Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Curl ❯ Chapter 4

Author's Note:

Those who reviewed my fic, you have my many thanks. ^-^ (For those who signed, or left their e-mail address, they got a personal thank you note from moi. *^-^*) On that note, I will continue on with the story.

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Misao stirred to the sound of clattering silverware, and the smell of food. Slowly, she had been charmed out of her slumber by the notion of 'dinner,' and rose from her place on the couch. She took another moment to let the scents engulf her… Another qualm she had about moving was she was afraid she'd miss all the home cooked food. But the clicking and clacking of pots and plates proved her wrong. Slowly she opened her eyes, to see a young woman - just a bit older than Sanosuke, perhaps - scuttling back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room setting the table for supper. The woman wasn't an eye-sore, that's for sure… but there was something remotely peculiar, though Misao couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Tae saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Delicately, as would a nursing mother to a child, she transferred the freshly cooked chicken breasts from their dish in the oven onto a serving plate. Letting a smile play on her features, causing her eyes to seemingly disappear, she made her way back to the table, giggling at the drooling young woman.

"Dinner will be served at six, as Shinomori-san requested," she gracefully bowed towards Misao, "You must be Makimachi-san," resting a hand on her chest she introduced herself, "I am Sekihara Tae, Shinomori-san's personal chef for the evening."

Misao looked over the woman, and snapped her fingers, 'AHA!... that's it. She - has no eyes???? Hoy, I'm genki, but I'm not that genki… (super happy/cheery)' A small sweat drop appeared at the side of her head, and she tossed her long braid over her shoulder, remembering her manners. Bowing politely, she smiled back, "Maa maa, just call me Misao, or Misao-chan," the girl blushed sheepishly. She was accustomed to either being 'Misao-chan' or 'Weasel' - all of this formality was a little embaressing. Then she realized something, and with a blink, she asked, "Anno - tonight??"

"Hai,… Misao-chan," Tae seemed to be testing the name on her tongue. Mentally shrugging away that brief concern, she went back to getting the dishes together for dinner. "Shinomori-san called the Akabeko and asked if someone could cater for dinner tonight as he had special guests staying with him." Something seemed to click in the back of her mind, looking at Misao again. 'Special?...' The younger girl couldn't see the scandalous nature of Tae's thoughts in her eyes, oh but they were there. Then she recalled she was setting the table for three, so she calmed her suspicions…

Briefly.

*-*-*-*

Sano, too, was seduced by the smell of food. He was brushing his teeth for the third time since he got out of the shower, until he was entirely satisfied he wasn't going to burp up a soap bubble. 'Stupid weasel.'

Slinging a towel over his shoulders and drying his hair with one hand, he sniffed at the air. 'Aoshi? Cooking? This I *gotta* see.' As the idea of his older brother in a frilly pink apron danced in his mind, he paraded out of his room with nothing more than the towel on his shoulders and a loose pair of sweatpants that were just *barely* hanging on his hips, he made an entrance.

"Oy, Aoshi - You never cooked before - …oro?" The tall young man found himself already half way into the dining room before he noticed two beets - er, women in the room. He got a roguish grin on his face, "Well, well. What do we have here then?"

Tae had lost her ability to speak, not that she had been doing much talking to begin with. Misao, still standing in 'the pit' of a living room, shook her head firmly to bring herself back to reality.

"SAGARA SANOSUKE," It was a firm, and rather loud statement. She put on a smile, keeping in mind that Tae was still in the room… motioning to the woman she softened her voice, but not her tone, "Can't you see that we have company? Perhaps!..." she nearly spat the word across the room, "You might do us the honor of putting some clothes on."

Tae hugged a plate to her chest, almost able to cut the tension between the two with a carving knife. And although Sano was nice to look at, Misao-chan was correct. She cleared her throat briefly, distracting the two would-be-combatants, "You must be Sagara-san," she bowed, both out of manners, and to avoid ogling at his glistening complexion. "I am Sekihara Tae, and I will be the cook for the evening."

"Oh, is *that* all? I thought the ol' icicle finally bagged himself a keeper-" Sano didn't know what hit him.

*-*-*-*

"SAGARA SANOSUKE…" The voice came blaring all the way upstairs, through the allegedly sound-proof glass. That girl had quite a mouth on her.

Aoshi wrung his hands through a small hand towel once more, having also been washing up for dinner. He was curious what the hell that rooster head had managed to do *now*… he shook his head briefly, casting the towel back into the bathroom over his shoulder.

