Disclaimer: What, you think I think I own it? I'm not THAT delusional.
Look, I'm not dead! I know it's been...six months since last chapter, but I have risen at last. This is another unbeta-ed chapter, though I promise you I've combed through it many times for errors. I would appreciate you pointing it out if you've spotted one, though.
Enjoy!
Chapter Six
A Lesson in Truth
Tokyo, Japan
8th Year of Meiji
November 10
Misao-chan,
I feel I have to tell you the truth about why I stayed. I am so sorry if it appears I was abandoning you—I would never wish to do that. I would also never wish to hurt you, though I know if I had stayed, I would.
Enizu did not trick me into staying. He explained some things to me, and I made the decision on my own.
Misao, I know how much Aoshi means to you. I know what you would do to find him. But here and now, I can tell you, he is a changed man. He is not the man we remember, Misao. I don't think he would want you to see him as he is now.
Aoshi is here and I know you will hate me forever for not telling you. Perhaps it is best, then, that this is my last letter to you. If you hate me, then so be it, but know I am only doing what I think is right for you. I never want to see you hurt.
How long have we wondered what hatred Aoshi had against Enizu? I understand it now. Enizu opened my eyes.
Aoshi cares for us both a great deal. He cares for us enough to abandon his principles and work for a man he hates—to protect us. But he cares for you differently than he cares for me. To Aoshi, you are a young girl, a light in his past that he never wants to forget. But I am a young woman to Aoshi, and that makes all the difference. Because he sees me as a man sees a woman, not as a man sees a child.
You may hate me more, but this, I know, is not a fault of my own. Aoshi has hated Enizu for so long because he believed Enizu was conspiring to steal me away, to make me turn on Aoshi.
I promise that Enizu has never had any intention of doing so, and I certainly will never turn on our guardian.
But knowing that Aoshi sees me this way has made me realize I can't play dumb anymore. It will break your heart, Misao, and that is why I left you. I can't stay with you, knowing that the man you love already loves another. Me.
I know you will want to march back to Castle Edo the minute this letter reaches you, but I ask, no, I beg that you don't. If not for me, or for Aoshi, then for yourself. Please.
All my love,
Naruku
The sky was a million blinking stars over a rolling, endless sea of brown dirt.
That's what Naruku told herself as she walked along the path, Makkou wagging his tail and trotting happily at her side. The sea was not so endless after all if it finally brought her to where she was going.
Her knuckles whitened as she clutched her brown satchel to her chest, her footsteps becoming more and more determined as her heart grew less so. She was going back, finally, after so much time.
She didn't expect to be welcomed with open arms. In fact, she would have found it not only fair, but right if they decided to toss her to the streets as soon as she arrived.
Though plagued by these and several other horrible thoughts, Naruku's gait did not waver. Instead she strode steadily forward, her expression set and her fists clenched. Nothing betrayed her.
She was so intent on her purpose that she hardly noticed when she bumped into somehow who'd been passing her on the road. They had a thick black cloak drawn over their body protectively, their small stature made smaller by the illusion of the huge cloak, covering almost every inch of their person, making it impossible to discern the person's gender.
Only Makkou's sharp bark made Naruku tear away from her thoughts to allow just a shred of courtesy. She turned to the person to apologize for her clumsiness, only to find that the person had already gone on their way.
It would have been an entirely unremarkable encounter and Naruku would have been perfectly content to simply go on her way without another thought—that is, until she caught sight of the cloaked person continuing on into the night, a long black tail whipping around behind them.
Naruku stopped and blinked. And turned to look again.
Then she knew. That wasn't a tail, that was a braid. And that person…could it be that that person was the one she was seeking?
On instinct alone, Naruku whirled around and dashed after them, this time pausing for no one. She ran on, her eyes focused only on the figure in the cloak whom she was about to catch up with. She didn't even notice that Makkou was still where she'd left him, barking his confusion to the sky.
"Watch where you're going!" came a sharp rebuke as Naruku careened and crashed into a few passerbys that stood between her and her goal.
Naruku uttered out a few sincere-sounding apologies and sprinted on. Soon she was feet—no, inches—away from the cloaked figure. She extended out her arm and reached to brush her fingertips along the back of her seemingly oblivious target.
