Author's Note: Hello, dear readers! Long time no see! How's the family? [Insert one of my long, rambling apologies here]. However, here's some good news to make it up to you. Turns out I lied in my author's note for the previous chapter! This is not the last one! Basically, I started writing and, before I knew it, it was 8000+ words and still going full steam! So, voila, I had to split it up! Anyway, enjoy the penultimate chapter, my lovelies, and let me know what you think!
Chapter Fourteen
'Fuck off, Sano!'
He grinned ruefully, patting Yahiko on the shoulder as the boy rolled away from him and pulled the duvet over his head. He couldn't blame the poor kid. He had to wake him every hour and he knew for a fact Yahiko hadn't been sleeping well. Kaoru still hadn't come out of her coma and if it wasn't for his concussion and Megumi's insistence, the boy would have joined Kenshin camped out at her bedside.
The grumbling followed him out of the room and he chuckled softly, shaking his head. It wasn't like he was getting a lot of shuteye either. Running a hand across his face and up through his hair, he slumped down onto the sofa, wincing as it jarred his recently dislocated shoulder. Letting his head drop back against the cushions, he sighed as hands slid lightly down over his shoulders from behind, careful not to put too much pressure on his injury. He shivered as breath whispered against his ear.
'You know we could at least take it in turns to check on the kid,' Megumi purred, nibbling at his lobe.
He tugged on her hand, turning his head to kiss her, but she slipped away, laughing.
'Why are you punishing yourself?'
Trailing her fingers down his arm, she slid round to sit in his lap.
'I'm not,' he mumbled, distracting them both as he rubbed his hand down around her waist, accidentally brushing the curve of her breast as he did so. 'Maybe I like being awake.'
He waggled his eyebrows at her and she rolled her eyes, stifling a giggle as he tried to squeeze her ass, the one armed nature of the attack making it awkward. He pouted up at her, the sweet look ruined by the wicked twinkle in his gaze.
'Hey, what kind of doctor are you, laughing at the injured?' He sulked. 'You should be healing me.'
He pulled her closer and began kissing a path from the enticing shadow of her cleavage in nightdress up her neck to her cheek. Megumi tilted her head, allowing him better access to the sensitive skin behind her ear.
'And how would you suggest I do that?' She whispered, her breath catching as his teeth grazed her.
'Kiss it better?'
He growled in frustration, his hand fumbling against her back, tugging at the thin fabric trapped under her, keeping him from her bare flesh. Smirking, she helped him. Turning to straddle his lap, her eyes fluttered closed for a second as he sighed his approval, hand sliding up her now exposed thigh. The rough calluses of his fingers caught against her skin in a way that had her wriggling against him, a jolt of electricity heating her blood as the coarse fabric of his trousers brushed against her. He tightened his grip, pressing her closer as he lifted his hips, ever so slightly increasing the pressure.
'I don't think that's a recognised medical cure,' she murmured breathlessly inches from his lips.
Letting her tongue flick the corner of his mouth, she watched his eyes darken and his grin drop away, replaced by something far more intense.
'I'm willing to give it a try if you are, Kitsune.'
She didn't reply. Instead, pushing gently at his good shoulder, she urged him to lie back and slowly began undoing the tiny white buttons down the front of her nightdress, the ones that drove him crazy. He watched her for a minute, enjoying the sweet torture of slowly revealed flesh, the way her eyes shuttered as her fingers stroked lightly over the dip between her breasts. He could almost feel his own hands cupping, caressing. He wanted the sensation of silken skin beneath his touch and the way she made that little noise when he did it just right.
'No touching,' she commanded huskily, twining her fingers with those that had lifted unconsciously to reach for her. 'Let the doctor do her work.'
Bending forwards, she rolled her hips against him, relishing the way his head tilted back and his breath caught. She forced his hand above his head, hair falling around their faces to tickle him as she skimmed her lips down his jawline, his throat, pausing to suck at his collarbone and then lower. Nibbling and kissing each part she found, she slowly worked her way down his bare chest. It was moments like these she loved his habit of sleeping only in a pair of loose jogging bottoms.
Her caresses grew in fervour as she found the fading bruises and the ridges of scars, testament to how close she had come to losing him. Not all were from the latest battle. Her tongue circled his navel, scraping it delicately with her teeth and enjoying the way his stomach muscles contracted, body tensing. She let her hand stray lower to trace the line of his trousers and then slip inside. He groaned loudly.
