Title: Bitter Betrayal, Sweet Surrender
Authors: Buffybot76 & profiler120
Email: firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com
Disclaimer: Any and all characters belong to Watsuki-sensei. We own nothing but the plot of this fic. We also do this not for profit, but to show my appreciation for the wonderful anime/manga that is Rurouni Kenshin. Please don't sue.
Summary: A Blanket Scenario fic
Author's note: This is a collaboration between myself (Buffybot76) and my friend (profiler120). Please go easy on us and please keep in mind that this will basically be PWP, so no flames.
Misao walked out of the temple as if in a daze. Her eyes were glazed over, her mouth hanging open a bit in reaction to the sight she had just witnessed. Aoshi-sama? With Omasu? *And* Okon!? Her mind was in a whirl, she was so hurt and confused by the revelation that she didn't really have any sense of direction. She could only wander aimlessly, as if in a trance.
The night sky was sprinkled with stars, but the moon was nowhere to be seen, leaving the area doused in a blanket of darkness. She stumbled over something hidden beneath the thick layer of snow that lay on the ground. A tree root perhaps? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Everything that mattered had been shattered in a scant moment. The hurt and betrayal wore down a bit eventually as her sense of reality kicked back in. As did her body's senses telling her she was madly hungry. Hunger wasn't the only thing plaguing her - the hurt hadn't lessened but it dimmed in light of her anger. How dare he! The bastard, how dare he?!
She tried to block the mental images that came to her mind unbidden, but failed miserably. How dare he do such a thing in the temple. Not only that, but with someone other than *her*! Being so flagrantly carnal, and with Omasu *and* Okon! Both of them! Kyyah! It was... It was... crushing.
She'd never speak to them again. Any of them. How could they betray her like that? The minute her back was turned they jumped on Aoshi-sama. Not that he was fighting it, she thought, recalling a very naked Aoshi. The image made her shudder in disgust. Funny how she had always longed to see Aoshi's body free of his clothes. But when she had, it had been during a sight which had caused her stomach to turn. She scowled, barely reeling in the urge to throw her kunai at something.... preferably Okon and Omasu.
Thoughts of the traitorous oniwabanshuu members aside, where was she, anyway? She reluctantly admitted to herself that rushing off into an oncoming snowstorm was stupid. Her mind had been in so deep a state of shock that she had not noticed the bite of the chilly air, nor the dampness of the snow that was falling, seeping into the material of her uniform.
Stupid Aoshi, this was somehow all his fault, she thought irritably. Her fingers were going numb, she realized, and tucked them close to her body. Where was she going to go in this snow? Although tempted, she wouldn't go back. Not to the Aoyia. Not that she had anywhere else to go to. She should've taken the path to town instead of veering off towards the woods. Now she was hoplessly lost in the wilderness. Each step was a painful thing. Her clothing was becoming stiff in the cold, her skin was losing feeling. She could no longer feel her nose, ears and toes. Yes, this was bad.
She knew she was really in trouble when her vision began to blur. She could barely see and it wasn't because of the falling snow. Her steps became painful. So painful that she soon stopped walking at all. Slumping against the hard frozen trunk of a tree, Misao crumpled onto her knees, doubling over in an attempt to create some kind of warmth. It was a horrible time to cry, her tears wetting her face as she tried to absorb her own body heat. Her grip slowly slackened as her head became light. Her grip on reality seemed to be dimming. She only realized she'd fallen over into the snow when her head began to get cold. The snow under her head melted, soaking into her hair, further chilling her. She closed her eyes, not wanting to face the harsh reality she'd put herself in. What a way to die, she thought.
As her mind drifted she thought she heard the distinct 'crunch' of footsteps in the snow. Was someone walking? Was she imagining things? Why couldn't she dispell the imgae of Aoshi and the others out of her head? That thought was the last thing to pass through her mind as Misao slipped into the depths of unconsciousness.
The sound of snow crunching beneath heavy foot falls drew nearer to the location of Misao's prone body. Soon a shadow fell across the half frozen girl as the person approached. Two newly polished boots gleamed in the slick, wet snow as the owner stopped by the fallen female. Long, lean legs bent at the knees and a set of white gloved hands reached for the girl sprawled out in the snow. Tugging off one of the gloves, the man reached down, snaking the hand beneath the wet material shifted up by her neck to feel for her pulse. Discovering one, the hand was pulled back, the white glove once more slid back on. Gripping the dark colored fabric, he gently pulled her up and shifted underneath her to support her weight as she was pulled against the tall, male figure as he rose to his feet.
