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Anime/Manga » Rurouni Kenshin » White Tiger, Jade Concubine
Midori Natari Himura
Author of 18 Stories |
Disclaimer: All Rurouni Kenshin characters are property of Watsuki Nobuhiro. I claim nothing more than the storyline and any original characters. Any resemblance to actual events or to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Also, this story was by no means intended to be historically accurate. I’ve done enough research to try to make it realistic and feasible to the time period, but, whether intentional or not, there will most likely be mistakes and/or discrepancies.
A/N: Well, it has definitely been a while. Forgive me if I’m a bit rusty. Regarding the preceding chapters, I have re-read them all and I am aware that there are numerous typos, etc, but I will state now for the record that I have no intention of going back to fix them all. Let’s put the blame on pure laziness. With work and my new house, I don’t have the time or motivation to revise this entire story. Suffice it to say that I am aware that the story is far from grammatically perfect. Heh. Also, just to point it out for anyone who might be new to White Tiger, I refer to Misao as having green eyes in the story. My reasoning behind this is quite simple—when I first started writing this story, my only exposure to RK was through the anime and the online translations. (Yes, I am an old school fan and watched it long before it came to Cartoon Network and before the translated manga was released in the U.S.) In the anime, Misao’s eyes looked green to me most of the time, and despite the fact that I know that her eyes are blue in the manga, I don’t intend on going back to change that either. So please bear with me. For the purposes of this story, her eyes will stay green.
Anyway, I know this chapter has certainly taken a long time in coming. Over three years, in fact. Sorry about that immense cliffhanger. To any loyal fans who remain, and to all of the people who have emailed me in support over the years, this one’s for you…
Chapter 18: Uninvited
The name seemed to resound endlessly in the moonlit courtyard. Misao felt panic swell in her stomach and tighten her chest. Her throat constricted and her mouth was suddenly dry as the desert.
Aoshi was standing stock-still, as if he had been carved from marble, but she could feel the cool burn of his gaze upon her face and struggled for something, anything, to say. He had seen—he must have seen—her kiss Enishi. What was he thinking? His face was expressionless and his azure-colored eyes were hard as ice and equally cold.
Misao opened her mouth to speak, unsure of what she wanted to say, of how she could possibly explain…
What must he be thinking of her? She couldn’t imagine. Her stomach was writhing and twisting upon itself. The idea of what Aoshi might be thinking, and the possibility of him condemning her, made her feel physically ill. Not too long ago, Enishi had been their enemy. Her enemy. How would Aoshi view her now?
The seconds dragged into an eternity. Both men stood rigid, like tigers ready to spring, and before she could even find her voice, Enishi took one step forward, deliberate menace radiating from him as if he were a predator stalking its prey.
The fear that went through Misao in that moment somehow broke her paralysis and she flinched, startled by Enishi’s movement. If they fought now, one of them would surely die.
She swallowed thickly, looking away from Aoshi in an attempt to gather her thoughts. She had to stop them. Their fight would be a fight to the death, of that she was certain, and she couldn’t bear the thought of either one of them coming to injury, let alone dying.
In that moment, as her thoughts tripped over themselves and her heart raced in a panicked staccato, she saw a flicker of light from one of the upstairs windows of the house out of the corner of her eye. Mei…
All at once, her trepidation fled, doused like a meager candle flame in a maelstrom, and her mind was filled with an eerie sense of calm.
This couldn’t happen— not here, not now. There was far too much at risk— months of careful planning, her true identity, everything they had been working for…
“No!” She hardly recognized the strength and composure of her voice.
Enishi froze, his turquoise eyes focused on Aoshi with calculating intensity. Aoshi wasn’t looking at Enishi, though. He was looking at her with eyes that burned like cold, blue fire.
Misao found that she couldn’t hold his gaze, and instead focused on the collar of his long, white trench coat.