'Maybe I should almost die more often,' he chuckled hoarsely, straining up just a little, desperate for her touch.
For just a second, there was silence. Then she stiffened abruptly, snatching her hands away as though his body had burned her. Baffled, he pushed himself up just in time for her to smack him hard across the face.
'Hey!' He caught her hand as she made to hit him again. 'Hey, what's up? What's the matter?'
She just glared at him and it took him a moment until his brain caught up with his mouth.
'Aw, c'mon, Kitsune, I was joking,' he groaned.
'Forgive me if I don't find the idea of you dying funny,' she snarled, starting to climb off him.
He tightened his grip and yanked her down against his chest, ignoring the protest of his healing body. She struggled, scratching at his hand. He held on.
'It's not funny. I know it's not funny, Megumi,' he growled, fighting to keep his hold on her. 'But did you maybe think for a minute that this is how I deal with it? Maybe I laugh at it 'cause if I don't…'
He trailed off, loosening his grasp, but by then she'd stopped trying to escape.
'That kid… We both nearly died back there, Megumi. If it weren't for him we'd be dead or damn near it. He saved my ass, that young kid saved my ass. So yea, maybe I joke, maybe I'm gonna punish myself a bit, maybe I'm gonna wake up every hour to make sure that he sticks around, but maybe I damn well deserve it.'
Megumi pushed away and looked down at him for long, silent moments, an indecipherable expression on her face. Then she leaned forward, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. It wasn't lustful or passionate, a simple press of lips, before she took his hand and led him back to their bedroom.
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For the millionth time in as many weeks Kaoru found herself coming to with no clue where she was or who she was with. This had to be causing permanent damage. Panic caught and held in her chest, a sudden pain coiling rapidly around the spot.
Gasping for air, she forced her mind from the deep, numbing confines of whatever drug had been pumped into her system. It was like punching her way through a thick concrete wall but she was determined she was not going to let this happen to her again. Pausing a moment in her efforts, she tried to remember the events before her blackout and for long seconds all she could piece together was a blur of orange and white. Then, as though the wall had suddenly collapsed on top of her, crushing the breath from her lungs, time sped up, playing through all that had happened, Soujiro's break down, Shishio's death, the gun aimed at Battousai's back.
'Kaoru-dono, please calm down. Everything is all right.'
Battousai's voice slid through the haze and she pried her eyes open. For a second, her vision blurred, the lights shining in her eyes dazzling. Then as her gaze focused her breath stuttered out between suddenly numb lips. A worried pale purple gaze caught her own. No, this was not Battousai this was the old Kenshin. Had it all been a dream then? Was this just some hideous nightmare she was waking up from? If so then she had a sick, sick mind and needed some serious psychiatric attention.
Closing her eyes against the glare of bright white lights, she took in her surroundings. The room smelled of acrid chemicals and disinfectant, the sheets beneath her skin were starched and a little rough to her touch and she could sense the despair and joy of a thousand souls. A hospital.
Kenshin seemed to think she'd fallen back into unconsciousness, gently rearranging the sheets she'd rumpled in her struggle to wakefulness before sitting back in a seat pulled close to her bed. Normally, he would have been better at reading her ki but even she could feel the way the drugs had addled her signature.
She took the rare opportunity of this unguarded moment to observe him through half slit eyes, cataloguing every nuance of his body language. He looked tense, the lines of his shoulders rigid and, if the steadily building throb of pain in her chest hadn't been bad enough, she could now almost feel the knots of stress down his back. His hair, though clean, was unkempt, flyaway strands falling loosely from the low ponytail she hadn't seen for so long. The worst came, however, when her gaze slid up to his face. The remnants of near healed wounds marred his pale skin, taut in a way which made him look almost gaunt, malnourished, and shaggy bangs half hid eyes ringed with bruise dark circles as though he hadn't slept in days.
With a thrill, she realised that those eyes were trained on her face. Their gazes held for long moments. There was a time when staring into those violet orbs had left her heart beating as though she were about to have a coronary, but somehow now they were barely familiar, empty somehow, a disguise. She knew the deeply passionate, dangerous man that lay beneath this façade and she couldn't help feeling the strangest sting of disappointment at the thought that he was once again held back, possibly never to return.