Saitou Hajime shifted the girl closer to his body, both to harvest her body heat and to help block them both from the wind. His eyes flickered about his surroundings. If he was correct--and he knew he was--there should be an abandoned cabin in the near vicinity. He was sure that if the little weasel had been able to go just a few more yards south, she would have found it herself. But no, she had to succumb to the cold, leaving him the pleasure of packing her slight form on to the shelter.
Shifting the girl once more, Saitou began to stalk through the snow in the direction he knew the cabin lay. His thoughts centered on what she was doing out here in the cold without proper attire. Surely her babysitters at the Aoyia would have nagged her about dressing. Which meant she'd run off on a whim most likely, probably about something with that ice block Shinomori. She was so utterly predictable sometimes it was startling given her random nature. So, weasel got upset with Shinomori, ran off into the snow like an idiot and here he was stuck hauling her around. That figured about right.
Finally reaching the cabin, Saitou walked to the door and groaned when he remembered his hands were otherwise occupied. Rolling his eyes, Saitou growled before using his left foot to kick the door in. The door, which had been rather rickety anyway, flew open, almost unhinging as it slammed against the wall. Saitou strode in and, using his foot again, closed the door back behind him. Looking around, Saitou took in the shape that the old cabin was in. It hadn't been lived in in awhile, that was for sure.
It was sparcely furnished. Only an old futon lay in the middle of the one room shack, with a table off to the right side. There were cracks in the walls that allowed the cold blasts of winter air to drift through. The damage he'd just caused to the door only added to the drafts in the cabin.
He straightened after depositing the shivering female onto the old futon mat. It certainly wasn't luxurious but it was warmer than being in the snow, he thought looking around. He turned his eyes back to the girl before him. He certainly hadn't counted on finding her. Then again, he very rarely actually *planned* on running into the weasel. Nine times of ten she just showed up randomly to rain chaos.
He traced his eyes over her trembling form. Well, the clothes would have to go, he thought. They were thoroughly soaked and she would surely succumb completely to the cold if they weren't removed soon. He peered around wondering if there were any way around undressing her, although it would be fun once she woke up and found herself... 'unclothed'. He grinned. Maybe he should snatch her clothes just to piss her off.
He shifted, taking a cursory glance around. He had brought his cigarettes, hadn't he? He patted his pockets and pulled them out victoriously before setting them aside on the single side table in the room. He scoffed. An old, broken down table, an old futon mat and... what was that dark heap over there? He walked over and picked it up. A blanket, well that was one positive point. He shook it once, taking note of its lack of cleanliness with a frown. It couldn't be helped though. He walked back over peering over the ninja girl once more wondering where to start.
He glanced at her feet, how did those things come off? He slid his hands down her legs, feeling the wet material. He pulled and the material gave way. It was wound around her legs? Shaking his head, Saitou unbound the material with a frown. Her clothes were a hassle already. Just like her, he thought. Always coming up with ways to annoy somebody.
He finally wrangled the dark damp wrappings off her leg and moved to the other. Already he felt like he needed a cigarette. He followed the same slipping off her shoes and then the socks covering her feet. He tossed the soggy articles of clothing to the side. She was not well enough dressed for this weather, he thought off handedly, feeling her cold feet against his hands. Any longer outside and she would have ended up with frostbite.
He turned his eyes up, there was still that brightly colored sash at her waist covering that dark blue vested covering, and beneath it a long sleeved black shirt. He reached up, shifting her weight forward to yank loose the limp bow and pull away the sash, dropping it with her other wet things on the floor beside him. He pulled open the cloth, glad this was a bit thicker, hands falling flat against her abdomen a moment. She felt more powerful than she looked, he thought with the firmly toned skin beneath his hands. He could feel it even through the cloth.
He wondered, briefly, what was beneath the dark colored shirt and pants even though he was very close to discovering such first hand. His thoughts wandered. He was doing this to keep her warm, he told himself, to keep her from getting sick. But perfectly logical reasons aside, he was damn curious what she kept hidden beneath her clothes. He slid his hands to her waist, gathering the material and sliding it up slowly laying his palms flat as he did so.
She was soft. He licked his lips apprehensively. Damn, if he was letting weasel girl get to him, he'd been entirely too work oriented lately. He was tempted to tear the thing off and stop with all this odd hesitation plaguing him but that would wake her and he definitely didn't want her awake. Yet.
He grinned cockily. He wanted her awake later though, he thought. Her chest was covered with tight bindings like around her legs but of an off white color, and they were wet as well. Damn. Pulling up the material, he let it pool just over her chest while he paused to snake her arms out of their sleeves. Once done he slipped it over her head and dropped it into the growing pile. He glanced down at the said pile making a note to get the clothes as far away from the futon as could before she woke. He chuckled weakly to himself, oh this would be fun.