“A-Aoshi-sama,” she said, the name feeling unfamiliar after all of these months. “I don’t know how you found me, or why, but you’ll have to believe me when I say that I’m here of my own free will.” She paused, taking a deep breath, and praying that this unnatural calm wouldn’t fail her. “I’m sure you don’t understand any of this…but I can’t explain. Not now. It could be dangerous for all of us.”
The tall, pale ninja said nothing in reply, nor did he look away.
Misao licked her lips, the gesture more reflexive than nervous. “I’ll be happy to explain…in the morning…”
After a tense moment, Aoshi acquiesced with a slight nod. The silence was so thick it was nearly stifling.
“Where can I meet you?” Misao asked, some of her earlier nervousness returning as Ran materialized from the shadows besides Aoshi.
The ninja spared him only the briefest glance before his gaze caught and held Misao’s.
In that moment, her heart clenched and threatened to break. His face was as impassive as ever, but there was something there, something seething just below the surface, an unnamed emotion so palpable that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.
“Wh-Where should I meet you?” she repeated shakily, wrenching her eyes away from his as the pseudo-calm that had overtaken her began to waver.
“The White Dragon.” His voice was flat, but it struck her like a slap across the face.
As her lower lip began to tremble, Misao bit down hard to stop it, eyes drifting closed as pain washed through her. Please…please…I can’t stand this…
“Miss Misao?”
She jumped at the sound of Ran’s voice and her eyelids snapped open, gaze immediately flying to the spot where Aoshi had been.
He was gone.
It was as if his mind could not process the scene that it had just witnessed. The murderous rage that had filled his body at seeing Misao, his love, in the arms of that madman had shocked him to the very core. A quiet fury unlike anything he had ever experienced had throbbed in his temples and made a muscle in his jaw tick.
He had battled down that surge of green-eyed anger, of course. Giving into such an emotion would have been completely against his nature…but never in his life had he been so tempted to strike someone down. And this time it wasn’t for a title, or for some false sense of glory. This time he would have been driven to act solely on an irrational, jealous impulse. He didn’t like it. He didn’t welcome it. This feeling was part of the reason he had maintained his distance from Misao for so long. He had never wanted to care, never wanted to be that close to another human being, to open himself up to the potential pain and suffering that might accompany such an act. But he had no defense against Misao. She had worked her way under his skin, into his heart, long before this jaded cynicism had become so deeply engraved into his personality. It was one of the reasons he had left her as a child. He had wanted to protect her— from the world, from himself—both then and now.
Her departure from the Aoiya had made him realize, however, that the time to act was upon him. She was older, which meant that she wanted and needed something more than the brotherly affection she had received from him thus far. If he chose not to act, he might be faced with the prospect of losing her. The possibility had formed in his mind as she got older, of course, but it had never seemed so real until this moment. At first it had sounded softly in his mind like distant thunder, but that low rumble had become a full-fledged roar at seeing her in Enishi’s arms. And it would be a lie not to admit that it had ignited a slow, burning sadness in his heart.
He wondered briefly about her relationship with Enishi. He knew that Misao was completely unpretending, but despite her claim that she was there of her own free will, he feared that she was probably acting under some form of coercion. Perhaps she did not know it herself, but given Enishi’s manipulative nature, he could not ignore the possibility.
Whatever the situation, it was clear that she had become involved in something beyond his current understanding. Without knowing the details, he could not decide on an appropriate course of action. He would have to wait for her explanation before coming to any sort of decision. It pained him, though, to think about the dangerous situation she might be embroiled in; however, no matter what the circumstances were, he was prepared to do whatever needed to be done to protect her. And a deeper, nearly subconscious part of himself could not help but feel guilty and full of regret. If only…If only he had acted sooner, he knew that she would have never left.
A sting of pain in his left hand drew his attention and he realized that the thick glass he was holding was threatening to shatter from the force of his grip. He set it down with a sound of disgust, eyeing the silk handkerchief that Misao had tied around his hand to bind his cut from earlier. The sight of it reminded him of the way she had reached for his uninjured hand in the carriage afterward and their interrupted kiss in the courtyard.