Looking hurriedly away, she gingerly adjusted her position, trying to ignore the sensation that something about being with him now wasn't quite right. Kenshin immediately shot forwards in his seat to support her and for some reason this anxiety irked her.
'You look like crap,' she grouched, swatting his hands away.
Before Kenshin could do more than smile wanly, a bark of laughter cracked through the room like a bullet. Jumping a little, Kaoru's hand shot up to press against her chest, her wince of pain became a surprising beam of pleasure as she caught sight of her godparents standing in the doorway.
'We heard you'd come to for a minute yesterday so we came to see how our darling goddaughter was doing.'
Tokio swept in in such a bustle of happy chatter and motherly concern that Kaoru didn't notice at first how the two men reacted to each other. Kenshin stood perfectly still by her bedside, stance studiously casual, but his body carefully angled to block the other man's access to her. The response to him wasn't much friendlier.
'Thanks for coming, Uncle Saitou,' Kaoru called to the man leaning over-nonchalantly in the doorway.
He grunted something incomprehensible and she turned back to Tokio to hide the smile spreading across her face. Her father's best friend had acted like a grumpy old man for as long as she could remember. His wife on the other hand was the polar opposite. Lively, loving and just plain amiable, Kaoru had never met a single person who hadn't adored Tokio within five minutes of meeting her. Then again, she supposed that was how she must have caught Saitou. It was that or the steel backbone she hid beneath her sweet exterior. With one glance, she could make you feel like the greatest person alive or the lowest, dirtiest piece of scum she had ever come across.
'Saitou, come and say hello to your goddaughter,' Tokio chided, arranging the homemade snacks she'd brought for Kaoru on the tray table across her bed.
When Saitou didn't move, crossing his arms over his chest and keeping his eyes trained on Kenshin, she spun round, hands on her hips. The look she gave him promised all kinds of hell if he didn't obey.
'Hajime Saitou!'
To Kaoru's infinite amusement, Saitou pushed away from the door and started into the room. He paused part way across the floor though, back going poker straight and eyes flaring with anger. Following his gaze, she just caught the taunting smirk as it faded to a bland smile on Kenshin's face. Her heart skipped a beat. That was Battousai's look not his mask's.
Now, however, they had a problem. Saitou was not going to move as long as Kenshin stayed where he was, his pride bruised by the unspoken insinuation that he was under his wife's thumb, and Kenshin was not about to go anywhere. They were at a stalemate and much as she longed to see that expression again, that beautiful arrogance and power she had grown to love, Kaoru had to do something.
'Kenshin, I'm thirsty,' she croaked, her voice deliberately rough.
His attention was immediately diverted to her, though she knew at the slightest movement from Saitou he would be ready. He turned to reach for the pitcher of iced water on the windowsill but she caught his sleeve.
'Can I have some juice?' She pleaded.
He looked at her and she could have sworn she saw a flicker of gold ring the violet of his eyes before the mild, concerned veneer fell back into place. The man beneath the disguise knew perfectly well what she was doing.
'Please,' she beseeched, adding a tremble to her words.
He didn't move, body staying in that faintly stooped position as though he were humbling himself.
'Water gives better hydration, Kaoru-dono. Sessha thinks it would be best if you drink that.'
Annoyance sizzled through her. This act was getting old. She wasn't stupid. She had seen beneath the mask and this meek servant crap wasn't going to work anymore.
'I want juice, Kenshin,' she gritted out between clenched teeth. 'Now.'
'Kaoru-dono, Sessha really thinks…'
"Kaoru-dono doesn't care what Sessha thinks!" She snarled.
She let the unspoken insinuation hang that if he had been himself, the true Battousai, she might have obeyed more readily. His bangs fell across his eyes and he shifted uncomfortably. Part of the act, she knew, but still better. Her hands itched for something to hit him with but she restrained herself, infusing all her anger into her eyes.
'Sessha will be right back.'
He shuffled away, shoulder brushing Saitou's ever so lightly as he past. The other man followed him with his gaze until the door was closed and the sound of Kenshin's footsteps faded down the hall. Then he relaxed, coming to sit in the chair Kenshin had previously vacated. Tokio smiled, patting Kaoru's hand approvingly before moving to fluff her pillows.