Then the figure accelerated, as if she or he had sensed they were being followed but did not dare turn around. Naruku fell back as the figure rushed forward, away from Naruku's grasp and down a particularly narrow alley. Naruku followed behind but the alley was too dark to see where the cloaked figure had gone.
Naruku was left with only one option.
"Misao!" she called in a high, shrill voice.
That did it. The cloaked figure spun around, and stepping forward, Naruku saw with finality that it was, indeed, her childhood friend. Though years separated them, Naruku had no trouble recognizing Misao.
No such ease came to Misao, it seemed, who stared at Naruku for a good minute or two until recognition flashed across her features. She drew closer to Naruku, her eyes full of curiosity and—if Naruku wasn't mistaken—hurt.
"Is it…is it really you?" Misao asked in a hoarse voice. She clutched her cloak around her shoulders even tighter against a wind that ripped through them and at once settled.
Naruku nodded, unsure as to why her voice didn't seem to work.
"Yeah Misao," she said quietly, fighting against the lump that formed in her throat. "Yeah, it's really me."
In a flash, Misao's expression steeled and Naruku knew what was coming before it came. Misao raised her hand to strike Naruku—a hard smack across the face. But Naruku caught her friend's wrist before her stroke could fall.
Misao's face seized up in anger. This was much different from the playful, whiney anger that Naruku was used to. This was real anger.
Before Naruku could react, Misao's leg shot up and caught her in the jaw, sending Naruku flying backwards to lie in the dirt of the street. Confusion marred Naruku's features as she sat up, clutching at the spot that Misao had kicked her in.
"M…Misao…" she said quietly.
Misao faced her, standing in an offensive position, clearly ready to fight.
"What are you to me, huh? What are you to me, Naruku?" she demanded.
Naruku was shocked by the harshness of her voice. Since when had Misao been this callous, this angry? What had happened to turn her sweet, childhood friend into a raging demon? Perhaps her signature move, Demon bird kick, was not so ill suited after all.
"Misao, I…I'm your friend. I always have been. What's going on? I know it's been a long time, Misao, but I…I'm still your friend," Naruku heard the feebleness of her own pleading, and she knew Misao could hear it too.
And in that moment, Naruku had her answer. What had happened to turn Misao into what she was now, bearing down on her with fury radiating from ever inch of her body?
Naruku had happened. Naruku had left Misao, perhaps at a time she needed her most. Naruku felt a blast of guilt and shame. So powerful was the blow that Naruku felt she had been kicked again. Worse—she felt as she had at that moment, weeks ago, when she had returned to the dojo to find her lover, Enizu, locked in a death match with the man she loved—Kenshin.
All. Her. Fault.
"My friend?" Misao repeated, derision apparent in her tone. "Since when do friends abandon one another, Naruku? How could you do that to me when you knew—you knew—what I had gone through when Aoshi left. How could you?"
Misao's angry rant had dribbled off into quiet despair. She said again, her voice so small Naruku almost missed it, "How could you?"
Finally Naruku felt it was safe to scoop herself off the floor, and she did so, but not without difficulty.
"Misao," she said steadily, not betraying how weakened and hurt she felt inside. She approached Misao, whose breathing was loud and labored, and cautiously put a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "Misao I'm so, so sorry. I have made too many mistakes in my life, and this is one I regret most."
It was true. She and Misao had grown up together. Since the day her father had died—no, was murdered—Naruku was introduced to the Aoiya and everyone who lived there. Though it was not, perhaps, the preference of her pacifist father for her to live with a group of ninjas, it was a time of happiness for Naruku. Though Misao had been almost three years younger than Naruku and already more advanced in the martial arts, the two had gone together like a pair of chopsticks. You couldn't really have one without the other.
Together they had grown and trained and together they had harbored the pain of being left behind by their friends, the Oniwabanshuu.
It was with Naruku's urging that Misao had agreed to set out to look for Aoshi—she was barely ten at the time, and Naruku not much older. They were prime victims for any number of crimes, but somehow they'd made it through together.
Always they were searching for their friends, their mentors. They had learned to count on each other as they'd never counted on anyone before. Like a pair of chopsticks, they worked best together.
Until Naruku had left, without so much as a goodbye. The truth would have hurt Misao far more than Naruku could bear, so she said nothing, did nothing. She was simply there one day, fighting back-to-back against the world with Misao, and gone the next, leaving Misao to fend for herself.
