Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Altered Perceptions ❯ Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

 

Altered Perceptions

 

Chapter 5

 

For the first time since he could remember, Aoshi did not wake quickly. Usually his eyes would open between one heartbeat and the next, from sleep to wakefulness in one blink.

 

This time, sensation crept in at the edges of his awareness as he left dreams of ocean blue and glossy hair. Dim light barely touching his eyelids. The sweet smell of morning and sakura. A warm, comfortable weight at his side.

 

Ice blue eyes opened slowly, filtering in the very early morning light through midnight lashes. Carefully, he looked down to the warmth beside him. Misao was curled up against his side, head pillowed on his broad shoulder. One delicate hand gripped his yukata gently.

 

Aoshi afforded himself a small smile.

 

She was here. And she was his.

 

Or so he hoped.

 

Aoshi wondered at how this small, warm creature in his arms had become the center of his world. He supposed that it had been happening for some time, but the suddenness of realization forced him into contemplation. The strength and fervor of his reaction to the fear in her eyes the night before shook his self image as one always cool and in control.

 

Pushing her away, denying his inner desires to possess her, obviously did not work. Yet, given that she was just as stubborn as he, there was no way he could control her. Not that he would want to cage that spark. No, he had to keep her close, but trust her as well. He loved her too much to harm her.

 

Aoshi blinked. He loved her. He wasn't quite sure what that meant. But, it was the only word that described the enormous swell of desire, concern, and protective emotions that swirled in him wherever she was concerned.

 

There was also the matter of how she felt about him. She was in his arms, she did respond to him, and he was fairly sure she desired him. But was it love, or a hold over from her childhood affections? He could not stand the thought of her loving a false image of assumed perfection.

 

He sighed, hating feeling unconfident about anything. He turned his attention back to the vision lying against him, the inner voices softening. An unbidden smile crept into his eyes, and he kissed her silky hair gently. The desire that stirred in him to wake her up in a very pleasurable fashion was pushed aside. There would hopefully be other mornings; he did not want to scare her away.

 

Time ceased to exist for a while, tracked only by the subtle shift of early light from the window. His focus narrowed to the sound of her breath and the gentle movement of her ki over his.

 

His contemplation was eventually interrupted by the changes in her breathing, indicating a return to wakefulness. He indulged in taking in the play of expressions across her face. She shifted closer to him with a delicate groan. His heart skipped a beat as her eyes slowly opened and focused softly on his. The inner grumbling voices at him being so completely besotted were quashed by her sleepy smile.

 

“Morning,” she said quietly.

 

“Morning,” he responded, shifting slightly so he could better see her face.

 

“Have you been up long?”

 

He shrugged slightly.

 

“Sleep well?”

 

“Aa.”

 

She smiled again, nuzzling into his shoulder.

 

“Me too.”

 

A moment of quiet passed between them. Aoshi detected a growing thread of tension in her form. She obviously had questions, and he had implicitly promised to answer them in the morning. Since he had demanded that she wait, he should broach the topic. Going against his nature was difficult, and he was sure his reluctance showed in his voice.

 

“Misao. . .”

 

She looked up, hope and worry in her gaze.

 

“Yes, Aoshi?”

He smiled internally at the lack of honorific.

 

“I said last night that this was not a one time occurrence.”

 

She nodded slowly as he figured out how to say best what he meant. He held her gaze steadily as he continued.

 

“I want this to be permanent.”

 

Misao inhaled sharply, caution in her eyes. He hesitated before continuing.

 

“You and I, together.”

 

She shifted, sitting up and moving so she sat on her knees facing him. She did allow his hand to remain against her legs, where it had drifted in her movements. He craved to retain contact with her sweet warmth.

 

Misao looked out and away for a moment before leveling him with a frank expression.

 

“I want `this' to be more than us,” she blushed a little, “together. I want you as a partner, in all the ways our lives touch.”

 

The hand on her leg stiffened a little. He well understood all her layers of meaning. He sat up, looking at his hands for a few moments while gathering his thoughts.

 

“I don't know if I will ever lose the desire to protect you from everything. I can't promise to not be stubborn, and I can't promise a normal . . .relationship.”

 

She was very still as he marshaled himself to continue.

 

“I don't want a repeat of last night. The thought of you knowingly putting yourself in danger again makes me want to lock you up and keep the only key.”

 

She stiffened visibly.

 

“You know that is impossible, with what we do.”

 

“No, it is impossible because of what you know, and your skills. I happily would have shielded you completely from this life, but circumstances have worked against me.”

 

Her irritation was evident in the working of her hands at the hem of his shirt she wore. He sighed. Words were not his forte, but he had to clear the air between them.