'You know, when the Itachi came and told me her best friend was being held hostage by the Battousai, it never crossed my mind it would be you,' Saitou said, leaning back in his seat and tapping a cigarette from the packet he drew out of his pocket. 'Clearly I haven't been keeping enough of an eye on you if you've fallen in with that lot, Kamiya.'
Kaoru frowned. Saitou insisted, despite her practically begging him not to, on calling her by her surname just as he'd done with her father. She wasn't sure what it was about it but it always made her uncomfortable. If she was playing shrink, she would probably have guessed it was because she felt as though by taking her father's nickname she was taking his place.
'You know you're not allowed to smoke in a hospital, right?'
Saitou raised an eyebrow that told her exactly what he thought of that rule, but the cigarettes retreated back into their hiding place. She doubted it had anything to do with hospital regulations, however, and a lot more with the look Tokio shot him as she placed fresh flowers in the vase on Kaoru's bedside table.
'Who's Itachi?' Kaoru asked, settling back more comfortably against her newly plumped pillows.
The pain in her chest had somewhat receded but a dull thrum still radiated from a spot just above her heart, echoing its throb. The only good thing about the shock that stopped it beating was the fact that the ache stopped with it.
'I don't know her name.'
Saitou waved a hand dismissively.
'Shinomori's woman, the one that won't shut up.'
Misao. Kaoru gasped. Images of her limp body on the sofa in Shishio's house rose to the surface. How could she have forgotten Misao? Grief rose up in a tide, engulfed her, crushed the oxygen from her lungs until she choked. Her friend had lost her life because of Shishio, had been killed because of her, to make her suffer, and she couldn't even be bothered to remember, to mourn her loss.
Anguish and guilt mingled and twisted her insides, a pain like nothing she had ever felt before. It wrenched at her gut, clawed at her heart. Dimly, she felt Tokio holding her, heard the heart monitor going into overdrive and the fury as Kenshin and a nurse barreled into the room, demanding to know what had happened. She didn't care.
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Misao paused in her sit up, peering at the closed bedroom door. She could have sworn she heard a noise outside, but when a minute past without a recurrence she returned to what she had been doing.
Each steady roll up to sitting was agony, her body begging her to stop. Yet, at the same time each slice of pain across her chest only reminded her of her failure, taunting her, forcing her to continue. It mocked her with her weakness. She hadn't saved Kaoru, she hadn't proved herself to Aoshi-sama, but so much worse than that she'd had to be rescued. Again. Aoshi had had to come and save her. Despite his own injuries, he'd been obliged to infiltrate a compound, fight off dozens of enemies, to get her out.
Clenching her fists, she relished the sweat that slid down between her shoulder blades and she let herself pretend that that was what was trickling down her cheeks too. She was so angry with herself. How could she be so weak? So useless? Her Aoshi-sama was never going to love her like this. Heck, even she was disgusted with herself. She was only on her fifth sit up and already her breath hitched, her body shook with the exertion and pain. Pathetic.
'What are you doing?'
Aoshi stood in the doorway, watching her with blank eyes. She hadn't even heard the door. His voice was as carefully flat as ever, but still there was something in it, the tiniest inflection that told her he was not only not happy, but was in fact, furious.
Lying back, she tried to control her breathing and hide the way her muscles trembled. When that failed, she widened her eyes and smiled weakly up at him.
'Would you believe I fell out of bed?' She asked hopefully.
She watched his eyebrows rise into his hairline and sighed. No, she supposed he wouldn't. Rolling over, she winced as she made to get to her feet, but before she was so much as on her knees Aoshi had swept her up into his arms, cradling her against him as he lowered her back to the bed. She closed her eyes, inhaling the crisp, clean scent of him. She was so pathetic.
Once she was safely back on the mattress, she expected him to release her and step away as he always did. Instead, she felt the bed dip as he sat beside her, her body still resting against his own. Eyes shooting open, she craned her neck to look up at him. He didn't seem to notice though, too focused on rearranging the pillows to best support her before he settled her back against them. Silly her, of course it wasn't because he wanted to hold her.
'Stop it,' she said, her tone resigned.
When he ignored her, quietly adjusting the covers, she felt something livid stir to life inside her. She couldn't deal with this anymore. It wasn't fair to do these sweet little things, leaving her clinging to this horrible half-hope.