"I'm so sorry Misao," Naruku said again, and tears resonated in her voice.
Misao's shoulders sagged. She had no choice but to forgive her friend.
Naruku persisted. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was all mixed-up Misao. I should never have left you."
"It's…" Misao seemed to be on the verge of telling her it was okay, that she was forgiven. But she shook her head. No words came.
"Do you think we could…can we…go back to the Aoiya?" Naruku asked tentatively. "I would love to see everyone again."
Misao looked up and Naruku offered her a brave smile. It would be so easy for Misao to crush what little hope Naruku had of reconciliation. She could walk away. She could yell and tell Naruku to give it up, she'd never be forgiven. She could say that she'd long since forgotten about her.
But Misao didn't do any of that. Instead she gave Naruku what she most wanted—a genuine smile. It was small, but Misao knew the extent to which it lightened Naruku's heart.
"All right," Misao replied finally. "Let's go."
Still wary, Naruku plodded along a couple paces behind Misao, unsure of where she stood with the usually cheerful ninja.
But once they were out on the road again, underneath the vast, dark sky, Misao began chattering away, about this and that and everything in between. Naruku spotted Makkou on the side of the road and he perked up as he caught sight of her and came bounding over.
"Misao, this is Makkou," Naruku introduced them.
"He's great, Naruku, where'd you find him?" Misao asked, delighting in Makkou's enthusiasm and his slobbery greeting.
"It's kind of a long story," Naruku admitted, unable to stop the grin that spread across her face as they set out again. "And I'd much rather hear how things are with you."
It had been five years and everything was still the same. As they walked, Naruku let Misao prattle on—part of her was grateful that she was being spared having to tell her own story, and keeping her silence against Misao's endless stream of words was an effortless task.
As they approached the Aoiya, Naruku felt her steps slowing. She wanted so much to go back there and have everything be how it was when she'd left. She knew there were many things that had changed, but was she ready to face them?
"Naruku?" Misao paused in her story (something about Omasu and Okon, Naruku wasn't sure what specifically.)
"Yes?" Naruku replied, hesitant.
"What are you waiting for?" Misao asked. It was then that Naruku realized she had stopped moving completely and was just staring at the Aoiya, its entrance lit with lanterns and its walls looking newer than Naruku ever remembered.
"Oh," Naruku said, and forced her legs to move again, side-by-side with Misao. The younger girl quickly grabbed Naruku's arm and half-dragged her toward the inn. The front door clacked open and revealed a young woman, not much older than Naruku herself, framed in the doorway.
"Misao? Is that you?" the woman asked, staring into the dark.
"Yup, it's me!" Misao responded cheerfully, albeit a decibel or two over what was socially acceptable. "We have company Omasu, go tell the others," at this, Misao cleared her throat primly. "Orders from their Okashira to assemble in the dining hall immediately." She and Naruku came to stop a meter or two away from the door. Omasu stared at them, at Misao, and then at Naruku. Not a bit of recognition flashed across her features, and Naruku felt herself shrink back against Misao. She thought she might be greeted with anger or disappointment…but to be forgotten completely?
Omasu's gaze dropped to the perky black mutt beside the two girls and her expression morphed into a frown.
"He can't come in," she said resolutely.
"Whatever you say," Misao assured her, pushing Makkou back and waving him away with a 'shoo!'
Without another word, Omasu bowed and swept away, leaving an empty doorway through which Naruku could glimpse the inside of the Aoiya. The front hall was, predictably, lined with geta and zori sandals, as well as slippers for indoor use. Naruku let her eyes wander over the various paraphernalia that was lying about in the front—unbrellas, coats, fans—before gazing down the hall to where it turned the corner. Trying hard to remember where that hallway led and what that room looked like, Naruku hardly noticed when Misao touched her briefly on the arm and said, "Are you ready?"
Even after all these years, Naruku found comfort in the fact that Misao was looking out for her. She relaxed and nodded, realizing as she answered that it was true. She was ready.
Misao paraded down the hallway as a less confident Naruku shuffled behind her, her face down and her fingers tangled in her belt. What would they say when they saw her? The worst, Naruku decided, would be if they said nothing and did nothing, but simply left her there in front of all of them.
