Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Curl ❯ Chapter 10

Sanosuke cursed his brother to the high heavens. How *dare* he put a timer on the window blinds?! As soon as the sun had begun to rise, the shades had opened, and startled poor Sano right of bed. The tall boy knocked his forehead on his night table as he rolled off the side of his bed, in a bed-sheet maki. ('Maki' is the sushi that's wrapped up in a roll of seaweed.) When his senses returned, he noticed the foul taste in his mouth, and began to blindly worm his way over to the bathroom, gradually freeing himself from his comforter and sheets.

The bathroom light was worse than the sun… when he thought his eyes had just recovered from the shock, and then a fluorescent beam sent him cowering into the door. "Fucking hell…" he muttered to himself, which then reminded of the taste in his mouth. And to worsen matters, he looked like a worse morning-person than he felt like.

Roughly, his large hands, turned on the taps, wincing when it ran cold… splashing the water back and forth with his fingers, in some futile attempt to help it heat up faster. He took a deep breath and then splashed himself in the face, dampening his hair, to reduce the appearance of shards of brown sticking out of place. Regaining his senses, for better or worse, he experimented with how his hair would look slicked down. Sanosuke had to use both hands to hold his hair back, and it sprung back into action, catapulting droplets of water onto the bathroom mirror. Snatching up a bottle of mouthwash, almost perturbed at his failed attempt to look suave, he knocked back a mouthful and gargled obnoxiously loud. At least he had some merit in his aim, when it came to spitting at least.

It's a pity no one had a camera, for he looked pretty funny awkwardly bent over the sink flushing his mouth with water, to calm down the stinging sensation that tickled his taste buds with minty freshness. Scuffling about in his medicine cabinet, he found the remains of what was once a rolled up tube of toothpaste. He had gallons of cologne, and yet not even a smidge of toothpaste. "Dammit all…" her grumbled, fishing into Misao's medicine cabinet, as if to find a new tube by feel alone.

His foot twitched when something clattered to the ground by it. Time slowed down by the millisecond, as Sano stooped down to retrieve it, hoping to put everything back JUST how he'd found it. (And had he actually been watching what he was doing, he might've been successful.)

Then his ass hit the floor, and his back was to the wall. "Son of a…" He wasn't much for internal monologue this early in the morning. His knees were bent, supporting his elbow, as his hand cupped his forehead. His other hand was holding a small plastic disc that was the center of the universe in his palm.

'Why the hell would she have…?' He knew what they were. He'd been around. Hell, so had some of the girls he'd been with. Although, two and two never came together, that he had been with girls, and that Misao was indeed, in fact, without question, a girl. Equaling the fact that, in theory, he could have as easily could have been with Misao.

"WHOA," Sano's eyes bugged out of his skull, as his hand released his skull and gripped onto his turning stomach. That was the only intelligible word he could formulate at that given point in time. "Ohnononononononono…" The man was now fully awake, with all his wits, what he had of them anyway, about him.

He could've easily have crushed the thing in his hand, but no. He had too many questions. Too many pictures were now floating in his head. Sano failed to drown them out by shutting his eyes to the world, and banging the back of his head against the wall. He was between a rock and a hard place… well, the toilet and the shower. His entire body shook as his head tossed from one side to the other, as he couldn't break free of the images of Misao… Every woman he'd ever laid a hand on now had her face.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted…

… to kill someone.

*-*-*-*

"What do you mean you can't go another round?" Sweat dripped down the side of his rugged features, as he lazily swiped the back of his hand over his forehead.

"I mean I can't, not now anyway," Misao was already getting her things together and making an exit.

"It's only… the middle of the afternoon, where the hell do you have to go?!" Sanosuke, who'd been lying on his back, rolled over on his side, propping himself up on one arm. He squeezed his cheek in his hand, to try and hide the fact he was pouting at her back while she opened the door to leave the dojo.

"I told you, I can't spar anymore, I have to get ready-"

"What the hell is more important than me?!" Sano was up at his feet, with his hand flat against his chest, looking riddled with hurt. His deep brown eyes were dancing with laughter, if not to hide the fact that part of him really was feeling some dejection. The corner of his lips quirked, as he rested a hand on his hip, "Got a hot date or something, weasel girl?"

Misao made gagging noises, and motioned to stick her finger down her throat when Sano began making suggestive movements with his hips. He had this way of having a hand behind his head, while one braced at something imaginary in front of him… the void of where a woman would be, as he bucked his hips. She cupped her hands over her ears, to try and drown out his loud groans, and almost painful moans. Though, he suddenly stopped, and she blinked curiously, looking up to suddenly find him not but a foot away from her.

"You're blushing," he stated flatly, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look up at him. She was suddenly bashful, and her eyes try to dodge his, but couldn't. "Well?"

"Well what?!" she sputtered, trying to get her chin back to its rightful owner. Sano held her firmly, with just those two fingers, and his gaze was unwavering.

"Well, what's his name, Baka-chan," it was only then he released her and knocked on the top of her head. It hadn't been a question, and she could sense, even through the playfulness he'd ended it with. He was smiling in his usual goofy way, but she couldn't see the way his fist was clenched behind the sliding door. They stood on either side of it, one on the outs, one on the in. But for a brief moment, as the blossoms rustled in the trees from a gentle spring breeze, they were miles apart. Each locked in their respective thoughts. She looked almost ashamed, as though she had been hiding something from him… 'For a while. They've been together a while.' Sano bit his tongue, and waited.