'Stop it!' She screamed, slapping his hands away. 'Stop treating me like a child. I am not a baby and I'm not weak. Well, I am but I'm going to get better, you wait, I'm going to get strong and you're going to be proud of me and someday I'm going to kick your ass so hard…'
She trailed off, flushing a deep pink with the force of her outburst. It was the most colour she'd had in weeks. Even during the illicit training sessions she'd pushed herself through her skin had remained pale, only a more prominent pallor coming to her cheeks as the blood flowed to the muscle and still healing wounds.
'I do not think you are weak, Misao,' Aoshi intoned and she could have sworn his lips twitched with a smile. 'And I have every expectation of you becoming strong enough to spar with me…Although perhaps "kicking my ass" might be a little much.'
She scowled, crossing her arms over her chest.
'I don't know about that old man.'
To her surprise Aoshi suddenly leaned forwards until their faces were mere inches apart, her folded arms trapped between their bodies.
'Perhaps, Misao, if I am no longer to think of you as a child, I might ask you to stop thinking of me as an old man. I am not so old, you know.'
Her eyes widened and in the shock of the moment she blurted the first thing that came into her head, something which was not really that uncommon.
'I don't think of you as old. I…'
She bit her lip to hold back the rest of her words, stomach flip flopping as his gaze dropped to her mouth. When his eyes returned to her face, his expression was still as emotionless as ever, but his pupils had dilated until the ice blue was fading into the black. He reached out to catch a stray strand of hair that had fallen across her face.
'What do you think of me, Misao?' He murmured, watching her blush as his fingers skimmed her cheek.
'I…I…'
For once in her life Misao was lost for words. Was he asking what she thought he was asking? She couldn't be sure and she didn't want to say it if he meant something else. The humiliation would end her. When she didn't say any more, Aoshi took control.
'Let me tell you what I think of you, Misao. I think you're loyal. I think you're strong in ways you don't even know about. I think that any man lucky enough to be chosen by you would have to spend the rest of his life working to deserve it and I think that when I thought I'd lost you, when I saw you lying in that place, my world fell apart. I will not let you go again.'
With those words he cupped her face, tilting it up to meet his kiss. It was light, a brush of lips, testing her response. When she didn't move, he began to pull away, his mask settling more securely over his features as he looked at her. Misao had her eyes closed, head still tipped back. A soft noise of distress slipped from her as he withdrew, leaning forwards to follow his movement.
It was a good thing she wasn't looking at him in that moment. The pure passion in his gaze would have overwhelmed her. Aoshi had never showed such emotion. It was probably amazing his features could still express it. The hunger and desire that flickered over his face was almost feral in its delight.
Catching her face between his hands, Aoshi kissed her again. This time there was no hesitation or tentative touch. He traced her bottom lip with his tongue, nibbling it lightly, reveling in the sweet sounds it elicited from her. To his surprise, she responded eagerly, lifting one hand to tangle in his hair and the other bunching in his coat, tugging him closer as she timidly opened her mouth and brushed her tongue against his own.
The feeling it set off inside them both was shocking. Their skin electrified wherever they touched, sending jolts spiraling through their bodies with each tiny brush of contact. Aoshi bit back a groan as Misao excitedly tugged a little on his hair, the pleasure pain driving his senses wild. Gently leaning her back against the pillows, he let one hand stroke down from her cheek to caress her neck and then further, sliding to the curve of her breast and it was like she was on fire in so many places she couldn't even hope to put them all out. Instinctively, she arched against him, wanting more of his touch, but the movement jarred and stretched the injury she had already worsened with her impromptu exercise session. Crying out, she wrenched away from him, doubling over to hold her stomach.
'Misao?'
His voice was concerned, worried he might have done something to overexert her, but even through her sudden pain she could hear the slight crack in his voice, breathless. It made heat coil in the pit of her stomach to know that it was her who had broken his incredible control.
Gently pulling her hands away from her middle, Aoshi saw flecks of blood through the bandages wrapped around it. A crease appeared between his eyes as he looked up at her.
'You've ripped your stitches. Again. I'll get Hannya.'
Without another word, he got up from the bed and headed back towards the door. Just as he was about to slip out, he paused, back to her and spoke in his usual even tone.
'We will continue this later.'
She sighed and flopped back against the pillows as he left the room, pressing a finger to her lips in awe at what had just happened. If she was dreaming she never wanted to wake up.