Work, for him, didn't take many hours of the day, it was just one trying episode after the next. The reasons companies came to S.N.O.W, Shinomori Networking and Organization Workgroup, was so that himself and his people would do the job for them. But every so often, some old-fashioned cancer-ridden fools would decide that they knew how their companies should be run - well, then, why the hell would they need their help in the first place? 'We're the best, it's as simple as that,' and he knew it, their clients knew it, and damn as hell if most of Japan didn't know it. His father prided himself on having the strongest firm in the nation, and Aoshi saw no room to be anything else. But all of this aside, none of this was the matter at hand. He had to go downstairs and break up another brawl.

As he silently made his way down the staircase, he found himself walking in on the tail end of a conversation, "Oh, is *that* all? I thought the ol' icicle finally bagged himself a keeper-"

Surprisingly, Aoshi didn't have a chance to throttle his younger brother, as he would do, usually. '*Someone* had to teach him some respect,' and he didn't very well count on his mother to pass down anything in the realm of morals. Regardless of whose son he was, he was still his brother. That made him part Shinomori, whether he liked it or not. But that 'someone' was busy kicking Sano back into his room, with a tail of a braid trailing behind her.

Between kicks, Misao barked out orders, "Show *kick* respect *roundhouse* for *kickkick* your elders!" And topped off with a smack to the back of his head that finally throttled him into his bedroom, "And don't come out until you're properly dressed!"

Aoshi raised a slender eyebrow at the pair. Perhaps this would be easier than he thought, 'She could do all the work.' He didn't feel as though he needed a woman around to keep his kid brother in line, but it couldn't hurt. 'Note to self: Not yet a woman.'

"Araa - Shinomori-san, dinner is just about ready whenever…"

"Aa," he said simply, as he strode towards the table. Hearing footsteps pad across the carpet drawing nearer, "Misao-chan. Get washed up for dinner, please." Those very same footsteps came to an abrupt halt, and made a 180 in the opposite direction. As he picked off one of the covers on one of the dishes, Aoshi spoke softly, almost apologetically, "If this is all, you may go. Arigato gozaimasu."

"Hai, Shinomori-san, no trouble at all," Tae quickly rested the plate she was hugging onto the table… the last piece of the elegent setting, and got her things together. Taking off her apron, and slipping on her coat, "Feel free to call upon the Akabeko anytime…!" She shot him a winning smile, as though she hadn't just been a witness to what could've exploded into the next world war in sibling rivalry. Her previous presumptions of what was transpiring had entirely fled from her mind. How could she suspect someone as uptight - upstanding as Shinomori Aoshi of some sex scandal with a school girl… and boy, no less. As she made her way to the elevator, she silently scolded herself, as a faint blush came to her cheeks while less-than-tasteful images danced in her mind.

Aoshi stood behind his chair at the head of the table waiting for the two… children to emerge from their rooms. He wasn't quite sure if he was hoping for both to arrive at the table safely, or if he wanted another show.

It was quite amusing to watch Sanosuke at the mercy of a small… well. She wasn't as small as he'd expected. He honestly didn't remember much of Misao, other than those clear blue eyes, and those hadn't changed. The rest of her, however, sure as hell did. She wasn't fully matured yet… physically, mentally. That much was obvious. It looked as though Aoshi's mother had dropped two late-bloomers in his lap. At least the girl showed some form in her attacks, and the remnants of what could be potential.

Sanosuke took up kempo as soon as their mother would allow him to. She had been quite reluctant, 'Afraid he'd turn out like me, no doubt.' Although she knew full well his distaste for her had nothing to do with his training. That only conditioned him to hold some respectable restraint of his emotions. Business was cut-throat, people were liars, and Aoshi was not going to be taken as anybody's fool. Not like his father. Not even for his mother. Not for anybody.

*-*-*-*

Misao's face was a scandalous shade of red. The bathroom was still a bit steamy, but that had nothing to do with it. 'Stupid Sano…' She flicked on the fan, to whisk away the thick cloud of musk that filled the air.

In all honestly, she hadn't been in close contact with men… at least not like this. 'cept for Jiya, and in that big old house of theirs, they never really shared a bathroom or anything like that. She was used to seeing Sano topless; after all, they trained together under their grandfather. She undid her braid, to comb all the tresses back into place - they were strands sticking out in an unruly manner from her bout with Sano, and her nap. Resting her brush to her chest, she let out a deep sigh, 'That Aoshi… nearly gave me a heart attack.' Now she was starting to think that Sano's stories weren't all fairytales. Her mind was lost in her memories, as she unconsciously re-braided her hair.

*-*-*-*

"Mou, you're lying!"

"Am not! I DO have a brother!"