And what of Aoshi? How could she face him? He had been so right about so many things, and she, ever fallible, had not trusted him. Naruku's mind was a forest of worries as she stepped into the dining hall and raised her face to greet all of them.
What she saw was the normal boisterous scuffle of dinner. Okina was pounding on the table, demanding to be fed while Omasu scolded him unkindly. Kuro grinned as he stole Shiro's rice bowl, who didn't notice until it was too late and any signs of the culprit were long gone.
"Now really, Misao, why do you insist on going out to who-knows-where without word of when you'll get home? We've been hungry for hours and we were about to start without you!" Okon was complaining, completely ignoring Naruku.
Naruku let her sight sweep across her old friends' faces. A deep sadness filled her, but along with that was gratitude. These were the people who had raised her, and she had missed them. As her eyes trailed from Okina to Shiro, she realized that in the very corner of the room sat Aoshi, and he was looking directly at her.
Naruku quickly averted her eyes and stared at the pretty shoji doors instead.
"Everyone, everyone, as your Okashira—"
"Who is she kidding?" Kuro elbowed Okina, who only glowered at him.
Misao chose to ignore that comment and continued. "As acting Okashira, I'd like to ask everyone to pay attention and be patient."
This was met with a chorus of outcries, mostly about how hungry they were, and Misao responded sharply. "QUIET YOU!"
They fell silent, save for a few grumbles that Okina offered.
"Now. Everyone. As I was out doing Okashira-related things today, I ran into an old friend."
Everyone stared at Naruku, and she suddenly felt like a rare bird found roosting in Kyoto.
"Konbanwa," she greeted them quietly. "Hello again."
She was greeted by silence and she knew her worst-case scenario had come to life.
After a beat, a strong and deep voice came to her rescue. Aoshi lifted his tea and said simply, "Hello again Naruku."
"Naruku…" Kuro repeated, as if he couldn't believe it. Astounded, he let go of Shiro's rice bowl and it landed on the ground, not breaking but making a loud enough crash that it startled everyone out of their shock.
"What—but, how…and when—?" Omasu stuttered, unable to formulate a complete thought.
"Naruku!" Shiro cried joyously, and Naruku found herself smiling despite herself at the ruckus that she was causing.
The suddenly Okina stood up, looking very grim. "Are you planning to stay with us?" he asked, gravity dripping off of each syllable.
"I…thought I would. Just for a little," Naruku replied, bowing her head.
"Good, then make yourself useful and help Omasu bring the food out from the kitchen!" Okina barked. There was a moment of breathless silence, and then Naruku realized this was Okina's way of welcoming her.
No, better than that, he was allowing her to slip back into sync with all of them and act as though nothing had changed between them. Things had changed, of course, they always did, but it was a reassurance that Naruku needed. They all felt the same about her, even now, after all these years. She was still Naruku to them.
"Yes sir!" Naruku replied and grinned childishly before sweeping back into the kitchen, ridiculously pleased at her reunion with the Oniwabanshuu. A moment alone in the kitchen allowed her a quick reflection on all that had changed since she'd last seen these people. Hannya, Beshimi, Shikijo and Hyotokko were gone, but Aoshi had returned to them. And now, Naruku had as well. Both had escaped the clutches of the Takedas, but neither unscathed.
Naruku sat back on her heels, placing her hands on a tray filled with delicious looking cuts of chicken and fish to be served over rice. Her thoughts drifted to Kenshin and the others and for the first time she took in the fact that she really and truly missed them. All of them.
Could she dare to hope to be greeted with open arms as she had here? Somehow coming back to the Aoiya had given her confidence, but she didn't yet know if she could return to Tokyo. Time would tell, she decided, picking up the tray and carrying it cautiously into the next room. For now she would be satisfied with a full meal and playful dinner conversation with old friends.
End Notes: Did that surprise any of you? Probably the most surprising is the letter in the beginning, but don't worry, all will be explained. Hopefully, though, it won't take another six months.
I joke, I joke. Spring break is a lovely time in that I have loads of free time. And who knows? Maybe another chapter will be out before you know it. This and Dovetail are my most important right now, though I still desperately need to finish Rainbows.
Please review and tell me what you think of this long-awaited chapter.