He couldn’t comprehend the desperate wave of yearning that had flooded his body at the first contact of her soft lips, but in that moment he’d wanted to consume her, to merge their bodies and draw her into himself. His need for her had been like physical pain. And he knew that it had all resulted from his encounter with Tsung.
He hadn’t expected his meeting with the triad leader to make him so uneasy, but instead of feeling satisfied at the realization that his plan was working—that it was, in fact, probably working a little too well—he had felt suddenly apprehensive. The sense of foreboding he had been feeling over the last few weeks returned full-force and for the first time he had felt worried—not for himself, but for Misao.
He hadn’t had any nightmares since the night Misao had finally called him by his given name, but he had never been able to fully escape the ominous feeling the dream had brought with. Tsung seemed to be completely enamored with Ling Jade, but Enishi found it impossible to be pleased by this fact. Seeing the depth of Tsung’s desire for Misao’s alias filled him with dread. He knew that the man was dangerous and ruthless, and now that he wanted Misao he would stop at nothing to have her.
When the idea for this plan had formed in his mind, he had been indifferent to Misao. She had meant nothing more to him than any of the other people he had used as pawns throughout his life. Whether she lived or died would have left him unaffected. But so many things had changed since she followed him into that cold forest all those months ago. He could no longer accurately define his feelings for her. There was lust, stronger than anything he had ever experienced for another woman, and a fierce protectiveness that rivaled what he had felt for his beloved sister.
In the past, Enishi would never have believed that any woman could compare to the cool beauty and grace of his older sister. Tomoe had been the ideal, well-bred young woman—demure, elegant, and polite. In his eyes she had been perfect; however, Misao was almost the exact opposite. She could be loud, temperamental, and she had no reservations about speaking her mind. But in the last few months she had developed from a tomboy to a lady before his eyes, and he found himself completely entrapped by her guileless allure. She wasn’t anything like his sister…and he was startled to realize that he didn’t mind. She was Misao and he could honestly say that he wouldn’t have her any other way.
The door to his office swung open silently and he straightened in his chair, meeting Ran’s wide brown gaze.
“She’s in your rooms,” the guard informed him quietly.
“And how did she seem?”
“Upset.”
Enishi’s mouth thinned in displeasure.
“What shall I do about…him?” Ran inquired in his deceptively delicate voice.
Turquoise eyes darkened to stormy teal. “Nothing for the moment. I need to know what his purpose is for being here.”
The guard nodded his understanding.
“I don’t like the idea of her going to meet him tomorrow,” Enishi said flatly.
“Do you think he’ll try to interfere?”
“Most likely.” Enishi gave an elegant shrug. “If he came all this way for the girl, he doubtless won’t leave without her.” Draining the remaining liquor in his glass, he continued, “Watch her. If she tries to leave, follow her and inform me immediately.”
Ran inclined his head and slipped from the office without another word.
Frowning to himself, the white-haired man leaned back in his chair, his irritable mood taking a turn for the worst. He had expected Misao to be upset, of course. From what he knew, she had loved the saturnine ninja for the majority of her life. Perhaps she still loved him even now. But even if her heart belonged to Shinomori, her body was his. He had been her first lover and for that reason he knew he would never be forgotten. A savage feeling of satisfaction came into him at that thought. Shinomori would never have her as he had. He would never see the wondrous expression that had entered her jewel green eyes as her body had been overtaken by her first orgasm.
Enishi’s smile was slow and cruel. If Shinomori had come to confess his undying love to Misao—he snickered inwardly at the very idea—he was in store for quite a surprise. She was his in body, if not in soul, and Shinomori would discover this eventually.
A sudden thought came to him and his smile faded abruptly. It hadn’t occurred to him until now, but he realized that he and Misao had not taken any sort of precautions over the last couple of weeks. There was a possibility, slim though it may be, that the ninja girl was carrying his child. He ignored the emotion that surged in his belly as he considered this, shocked by the fact that it hadn’t entered his contemplations before. But the explanation for his oversight was simple. The usual women of his acquaintance were the sort who knew how to prevent, or rid themselves of, an unwanted child. In the past, he’d never had to concern himself with such things.