"Seta. Soujirou Seta-" She was back to her old self when she was suddenly the object of Sano's unsaid joke. He was back on the floor, laughing his chicken-head off. "WHAT THE HELL'S SO FUNNY?!" It took a while for Sano to recover himself, as he sat up, bracing himself against the door frame.

"You mean that 'genki genki' jackass?!" He flashed his hands on either side of his head, with a plastered 'chick' smile on his face, and then went about trying to beat the laughter out of him by smacking his forehead.

"So he *likes* to smile! What's the matter with that?!" She whacked him on the top of his head, before he could react; too busy trying to get his laughing under control. He cleared his throat, swallowing down his laughter - with a lot of effort.

"Well… it's just that…" Misao tapped her foot, with her hands at her hips waiting. "We never really believed he was… well… OW!" Finding his hair captive to a weasel paw he blurted, "We didn't think he was into girls!! But I guess with a girl like you, it works -" He interrupted himself with his own laughter, falling back onto his behind once again. He could only catch the tail end of a braid flicker away out of the corner of his eye as she marched off, not after forcefully shutting them with her fist.

When Sano recovered, he also noted his hand had fallen victim to being crushed by the door. Nothing that wouldn't heal, mind you, but he'd obviously struck a chord. Looking at the tracks in the dirt where Misao had left him there, alone, he could only see through the sliver that was left behind when the door had recoiled on his hand. His eyes glazed as he lowered his head to shade them with his sweat-weighed bangs, 'So did she.'

He didn't leave the dojo for quite a while after. Sano just lay back and listened to the sound of the breeze, the rustling blossoms… and the gleeful voice of his weasel girl as she eagerly greeted another man.

*-*-*-*

It was at that moment that Sanosuke's mental cognition decided to function. A new equation came to like, and he was seething which rage. Anger management would be for another day because today he needed to hurt something. Someone.

"… Seta…" He growled, clutching Misao's birth control pills, as he was suddenly found himself throwing open her bedroom door.

And so began the morning, where everything changed.

*-*-*-*

"Sanosuke."

That was all the recognition he gave his younger brother, who had been waiting in the doorway for him. He tried to brush past him, but saw Sano's hand fly out to attack him, and he simply caught the fist, holding it those few inches from his face. He watched his brother's features, as he took long haggard breaths, and could feel his anger pulse in that raging fist.

"How could you do it?..." Sano's voice hadn't meant to come out so… helpless. It sounded like he did when he was a boy, an unsure whisper to an older brother who had all the answers. Aoshi's silence only proved to enrage him further, "WELL?!"

Aoshi braced himself, when Sano's hand pulled back, anticipating another attack that never came. He stared at his brother's back, honestly not knowing what to tell him. The only reason he had was the pain he saw in that… that woman's eyes that morning. His cobalt eyes followed his movements, as Sano snatched up a jacket off the dining room table and stalked out of the apartment, nearly breaking the door's hinges when he slammed it. He winced internally, as though a blow had just connected. He looked at his reflection from afar in the windows of his luxuriously empty apartment.

'Traitor.' He thought to the only person who could hear. Then continued with his day as it would normally commence, though nothing was the same, but he could only find solace in the fact there was nothing he could do at the moment.

*-*-*-*

"So 'niichan?" The spiky-headed boy queried, as he chewed on a piece of grass, laying next to his older brother in the backyard, staring at the night sky.

"Aa."

"When I see you again, will you be a man?" Those youthful brown eyes peeked over at Aoshi, munchin' on the blade of grass almost nervously. He wouldn't see his oniichan for a long time after he goes away to school.

"… Aa."

"Will I be a man, too?" He blinked when he thought he saw Aoshi glance at him, but it was so quick, he couldn't be sure.

"Aa." Then the night was silent once again.

*-*-*-*

It was almost noon, the time when Misao will be released from… this place. She didn't know how to conceive it just yet. So it had everything in the whole entire world a girl would want in a school… save the guys, of course. St. Catharine's had a beautiful campus, and each student seemed to have grace and poise. Misao couldn't feel any more out of place. She could mostly only stutter a "Maybe," every so often, with the winning smile she'd been known to have. When she was asked if she thought she'd like it here… whether she'd be going back to Kyoto during the holidays… if she wanted to join clubs…

She sat in one of the classrooms, straight-backed, legs crossed. "Modesty is the best policy," she quoted a professor. And here, stupid her, she thought it was "honesty." This is why she didn't have many friends that were girls. She couldn't trust them as far as she could… well, no, she could probably throw them pretty far, couldn't she? Misao had to suppress her grin at the notion. 'Stay out of trouble, Misao…'

Only a couple more minutes, and she'd be free to go… from one hell to another. She'd almost been distracted enough to forget what happened that morning. If she could get away with smacking herself without causing too much of a commotion, she probably would have. The end of classes' bell rang, and she winced, silently deciding she'll take as long as possible to get home.

That is. If she could remember how she got there. Misao grimaced, and sank into her chair, hoping to disappear.