 

“However, you are in this, and there is no way I can persuade you to do otherwise.” He held up a hand at her open mouth, taking a deep breath. “I promise to try to treat you as an equal, and to respect you. I . . . love you too much to lose you.”

 

Misao looked stunned, eyes wide. Aoshi held his breath waiting for her response.

 

“You love me?” Her small voice was threaded with too many emotions to name.

 

He reached out, trailing a long finger down the side of her face and down through her loose hair.

 

“I do not speak lightly, Misao. Ever.”

 

His arms were suddenly full of a bundle of silken hair and fragrant limbs. She trembled as he wrapped her into a tight embrace.

 

“I love you too. I've waited to hear that for so long.”

 

He tilted her chin up meet his gaze.

 

“Do you love the real me? Not an ideal `Aoshi-sama?'”

 

She laughed, a watery sound that flowed over him.

 

“I think you've shattered most of my illusions of perfection.”

 

Her humor soothed him, but he needed to be assured of her reply.

 

“Misao.”

 

Her smile softened to a slightly rueful grin.

 

“I won't say that your true self is less challenging than the man I idolized as a girl. However, the difficult traits draw me to you, as well as the more endearing ones.” Her smile broadened again. “Besides, you have to be a little demanding and difficult to keep me on my toes.”

 

He allowed a smile to touch his lips as he leaned closer.

 

“Hn. I may have more work to do.”

 

Her smiled turned heated as she leaned closer.

 

“By all means. I know how exacting you can be about things.”

 

His breath ghosted over her lips.

 

“Aa.”

 

Who closed the final distance between them was irrelevant. Her pliant mouth seemed to merge effortlessly with his in a slow, but heated exchange.

 

A sharp rap at the door forced him from her sweet taste. He growled lowly at being denied.

 

Okina's voice sailed gaily but firmly through the rice paper.

 

“If you two are quite done, Omasu would like me to inform you that she refuses address the bathhouse. I believe the exact quote was `If they can throw clothing everywhere and nearly empty the tub doing gods know what, then they can clean it up.'”

 

Misao buried a flaming face into Aoshi's chest, and he was momentarily torn between the desire to pull her to him completely or throttle Okina through the shoji.

 

“Understand?” The firm undercurrent was still there.

 

“Aa,” Aoshi intoned stiffly.

 

“Good! Hop to it, some of us prefer to bathe in the early afternoon. And cleaning will take you quite some time from the looks of it.”

 

~*~

 

The cold night wind whipped around Aoshi as he crouched in watch over the muted skyline. The rooftops were peaceful this time of night, with the unseasonable chill driving most denizens indoors. Aoshi remained unaffected, many years of training having shored his defenses against extremes.

 

The last month had been busy. The information gleaned from that night had lead to some interesting developments in the gang operation. Suzuki had held onto his paranoia for only a few days, returning to his covert patterns soon after. It was embarrassingly easy to track him once Aoshi's operatives mapped the crude network of underground passageways that the gang used to move goods and people. If they were lucky, the police would close in on the remaining members shortly.

 

Then there was the matter of the discrete temple visit Misao and he made this week. He refused to have her safety compromised, regardless of Okina's insistence on maintaining her honor through traditions. They knew how they felt, what did a priest have to do with it? However, it was important to her for Okina to be proud of her, and so the two of them made an evening foray to legitimize their union, away from prying eyes. The rest of the Oniwabanshuu made sure of that.

 

They didn't go to lengths to hide their relationship, but his private nature usually prevailed. Misao understood, and rarely displayed the bursts of affection from her younger years outside the Aoiya. She was smart enough to know the opportunity a personal entanglement could afford one of their enemies.

 

The air stilled around him for a precious moment, and he relaxed just slightly, letting silvery moonlight flow over his dark-clad form. There was no danger tonight.

 

A soft sound whistled past, ending inches from the hand that balanced him on his perch. Without looking down, he plucked the paper tied to the kunai still quivering in the roof tiles. A subtle tilt brought the characters to light.

 

`Come home soon, I'll warm you up.'

 

Aoshi slowly turned his head in the direction the kunai had originated. He could just make out her slight form as it bounded down to the streets. She turned just before she dropped out of view, mischief and desire easily visible to his sharp gaze. A lazy, not-yet impatient curl of arousal wormed its way through him. He found the slow build much more pleasurable than the racing fire that flew through them in their first several encounters.

 

`Just a little while longer, and I'll gladly make you burn.'

 

He straightened slowly, and breathed the night chill. The cold held the heat at bay for just a bit longer. A slight smile appeared, hidden under his concealing mask.

 

This peace was far better than solitude. Amazing how changing a few perceptions could provide such unexpected rewards.

 

The wind whispered in the spot left suddenly empty of his presence, even the moon unable to track his swift passage home.