Silently, he cursed himself for his lack of foresight. Given Misao’s inexperience, it had been his responsibility to educate her. Sighing, he raked long fingers through tousled white hair. The chances of her being with child were slim. If she wasn’t, his thoughtlessness didn’t matter anyway. He would just have to ensure that they were more careful in the future…that was, if their physical relationship didn’t come to an end because of Shinomori’s sudden appearance. But if she was carrying his child…
He shoved that thought away brutally, slamming a fist onto the polished mahogany of his desk.
“Damn you, Misao,” he muttered in a furious whisper. Damn her for making him weak, for making him think about things he’d rather ignore…
Damn her for making him feel.
Moving over to the bed, she slipped under the soft coverlet and pulled the thick velvet curtains shut. Even in the complete blackness they provided, she couldn’t get the vision of Aoshi stepping out of the shadows, pale-faced and ethereally beautiful, out of her mind. He had looked like a dark angel in the moonlight, wispy black bangs partially shading his ice-blue eyes. So many feelings had passed through her in that instant—shock, happiness, fear, love, hope…even hate. She had hardly known how to react. God only knew how she had managed to maintain that false calm long enough for him to leave.
A part of her had wanted to rush to his side as she always had, to follow him back to his hotel, or to the end of the world, if need be. But that was what she had been doing all her life. She was always following him somewhere, one step behind. And so the stronger part of herself had kept her feet rooted in that courtyard, had made her follow Ran into the house, had allowed her to ignore Mei’s malicious, silver-eyed stare as they passed each other in the hall. It had propelled her into Enishi’s room and even now it carefully held the tears that burned in the back of her eyes at bay.
If she could pick one word to describe her current emotional state, it would be confused. Hope warred reality. Love fought hate. Happiness battled fear. She couldn’t say exactly what she was frightened of. Perhaps she was apprehensive about the following morning and the explanations Aoshi would almost certainly demand. Perhaps it was the ambiguity of her relationship with Enishi and how Aoshi’s appearance might change whatever it was that they had. Perhaps it was the idea that her dreams had come true at last, that Aoshi had come to confess his love, but now she felt indecisive as to whether or not she still loved him as she once had.
Without warning, her thoughts turned to Enishi and the desperate need she had felt in his kiss…the kiss that Aoshi had witnessed. But in that moment, when neither one of them had been aware of his presence, her body had reacted to that need. She had melted against him and kissed him back with equal fervor. The flood of emotion she had felt from him then, the tenderness in his hands as they cradled her face, had filled her heart with the sweetest ache. And she had known, in that instant, that she needed him as much as he needed her.
But was it more than physical need that drew them together? She loved their talks and his dry, sarcastic humor. She admired his immeasurable self-confidence…even if his arrogance still annoyed her on occasion. She adored the lean, graceful lines of his body and the intensity of his turquoise eyes. She liked the fact that when she was wrapped in his arms she felt safe and protected. Not that she needed to be protected, of course, but that feeling of security was something she had always craved. Never mind the fact that until recently she had wanted it from someone else.
Closing her eyes, Misao snuggled deeper under the covers and tried to banish any and all thought. It seemed, however, that her mind and heart were conspiring against her. Images of Enishi and Aoshi swirled in her brain, depriving her of any sort of rest. She tormented herself about Aoshi and why he had come. She worried about Enishi and what he might be thinking. She wondered if he was as perplexed by their relationship as she was. She agonized about if and when her feelings for Aoshi had changed. But, most importantly of all, she tortured herself with the question of whether or not she had somehow managed to fall in love with Enishi…and whether or not he could ever love her back. And, if so, how could she ever possibly explain all of this to Aoshi…and Himura…and Kaoru…?
As the fire died into embers, she finally allowed her tears to fall. Not for the first time since she had arrived in Shanghai, Misao was unable to sleep.