'Oh, by the way, I was coming to inform you that Kaoru has regained consciousness,' Aoshi said, appearing back in the doorway.
Misao was too joyful to notice the way his eyes dropped to the finger still inadvertently touching her lips.
'I want to see her,' she called after him as he left.
'Only after your stitches have been redone, Koi,' he called back.
Her eyes widened at the endearment, a blush suffusing her cheeks.
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Kaoru was numb, the sedative the nurse had injected her with seeming to have sucked not just the pain but all feeling from her system. Lifting her hand, she watched how slowly it rose to meet her face and huffed a laugh. She supposed another word for the way she was feeling was "high".
She felt her pillow vibrate behind her. Frowning, she forced her brain to concentrate. She was sure pillows weren't supposed to do that. Carefully, she lolled her head back against it and was glad she'd been cautious. It was harder than she'd imagined. Hospitals were even worse than she'd thought.
When her eyes opened, and she was almost definite she hadn't closed them, she looked into deep, roiling gold.
'Oh,' she breathed, reaching out to touch. 'So pretty.'
She felt more than saw the smile beneath her fingers as they slipped down across her pillow's face.
'Thank you, Koneko, your eyes are pretty too.'
A deep baritone rumbled against her and she sighed.
'You're here,' she whispered.
The pillow tensed beneath her and she petted it absently.
'Don't worry, it is not for long.'
A hand brushed her hair away from her face, tracing the line of her jaw. '
I will not be hurting you for much longer, Koneko. I just need to know you are safe.'
She hummed softly and rested her head into the crook of its neck.
'Koneko, Misao is alive. When you wake, she will come to see you.'
'Shush now, pillow, I want to sleep,' she grumbled, swiping weakly at it.
With that, she dozed off to the steady shake of her pillow against her.
For the first time in a very long while, Kaoru woke feeling rested. Her body still ached, but her mind was clear, allowing her finally to process all that had happened. The hiding, the kidnapping, the hideous marriage and the fact that Misao was gone, she remembered all this, and the pain should be terrible, yet, somehow she didn't feel the same loss as she had.
She supposed it had something to do with her dream. She thought she'd woken to find Battousai holding her, laughing at her inebriated behaviour. He'd told her Misao was alive. Deep down she knew it was just a sedative addled hallucination, but a part of her clung to it with the desperation of a drowning woman. If she let go of her life raft she wasn't sure she would be able to come back.
Opening her eyes, Kaoru found herself staring at the top of a head of brown messy hair. Yahiko? Surprised, she poked it gently with the tip of her finger and the boy griped, shuffling away from her touch.
'I wouldn't do that Jou-chan. The kid's head is a little delicate right now.'
Sano was lounging across a couple of chairs arm strapped to his chest in a sling and a big grin spread across his face. It was the kind of smile that made her want to laugh and cry at the same time, full of affection, mischief and relief. He'd been worried about her.
'How you doing, Jou-chan? Life not treating you too badly I see.'
He looked pointedly at her big white hospital bed, flowers and food practically swamping it.
'Think I'd like a bit of this treatment myself.'
Kaoru chuckled and waved a hand at it.
'Go on, you're welcome to it.'
This seemed to be all he was waiting for. Bouncing to his feet, he raced over to the bed and began pawing at the food seeming unable to decide what to eat first. In his eagerness, he knocked Yahiko's shoulder, jostling his head and forcing the boy awake.
'Sano!' He growled tiredly, gingerly rubbing a hand over his hair as he slid his chair away from the overexcited man-child.
Kaoru stopped halfway through a fit of giggles, Sano's earlier words sinking in, her eyes narrowing as she took in what he was doing.
'Sano, what did you mean Yahiko's head was "delicate"?'
At the tone of her voice both men froze. There was a pregnant pause during which Kaoru could somehow never quite catch either one's eye. Yahiko shifted uncomfortably in his seat and elbowed Sano in the ribs.
'Oi, Dufus, if you're going to wake me up you might as well share some of that,' he grouched, grabbing the doughnut Sano was holding halfway to his mouth.
Kaoru was not going to let the boys' bickering distract her, however, snatching the food just before Sano could lunge for it and crushing it in her fist. Disregarding the cry of outrage that burst from them both, she glared at them.
'Spill it!'
Sano groaned softly, running a hand resignedly through his scruffy locks. He told Kaoru everything that had happened, although conveniently playing down his childish squabble with Chou.
