," he told her.

Too late, she wanted to say. "Arigatou," she said instead.

"Maybe I'll run into you again," he said.

Was he cracking a joke? Misao couldn't tell. His eyes were the same icy blue that they were when they first met; she had no idea whether he was serious or not. Did he really want to see her again?

"I'll try not to pass out cold this time," she replied.

His eyes seemed to be laughing as he got back into his car and drove off.

***

"Where is she staying?" the voice on the other end of the line asked.

"A house rented by one Niitsu Omasu."

"Good work. Shinomori should have kept his girl in Tokyo if he wanted to keep her alive." Then with a loud laugh, he hung up.

Seta Soujirou smiled at the mobile phone in his hands. Shishio seemed to be having a lot of fun these days. A little paranoid, but that didn't matter. Soujirou started his Mitsubishi and headed home. Things were starting to get pretty interesting around here.

End of Chapter 5 - Silences Broken

Author's Notes: This fic is updated weekly, so I hope the wait wasn't too long. I also hope that I've answered at least SOME of the questions you have. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I will be so pleased to know that you had fun reading it as well.