His memory of her faded in comparison to the young woman who approached with graceful movements, her chin held high, emanating a mixture of both confidence and sensuality. He had known, of course, that she would eventually blossom from a girl to a young woman…but he had not quite realized how beautiful she would be.
Her night-dark hair shone brilliantly in the sunlight, falling well passed her waist in a gleaming sweep of black. Even from this distance, he could see the clear green of her eyes and the flawless alabaster of her skin.
The emerald color of her cloak suited her, he decided, as did the form-fitting cheongsam he could see beneath. Her reed-thin body had filled in, and there were gentle curves where there had not been before. She looked…stunning.
He was at a loss as to what had spurred this change. She carried herself with such poise, the girlish bounce in her step gone, replaced by a sultry switch in her hips. She moved like a woman.
Perhaps this change, this newly developed sophistication, could be attributed to Yukishiro, the frost-haired man who had nearly destroyed Himura Kenshin, or perhaps it was simply the result of her travels. He hoped it was the latter. He hesitated to think about what violent act he might be impelled to commit if it was the former. If Yukishiro had touched her…if he had taken her innocence…
Aoshi forcefully pushed that thought away. It was not as if he could ask her such a thing, no matter how much he might want to. He feared his reaction as much as her answer.
It was almost unbearable to have traveled all this way, to have searched all this time, only to find his beloved in another man’s arms. In his arms. The man had no morals, no scruples. He took, he used, he toyed with people’s lives and emotions. He was not deserving of a woman like Misao. After all the suffering he had caused, he did not deserve…
With a slight frown, Aoshi banished these thoughts. Yukishiro Enishi was a man who had sought revenge for the wrongs committed against him, while he had betrayed his clan, the man who had raised him, the girl he had always loved, for a title that he could have never truly owned. He had caused her pain; he had brought her misery and grief. In reality, he was in no position to judge. His rational side informed him of this. But he knew that rationality rarely came into play when emotions were involved.
As Misao neared the entrance of the inn, he turned away from the balcony and strode into his dimly lit room. He needed the few moments he had left to focus his thoughts, for he knew that the upcoming conversation would not be easy…
“Miss Misao?”
The ninja jerked slightly, jade eyes snapping to Ran’s face.
“Will you not enter?”
Blinking, Misao looked away from him, her tongue snaking out to nervously wet her lips. “Of course I will. I was just…thinking.”
Ran nodded, but said nothing.
“Well, then…” Straightening her shoulders, Misao made her way into the inn, pausing briefly to inquire about Aoshi before ascending the steps to second level and locating his room at the end of the hall. She paused to lightly rap on the door, noting the fact that her hand was trembling slightly. As it swung open, she buried her hand in the folds of her emerald cloak to conceal its quivering.
Shadowed green eyes lifted to meet pale azure, and Aoshi stepped aside to allow her into the room without speaking. His gaze made a cursory assessment of Ran before he shut the door with a firm click.
Misao moved to the center of the room without looking back to see if he followed, her eyes focusing on a painted scroll decorating the farthest wall.
“Aoshi-sama,” she said finally, voice unnaturally loud in the silence of the room. “Why…why are you here?”
“I came to find you,” Aoshi stated simply.
Misao closed her eyes briefly and drew in a shaky breath. “Well, yes, but…why?”
The air in the room shifted and her eyelids fluttered open to reveal Aoshi standing before her, his eyes as cold and distant as the stars.
“You’ve been gone for nearly a year. It seemed unlike you not to send any word. Okon and Omasu have been beside themselves with worry.” He could have been discussing the weather for how flat and unemotional his voice sounded. “How is it that you came to be here in Shanghai with Yukishiro? Has he prevented you from contacting us?”
Misao felt defiance lift her chin. Had he come all this way only to scold her? Hadn’t he missed her? Hadn’t he been worried?
“He saved my life.” Simmering jade eyes clashed with frosty blue. “I accompanied him here to repay that debt.”