"Then why haven't I ever seen him then?! HUH?!" An eight-year-old Misao stood toe to toe with a ten-year-old Sanosuke. They were at a festival, and wearing traditional kimonos… which Misao didn't seem too happy about. Rather, she didn't care what she was wearing, she'd be ready to pummel Sano any day of the bloody week. "Gee, Sano-CHAN… I bet you made up a new imaginary friend, is that it?!"

Sano fumed. 'Only Mom has the right to call me that, dammit!' He promised her he'd behave. He promised. But dammit, this girl was trying his patience. And that imaginary friend thing was a *long* time ago. "I can't believe you remembered *that*… and couldn't remember Aoshi-kun."

"… A-aoshi?" Misao blinked as though the gears in her head were clicking together all at once. The name sounded familiar, yes. And a pair of sea blue eyes seemed to come to memory… but nothing much else.

"Oh so you *do* remember," Sano grinned triumphantly, as he pulled up one of his sleeves, and drew Misao under one of his arms. He panned his hand over the clear sky above, "Aoshi-kun is off at school in a faaar away land…" Misao seemed entirely entranced. "Where there are still princesses and princes and things…"

"Oy! Now I know you're lying!"

"No no no! I swear!... some Diana chick or something, but anyway…" Sano shook his hand in front of them as though to wash his storyboard to a clean slate. He looked right… and left… and over Misao's shoulder…

"Oy-" Misao quickly hushed as Sano motioned her to, whispering the way children don't know how to, she continued, "Sano-nii'… (big brother Sano) are there really princesses…?" He simply smiled down at her, and tossled her hair a bit.

"Yup, squirt," he lead her away from the crowds a bit, and they both settled down on a grassy knoll. Plucking at a blade of grass, and chewin' on it through the corner of his mouth, "And the princes have white horses, and all that good stuff." He stifled a chuckle when he heard a wide-eyed Misao gasp.

"What's Aoshi-nii' doin' all the way over there then?" She mimicked him snatchin' up a blade of grass… or what she thought was one. It was really a dandelion, and when she began to chew on the stem, she lost a taste for it almost immediately and started gagging and coughing. Sano gently patted her on the back, with a soft hazel gaze… She tossed it away, knowing from the look in his eyes that he wouldn't hold it against her that she couldn't copy him. Sniffin' a little, still a bit disappointed in herself that she couldn't be like her 'niichan, she scooted over on the grass and leaned her smaller frame against his side. With her head neatly nestled into the crook of his shoulder, he wrapped her up in one of his strong arms, and hugged her softly.

"Well, Aoshi's dad - we have different daddies," he got out before Misao could question. Misao got a funny feeling she shouldn't ask anymore about it, and settled back down. "Sent him off so when he came back he could see him all grown up…"

"Like a prince?" Sano only smirked, scratching at the side of his cheek. He nearly shook his head in negation, but then looking around as though he had another secret to tell.

"…I don't know if I should tell you this, but…"

"Sagara Sanosuke, if you don't tell me RIGHT this minute - !!" His hands clapped over her mouth, and sat her back down in his lap. Keeping his hands put, not willing to risk her screaming and alarming the whole nation, he continued in a hushed whisper.

"… but the REAL reason Shinomori-san sent Aoshi to school far away was because…" Sano made a quick spot check again, "… he's no ordinary boy." He felt her gasp beneath his hands, and knew it was safe to pull away. Resting his palms on the cool lush grass, he spat the blade of grass to the side. An eager Misao sat with a wide cerulean gaze, expectant. "They didn't want you to know, they think you're too young - but!" He waved a hand before she could start sputtering protests. "I'll tell you…"

"Arigato, Sano-nii'!!" Misao practically bounced in his lap, and nearly toppled them both over, "I won't tell a livin' soul I swear!"

He knew she couldn't hold to that promise, at least for more than a day or two, but regardless, "… well he's really… he's really a…" His voice was almost inaudible, causing Misao to lean closer and closer to him straining to hear… "… a werewolf." She gasped, her lower lip dropping and trembling. 'You've gotta be kiddin', she *bought* that?!'… Sano coughed into a fist, to conceal a chuckle.

"A-a-a… werewolf?" Her tiny hands clutched to the front of his kimono, her eyes glistening. He'd told her all the scary stories before about werewolves, vampires… and no matter how many times Jiya told her they were all fibs, she believed Sano more than that practical joker.

"And you know what werewolves eat, dontcha?" He clamped his hands over Misao's shoulders, so she couldn't get away too quickly. And brought her real close as though he were going to whisper… and paused dramatically.

…

…

"WEASEL!"

"WAHHH! JIYA…!!!" A terrified Misao bolted up the hill, while a cheerful young boy laughed and rolled down it.