'So while I was holding off like ten guards,' he exclaimed, enthusiastically waving his hands around to recreate the scene and handily ignoring the snort of derision from Yahiko's direction. 'Yahiko set the explosives and we escaped, but he hit his head, so, you know, probably best not to hit him too hard in this area here.'
Sano circled an area above Yahiko's head and the boy slapped his hand away.
'Shut up, Tori-Atama,' he growled absently, too busy peering nervously at Kaoru to care about Sano's idiocy.
She was staring down at her hands, hair falling forwards to shield her expression from him. The silence made him edgy. Kaoru was never quiet. She blustered, badgered and browbeat, sometimes even resorting to physical violence, but she was never quiet, not when she had something like this to be angry about.
'Kaoru?' He asked, leaning forwards just a little.
For a moment there was no response. Then slowly her head turned to look at him. Skidding back in his chair, he felt Sano join him in his retreat. Kaoru looked like something out of a horror movie, skin pale, eyes flaring with something almost evil, shadowed by long dark hair. She wasn't just angry, she was incandescent, so furious she couldn't even form words.
'Jou-chan.'
Sano raised his one free hand, gaze flickering around the room for some form of weapon.
'There's no need for violence. We can talk this out, right?'
When there was still no reply, he yanked Yahiko's chair in front of him. The boy struggled viciously, but he held him down by the shoulders.
'Take him then, Jou-chan, he's the one who insisted on going.'
With that, Sano shoved Yahiko forwards and dove for the door at lightning speed.
'Son of a…! This is the last time I save your cowardly ass, Sano! Traitorous bastard!' Yahiko screamed after him as the door banged the wall with the force of his exit.
Hesitantly, he raised his head up from his sprawl against the bed, eyes screwed shut in preparation for the hell that was about to rain down.
'How's your head?'
He opened one eye and found Kaoru watching him calmly. What was happening? He was expecting a tongue-lashing the likes of which the world had never seen but instead she was asking after his health?
'I…It's better. Hurt like hell the first few days. The doctors were a bit worried `cause I was getting these headaches but I have the all clear.'
She continued to stare at him for a minute and he shuffled under her look.
'Don't ever do something like this again.'
Her tone was level, steel lining her words, brooking no arguments.
'I was trying to save you!' He protested incredulously. 'I wasn't just going to sit around and wait for you to die!'
Snarling her anger, Kaoru grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forwards until he was half lying on the bed beside her.
'And how would I have felt if you died, huh? How would I have felt if I woke up and found you dead too?'
She shook him violently, tears coursing down her cheeks and splashing onto her hospital robe. Yahiko gawked at her in shock. He'd never seen her like this, sobs racking her body, eyes wild with fear.
'Kaoru?' He probed, horrified. 'What do you mean "too"? Who else has died?'
She could barely see past her tears, the room and his face swimming and blurring. Did Yahiko not know? She brushed at his hair, gently stroking the bump that had almost disappeared. She didn't want do break it to him like this, not after everything he'd been through too, but he had to know.
'Misao is gone, Yahiko!' She wept quietly. 'She's gone.'
Yahiko looked at her in confusion. He'd seen the Itachi just yesterday and even with her injury she was just as lively and annoying as ever. Pulling on Kaoru's hands where they were still clutching his clothes, he forced her attention to him.
'Misao's fine, Kaoru. She spent all day yesterday trying to catch me off guard and poke me in the head.'
She shook her head hard, trying to stifle her pain and worry so that she could make him understand. Perhaps the doctors had missed some serious repercussion to his head injury.
'No, she died, Yahiko! Shishio told me he'd killed her.'
A polite cough from the door caught their attention and they turned to see Aoshi.
'Perhaps I can help clear up this misunderstanding.'
He turned to maneuver something into the room and Kaoru wiped her eyes to clear the mirage.
'Did someone mention me? My ears are burning.'
Misao beamed from her wheelchair.
The air stuck in Kaoru's lungs and she stared at her friend, taking in every living, breathing nuance of her body. She looked haggard, pale, her gown bulging at the torso with the bandages that had been wrapped around her waist, but somehow she was still Misao. Kaoru could sense the energy vibrating through her body despite the fact that it was only a glimmer of what it had been. She didn't care. Her best friend was sitting in front of her, alive.