Aoshi surveyed her for a long, measuring moment before he stepped back, gesturing toward the tray on the floor. “I was just about to have my tea.” He settled himself beside the tray and motioned for her to do the same. “Sit, Misao. Drink some with me.”
Misao hesitated for only the briefest second before she joined him, kneeling primly on the floor with her hands folded in her lap.
Aoshi watched her as he sipped at the warm liquid. This was not the way he had intended to start. He hadn’t meant to chide or upset her. He had let his curiosity about her relationship with Yukishiro get the better of him, and as a result she was now staring at him with mutiny in her eyes. Perhaps it would be better to concentrate on the matter at hand. There would be time for questions later.
“Misao…” the ninja trailed off, uncertain for one of the few times in his life. This was a delicate matter, and the part of him that feared hurting her knew it had to be treated as such. He, who had never been one for sentimentality, now wanted to spare her any unnecessary pain…but the factual, strategic part of his personality knew that it would be best to say what he had come to say outright and without preamble. There was no sense in prolonging the inevitable and, for all the intelligence he possessed, he could not think of a way to lighten the blow. “Okina is dead.”
She stared at him with those deep green eyes, completely caught off guard and at first uncomprehending. Then suddenly her expression crumbled and she shook her head in a jerky motion. “No! It’s a lie!”
Denial screamed inside her. It couldn’t be true. Okina couldn’t be dead. He had been alive and well when she had left the Aoiya all those months ago. He was destined to outlive them all and never lose his lecherous, skirt-chasing ways, no matter how old he became. But she knew…she knew that Aoshi did not lie; it was not in his nature, especially concerning a matter such as this.
A lump had formed in her throat and she swallowed convulsively, staring down at her bone-white hands. Her eyes felt hot and wet with tears she could not contain. They rolled down her cheeks in silver trails and dropped soundlessly onto the emerald-colored silk of her cloak.
“How?” she eventually thought to ask, and looked up at Aoshi, who was observing her with dispassionate blue eyes.
“He fell ill shortly after you left,” Aoshi replied flatly. “He and five others died from a strange stomach ailment. Its origin was traced back to a restaurant in Kyoto. The police decided it was some sort of poison…”
“Poison?” Misao repeated in disbelief as grief threatened to consume her. It was impossible. Someone as strong and vibrant as Jiya, who had been like a second father to her, could never be felled by mere poison. She had always imagined him as indestructible. She had been certain he would die in bed at a ripe old age, wearing his familiar bawdy grin. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s the only logical explanation. There were several others who also took ill, but eventually recovered.”
Misao clenched her fingers into fists to stop her hands from shaking. “Was it…intentional?”
“Yes, but the target was non-specific,” Aoshi answered in his usual, detached manner. “One of the cooks poisoned a pot of a beef stew. He was found dead a few days after people began to fall ill. He had used the poison to take his own life, but in pure, undiluted form, it killed him much more quickly than the others.”
“But, why?” Misao asked, despair warring with her need for an explanation, for some sort of resolution.
“He was in love with the owner’s daughter, but his proposal was refused. We can only assume he did it out of spite, to attain some kind of revenge for being denied. His intention was probably to try to ruin the restaurant’s reputation. In that, he did succeed. After so many people died or became sick, the restaurant was forced to close.”
“What a stupid, selfish reason!” Misao said fiercely, choking back tears. “To involve innocent, unassuming people in some misguided attempt at revenge…how cruel can someone be?”
“You know very well how cruel some people can be,” Aoshi stated coolly, and Misao couldn’t help but wince.
She did know. Enishi had once done something very similar to Himura, to all of them. He had let them believe that Kaoru was dead. He had let them mourn and grieve, and it had all been part of his careful, meticulous plan.
