Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Curl ❯ Chapter 8

Misao didn't hear a peep out of Sanosuke for the next hour. Now, she was dreading the walk to school. It was just before seven o'clock. 'I guess I should start getting ready,' she thought mournfully. The light was off in the bathroom now, signaling that it was free. This didn't stop her from hesitating in front of the door, kicking she'd thrown out of her path. Slowly, she unlocked it, and opened the door. Nothing, and no one was waiting for her.

She'd let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, as she turned the taps on for the shower. Untying her braid, she had a little some trouble with it, as her hair tended to knot and get frazzled while she slept. Sanosuke used to threaten to cut it all off, but he would always say that she wouldn't be his weasel girl without it. Bowing her head slightly, she noticed that the sink counter was wet. A few drops were splattered on the cool marble… about to blame Sano for this; she noticed that more liquid began to accumulate. And slowly, she lifted her head to face the mirror image of her tear stained cheeks. Wiping her face furiously, almost harshly, she closed the room to her bedroom, and started to undress to hop into the shower.

It hadn't been lost on her that there was a seam loose on one of the straps of the tank she had been wearing. Holding it in front of her, now standing stark naked, she examined it closely. 'Must've happened when Sano…' Shutting her eyes tightly, she remembered the fire in his eyes. She swore she'd never seen Sanosuke that angry in her whole life. Having known him for her whole life, this was a bit of a surprise. Especially over… something like this.

As the near scalding water skimmed over her features, and washed her face of her salty tears, she couldn't help but go over what had happened over and over in her mind. How could Sano think that she was some kind of… harlot, slut, whore… Thousands of synonyms spun in her mind, as though she'd suddenly been named thesaurus of the year, or something. As Aoshi had said, they were just 'in case'.

She braced herself on the tiled wall, both hands laying flat on her palms, just letting the hot water wash over her features. Looking down at herself, watching as each stream of clear fluid flowed over each muscle, every inch of her… Did he think she was still a child? That she didn't know of the birds and the bees?... Her fingers curled and scratched at the innocent tiles. 'Am I so ugly…?' she internally winced, and shut her eyes. She told herself it was to avoid too much water getting into her eyes. Sanosuke always joked about how she was under-developed… flat-chested… a tomboy… violent… Did he see no means that a man would want to…

The water that skimmed over her lips began to have the faintest undertone of salt. She was crying again, as her knees fell weak beneath her and she curled into a fetal ball on the floor of the shower stall until the water ran cold.

*-*-*-*

There was a soft knocking at Misao's bedroom door. No answer.

Again. No answer.

Aoshi stood there, dressed in black casual slacks and a white dress shirt, with the top buttons undone. The cuffs of the shirt were also undone, and he motioned to rectify that. He had been staring at his hand, as it hovered over her bedroom door.

They'd only been there for three days. He wondered then… if this was what it meant to be a family. To have your heart clench when you saw pain in another's eyes, or when their fists of anger felt like a stabbing betrayal. When watching two people argue wasn't just a 'fight' between a man and a woman, but it was like watching your right hand fight with your left.

'I'm too close,' he thought sullenly. He was too close to this, to them. Even with his own brother, he'd kept his distance. He always held his birth against him, though as a man now, he knew it wasn't fair. And this girl… woman. That disk that had been in his hand also stirred more emotions in him, as well. He saw where Sanosuke was coming from, but he also saw the pain he was causing with where he was going. He had to do something. He just *had* to.

It had come to this. He wasn't taking sides, he had decided to himself. He was just seeing that things were fair. Sano was older, if not only by two years, he should know better. Although, Aoshi honestly never expected him to magically wake up one day and act his age. Then again, he didn't expect Sano to wake up one day and act like a disappointed father. Or brother. … Or jealous lover.

Aoshi shook his head, knocking for a third time. Nothing. Closing his hand around the door knob of what was once his study, he opened the door to find… nothing. Well, a large mess of pillows scattered on the floor, a messy bed, but no girl to match. The pills still lay where he'd thrown them, and other than the pillows, and the missing girl, nothing in the room had been disturbed. There was light streaming out from under the bathroom door, and he moved to that one, to begin the knocking ceremony once more.

"Misao-chan." He said the single statement loudly, hoping it would get over the shower. It worked apparently, as he could hear as the water stopped, and the taps were turned off. A very drippy girl, engulfed in a large fluffy white towel that covered her torso to her knees, stood before him. "It's almost a quarter to eight." The girl simply nodded, the luster that was once held in her indigo orbs seemingly lost, or well, misplaced.

She turned away, and before the door could close back fully, he spoke again, "I'll be walking you today." The door stopped, and opened slightly. The same girl was looking back at him with wide eyes, life flickering in them once again. She nodded numbly, and he back to her, and made a silent exit.

Misao dried her hair best she could in the little time she had. If she wanted to get any breakfast, she'd have to put aside her thoughts and start getting in gear. Badda-bing-badda-boom, she had zoomed about her room, stumbling here and there, to get her uniform on. She wasn't unaccustomed to being rushed in the mornings before school, often rolling out of bed at the very last possible minute.

Then she was standing in front of the door. Her backpack was in one hand, and the door knob in the other. Her hair was in it's customary braid, and just a bit damp, but she couldn't really feel it through the school blazer, and the sweater vest… *and* the white collared dress shirt, complete with tie. At least she didn't have to worry about being warm on topside. Though, she wore dark stockings that matched the black sweater vest, for fear of how cold it might be in that skirt.

'This CAN'T be only three inches above the knee…' She remembered reading the school guidelines, and the rules said three inches. Distinctly remembering having Kaoru help her get her measurements and mail them off to the school, she wondered how they could possibly get it wrong. 'Well not much I can do about it today, I guess.' She hoped during the winter months that maybe, just maybe, St. Catharine's might allow dress pants. Then again, this wasn't hell, and the forecast wasn't snow… although the first point could probably be argued.

*-*-*-*

Aoshi sat at his seat at the head of the table, with an abandoned cup of tea, and was shrouded behind a newspaper. Hearing Misao's door open and close, he heard her graceful footfalls as she sat at her regular seat at the table, to take the seat to his right. There was a place setting ready, with toast on the side and condiments on a little sterling silver carousel in front of it. For her breakfast on the first day of school it looked like she was having eggs, sunny-side up, with mini-flapjacks. She blinked at her plate.

"How did you -" This man was just full of surprises, though he had the personality of a steel two-by-four. He defended her, more than once… Offered to go in place of a parent… Said he walk her to school with her… and now this. Shinomori Aoshi: Tokyo's Man of Mystery.

"Jiya told me what you liked for breakfast on school days before you came," The newspaper made some rustling noises as he turned the page. The page he was looking at was briefly folded down, as he glanced at his watch. "Hope you can eat it in fifteen minutes."

Misao glanced at the clock on the wall by the fridge. Only eight o'clock? Even she was impressed. She didn't really even have to rush eating, either. Maybe today wasn't going to be too bad after all, though it got off to a rocky start. Correction: Hellish. Now if she could only manage not to get in trouble once she actually got to school.

'I've got my work cut out for me, don't I? Thanks a lot, Jiya.' The two people at the table thought simultaneously without realizing it. But there had to have been some recognition of the fact because they glanced at one another at the very same moment. When time unfroze, Misao finished up her breakfast, and after rinsing her wares, put them in the dishwasher.

"Ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."