'Took you long enough to come round, Lazy,' Misao snipped. 'I was up and about weeks ago and I took a katana to the chest! You only had a measly bullet!'
The constricting pain around Kaoru's heart eased, grief and guilt sliding off her shoulders like silk gliding off skin. This time it was tears of relief that stung the backs of her eyes.
Choking on a laugh, she blinked hard.
'Sorry,' she whispered.
Misao prodded Aoshi and clicked her tongue at him like a rider to a horse, pointing towards the bed. Kaoru suddenly realised that the rollercoaster of emotion must have tipped her over the edge because she knew for a fact she couldn't possibly have just seen Aoshi Shinomori smile as he wheeled the chirpy young woman over to sit beside her.
'You should be.'
They practically fell into each other's arms, hugging tightly or what either of them could manage of it. It ended up being more hand and arm squeezing than anything else, but they clung together as though letting go would make everything shatter and disintegrate around them.
No one did anything for long, peaceful instants and then Yahiko huffed grumpily, breaking the spell.
'Oh, come on! She comes and sees you, and you go all mushy. I come and I get a poke in the head, a rattled brain and a lecture! No fair!'
Kaoru sniffed, laughing softly and Misao turned on him, swiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.
'Shut up, little boy, the adults are talking,' she teased, sticking her tongue out at him childishly.
'Who are you calling little, Pipsqueak?'
Kaoru watched, smiling fondly as they quarreled. Misao expertly twirled her wheelchair round and rammed Yahiko in the shins. Squawking his indignation, Yahiko grabbed for her, but stumbled forward, clasping only thin air as she rolled quickly back out of his reach. Shaking her head, Kaoru looked up and caught Aoshi observing their shenanigans with as much affectionate amusement as she, though the only sign was the slight crinkle at the sides of his mouth and eyes.
Watching him reminded her of the last missing piece of her warped, confusing puzzle. She needed to know the whole truth of what had happened so that she could put this all to rest, so she could move on.
'Aoshi.'
He turned his ice blue eyes to her and her words faltered. She knew he hadn't betrayed her, knew he wouldn't, so formulating her question was difficult.
'I… need you to explain… I heard…'
He nodded understanding implicitly what she wanted to know.
'Battousai and I had a plan for your protection. It is a little complicated,' he said, his face emotionless but eyes twinkling. 'I informed Kanryu and Shishio that Battousai was stalking you because he had heard of their plan. I promised to keep you away from him until they could deal with the situation and then deliver you to them for a fee once it was over. It kept them off our backs while Battousai and I searched for Makoto's location. Unfortunately, Shishio changed his mind and sent Soujiro to retrieve you without informing me. You remember that night?'
Kaoru nodded, feeling a little sick at the memory. Misao had almost died for the first time that night. Aoshi returned her gaze with his own solemn one, both remembering.
'He had become impatient, wishing to carry out his plan as soon as possible, and decided he could handle the Battousai if and when the time came. We decided you would be safer with Battousai but I still needed to be able to infiltrate their organisation to find Shishio's compound so we staged your kidnap. Sadly, I did not factor in a certain stubborn friend of yours.'
They both turned to look at the still squabbling pair by the window and smiled. Misao was a firecracker.
'You know the rest.'
Yes, she knew the rest. A wave of happiness washed over her, tingling through her fingers and warming cold places that hadn't felt the heat in a long time. Clutching at her heart, a sob broke from her throat without warning. Everyone was safe, happy and there was nothing left, at least for now, to hurt them.
Yahiko and Misao immediately stopped their arguing, flapping round her bed trying to work out what the matter was. Tittering through her waterworks, she waved them off, a flash of red drawing her eyes back to the door where Kenshin stood propped against the wall. His shirt, opened at the collar, was wrinkled from the nap he'd gone to take in one of the staff's on call rooms and his hair was a mess. Holding a cup of coffee in one hand, a gentle look softened his face as he surveyed the scene.
Don't worry, it is not for much longer. I will not be hurting you for much longer, Koneko.
Kaoru's soggy smile faltered as they looked at each other. If her dream had been right about Misao, was it right about this? Was he leaving her?
Author's Note: Alrighty, folks! As always read and review! If you make me happy enough (and we all know lots of nice comments make me very, very happy) maybe I'll let you take my lemon virginity in the next chapter!