Misao made no reply to Aoshi’s statement, and instead let herself give into the sobs wracking her slender body. She didn’t know how long she cried, and she didn’t care if Aoshi saw it as weakness. The only thing she knew was that sadness was clawing away at her heart…because unlike the situation with Kaoru, there was no impossible hope that Okina might still be alive. There was no way to avenge his death. He was gone…and she hadn’t been there to say good-bye…
It seemed like hours before she could finally regain some semblance of composure. Her fist, which had been pressed against her mouth to muffle the sound of her cries, fell limply to her lap.
“So this is why you came to find me,” she whispered, mostly to herself. Along with the anguish over Okina’s death, an intense feeling of sorrow welled inside her. Aoshi had not come to find her because he missed her, or because he loved her, as some small part of her heart had hoped, but only to bring her this dreadful, unwelcome news. What a fool she had been last night to think that it might be otherwise…
“No!”
Misao’s head jerked up at that short, harsh reply. Aoshi himself looked somewhat surprised by the vehemence of his response, but after a moment, he continued in his normal tone, “I would have to come to find you no matter what the circumstances. Okina’s death simply delayed my departure.”
Misao gave a bitter laugh she hardly recognized as her own. “Of course you would have. To protect me, to bring me back to my family! You would have never had any faith that I could accomplish something by myself!”
“Misao…you misunderstand…” Aoshi’s pale blue eyes were like fire burning in ice. “I have always loved you. Even if Okina were still alive, I would have come for you anyway.”
For several long moments, the ninja girl could do nothing more than stare at him, jade eyes wide in her face. Surely, she had misheard him…he couldn’t have just said that he loved her…that he had always loved her…
“You—“ Misao broke off, meeting Aoshi’s gaze directly. Her breath caught in her throat at what she saw there.
The serene expression that normally graced his beautiful features was present, as always, but it was his eyes that said everything his voice could not. His blue eyes were bright, smoldering with an intensity she had never seen in him before. The way he was looking at her made warmth unfurl in the pit of her belly and spread down her thighs. Enishi had looked at her like that, in the heat of passion, his eyes blazing with desire. But Aoshi…Aoshi had never looked at her like that.
Restraining a shiver, she dropped her eyes from his. She couldn’t handle the potency of that fiery stare. It was too much, and too sudden.
“Come back to Kyoto with me,” Aoshi said, the calm of his voice betraying nothing of the emotion in his eyes. “Your family needs you right now.”
I need you…
The unvoiced thought hung heavily in the air between them. Years ago— months ago—she would have died to have Aoshi look at her like that. But now she felt an unexpected rush of anger.
“I can’t leave right now,” she said tightly, smoothing out the skirt of her cheongsam. “I told you that Enishi saved my life. I have a debt to repay and I’m not leaving until it’s finished.”
“What sort of vow did you make to that man?” Aoshi asked coldly. “He’s not someone to be trusted. He’s probably only using you as a means to an end.”
Misao’s chin came up defiantly. “Well, I do trust him. The vow I made to him does not concern you. The only thing you need to know is that I won’t go back on my word.”
A part of her quailed at speaking to Aoshi like this. She would have never dared to be so bold with him when she was a child. But things were different now. She was different. She was not a little girl to be scolded or ordered around.
Aoshi’s icy blue eyes were narrow. “And what of Okina?”
Misao cringed at his tone and her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. “Jiya…Alive or dead, Jiya would never have wanted me to dishonor myself by breaking my word.” Her jade green eyes were fierce when they rose to meet his. “What would you do in my place? Would you break your word of honor?”
“You can’t make a vow of honor to a man who has none.”
The fury that sprang up inside her frightened Misao, but gave her the courage to continue, “How dare you come here, Aoshi-sama, only to treat me like a silly child? You haven’t changed! Can’t you see that I’m a grown woman? I can make my own decisions, and I will stand by my word, no matter what you think of me, or what you think of Enishi for that matter!”
“Miss Misao? Is everything all right?”
Misao looked at the closed door, startled. She had nearly forgotten that Ran was waiting for her in the hall outside Aoshi’s room. She swallowed, attempting to collect herself before she spoke.
“Everything’s fine, Ran,” she called out hurriedly, afraid that he might burst into the room if she didn’t respond quickly enough. “In fact, I was just leaving…”
She stood, shaking out the folds of her cloak, unnerved by the fact that Aoshi’s steady blue eyes were still focused on her intently.
“I’ll go back to Kyoto once my work here is finished,” she told him quietly, eyes tracing his perfect, pale features one final time before she turned toward the door. “When I pay my respects to Jiya, I’m sure he will understand.”
It was hard for her to walk away from him, especially after everything that had happened, everything that had been said. Her heart and mind seethed in angry turmoil, and beneath all of that, she was reeling— both from the horrible shock of Okina’s death and Aoshi’s unexpected confession of love. When she was younger, she would have given anything, anything, to hear those words. Now they filled her with confusion and a bittersweet sense of longing.
“I won’t leave without you.” Aoshi’s tone was nearly expressionless, but Misao could sense the sudden tension that had entered his shoulders before slowly melting away, like water being drawn back into the sea after lapping at the shore. “I will remain here in Shanghai until it’s done.”
“Aoshi-sama…” Misao bit her lip, pausing with her hand on the doorknob. “Good-bye…”
She had changed so much. No longer was she the girl who had idolized and worshipped him. She was confident now in a way she had never been before. Gone was the brash surface confidence she had always possessed. This was true self-assurance. For the first time she had looked at him without any trace of self-doubt, her gaze unclouded by adoration. She had seen him for what he really was. And, in turn, she had given him a glimpse of the strong, wonderful woman she had become. He had seen her strength, her inner fire, and it only served to increase the depth of his feelings for her. And with the deepening of his love for her came an even stronger sense mistrust for Yukishiro.
Regardless of what Misao had said about Yukishiro, Aoshi was distrustful of his motives. It was not that he thought such a man incapable of redemption—after all, it seemed that contact with Himura Kenshin had a way of making just about any man rethink his life—but he found it impossible to think of anyone who had kissed Misao, who had touched Misao, as anything but an enemy. He could not abide the thought of her living under that man’s roof. And, even worse, he hated to imagine the possible danger she might unknowingly put herself in while under some ill-conceived sense of obligation.
Misao… Aoshi closed his eyes and pictured her face and the determination he had seen there. Have I ever loved you as you truly deserve?
Perhaps he had not. Perhaps he never could. But he wouldn’t give her up without a fight. Come hell or high water, he wouldn’t be leaving Shanghai without her.
TBC…
Edit: I just wanted to take a moment to acknowledge the situation with Aoshi. One reviewer commented that his confession seemed sudden and odd, and I know that if one person is thinking that, there are probably others as well, so I just wanted to take a moment to give you all my reasoning for Aoshi’s characterization…
We all know that Aoshi is a cold, composed man. But, despite that, he’s not unemotional or heartless. He was obviously very deeply affected by the deaths of his friends. And even when he had supposedly gone over to the “dark side,” he was still aware enough to prevent himself from killing Okina. If he was truly cold and heartless, he would have just killed him then and gotten it over with. Also, if you’ve paid close attention to Aoshi’s character, particularly in the manga, you would have seen that Aoshi can be very blunt and to-the-point. With all of that being said, my view of Aoshi is this—He is a man who will recognize the time to act and will simply do so when that time comes. He has been looking for Misao throughout all of the preceding chapters with the clear intent of telling her or showing her his love when he finds her. Now that he has found her, he has realized that if he doesn’t act, he will probably lose her. Given the scenario I’ve put him in, I think he would tell her what he had come to say—simply and outright. It would have been out-of-character for him to give some flowery speech, so I just had him say it as I think he would in the circumstances. And, on top of all of that, the conclusion of this story is approaching. Aoshi doesn’t have any time to beat around the bush. For those who still find it out-of-character even despite my explanation, I do apologize, but I am going to stand behind what I’ve written and my reasoning for doing so.
Thanks for reading! I promise the next chapter won’t take three years to write.
Midori
