Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Curl ❯ Chapter 18

Aoshi ate solemnly and in silence, knowing that she was watching his every movement. He felt like a germ under a microscope, the way her eyes were inspecting him. If he ever needed inventory on his parts, he'd know where to go.

'Hah.' He half scoffed, half laughed in his head. She had yet to see all of him, but he wouldn't be surprised if the thought had crossed her mind. For if he were to look at her, even with the coldest gaze he could muster - and yet, he couldn't, not with her… she would blush, and hide. Bashful and shy, and… well. Like a school girl. Imagine if she were ever to look at him, and get truly get to know his parts.

'I've been living with Sano too long,' he lifted the fork to his mouth, chewing steadily. Carefully. No egg shells yet. This was a good enough sign. The green peppers could stand to have been diced finer, but it wasn't a fatal ordeal she was submitting him to. He hadn't been *scared* persay… just cautious. She was still one of "them" afterall.

He finished, and got up rather primly from the table, as if to ignore the eager wide blue eyes that waited for his approval. It was almost amusing to watch her go through phase after phase of emotion… '… Five… four… three…' Those blue eyes, he knew, had a glint of hope in one corner as her gaze was unyielding.

"Aoshi-sama?" Only three? This must have been some special omelet. He only gave her a nod, and yet marveled at how she beamed, and bounced out of her seat, getting her things together to get ready for their school day. It only took one look, and she would give back so much. Such a curious phenomenon, really.

Her innocence was intact, regardless of Sanosuke's doubts, but Aoshi could see it clear as day. By the way she moved, and the grace she held - well, when she wasn't trying to hurt something, or could see over the neon blush of her cheeks… It was truly a marvel, as Aoshi found such a kind of woman fairly rare.

No. Near extinction.

It was just this one. This Misao. … his Misao-chan. Jiya had set him up again, giving him a task larger than life: to care for this girl and everything she was. There was a feeling, a rather foreign feeling, which stirred in his chest. It spoke of reason… reason to continue, reason to stay, reason to permit and allow these intruders into his home. It gave him a reason to protect, and… to feel.

'Arigato, Jiya.'

*-*-*-*

So, Shinomori Aoshi, bachelor, age twenty-eight… was now a parent. Well, a temp. Misao stewed as they walked. Her arms swung listlessly at her sides, rustling the pleats in her skirt idly. She really didn't like putting Aoshi in this position. It was bad enough he'd got dragged into the spats she had with Sanosuke…

'Sano-nii',' her voice spoke to her inside her mind. It sounded so foreign, so young, so sweet. Just how she would say it to her beloved and dear older brother… but it was so different now. She couldn't put more pressures and burdens on Aoshi-sama, so she would allow that to tear her up inside and did as it may. For now, Misao could keep busy as her classes were going to be starting up their serious curricula any time now. Her tears will be hers, and hers alone.

'Anytime now.' Any distraction whistled hope. For now, she could pretend. For Aoshi-sama. For Jiya. And most importantly, for herself.

The pig-tailed girl, once again, wasn't focusing on where she was going. So when Aoshi's cell phone went off, she fell over onto a near by car. Unfortunately, said car had an alarm, which only sent her screeching further, clinging desperately to a street pole, with knuckles white, and breath ragged.

Although this street pole had a funny way of… talking to his secretary???

*-*-*-*

Aoshi, regardless of the thousands of stares and lookers on, basically feigned ignorance to the fact that there was a perfectly ample young woman clinging to him for dear life. He simply continued walking, as though the weight meant nothing. When he was far enough from the car alarm to hear himself, as well as his secretary, his arm wrapped around her remarkably small waist and set her on the ground. He noted that he was no longer holding a young woman, he was holding a wooden two-by-four, or something similarly as stiff.

*-*-*-*

"Aa.… Iie... Unh… Aa." Misao couldn't help but gape at Aoshi's rather unique communication skills. Not to mention the fact he just held her, and let her cling to him.

'What the *hell* just happened?' Misao, all on her own, had discovered the common question among the locals. Aoshi simply closed his cell phone, and without a mere glance, he continued walking to the school. When Misao snapped out of her dazed, she followed toe to toe.

"Aoshi-sama?" She had to say *something*. She just wasn't quite sure yet, maybe she'd just wing it. He looked at her through the corner of his eyes, a soft blue-green gaze that was threatening to turn her into molten lava. 'Think, Misao! He's waiting for you to say something!! THINK!' She mentally smacked herself.

*-*-*-*

"Do you *ever* work?" Aoshi tucked away the corner of his lip and looked at her as though he just asked her if his ass were made of green cheese.

"Iie. I just doodle all day." If he had the gall to show any more emotion that day, he would've rolled his eyes as Misao walked into a lamppost, and he let her. He mused as he watched her fight with herself, obviously realizing what a stupid question that was. Maybe he should've said, "No, Armani is my second cousin, and spots me the suits for free."

It wasn't a smile, no.

*-*-*-*

"I have homework to do."

"Iie… not now…" her hand roamed over his chest, as he stared at the ceiling. Her hands were all over him again, and it made him terribly bored. Lately, boredom was usually accompanied by the filling of bile in the back of his throat, but he would choke it back down from once it came.

"Again?" He rolled over. Every time her husband left, it was like this. Night after night… several times a day… She was frankly insatiable, not to mention predictable. It was become a dull mechanical routine. And oh, how lucky he was, to be her 'favorite.' Aoshi wished his body hadn't matured so quickly, or perhaps he wouldn't have to be in constant demand of this… thing that lay beside him, cooing.

The cooing was the worst part. She would flirt in their sessions, threaten to take him in the office… she helped nothing, did nothing for his troubles. The distraction was good enough, but he was quite tired of her now. Aoshi didn't really have to do anything anymore. Frankly, she would take care of it. Or would have him trust her to do what needed to be taken care of, but as he didn't trust any women, she was no exception. Tossing her arms aside, and turning her away, he threw his legs off the bed and planted his feet on the floor.

"Enough. I have work to do." It was just the same as it had been. In Japan. Work was the only escape. Overworking his only peace. Nothing changed. Nothing ever changed.

*-*-*-*

Something had changed. Once they reached the school, Aoshi had noticed that Misao was still nursing her smarting forehead. She was startled when he took her chin in his fingertips, if not just because it was Aoshi, but also because they were in broad daylight in front of her school for crying out loud. What was he going to do? Kiss it better?

Her face turned scarlet, as he examined her, and pressed his lips thinly. 'What *is* he doing?' Questions swam in the young woman's mind, trying to tune out all of the people that stood around and cooed or sneered. His diagnosis was in his eyes. She was overreacting, again. It was times like these, and looks like those that made Misao hate the gender she was born into. She felt like a child when he looked at her that way… The notion caused her heart to sink. So, she wasn't developed like some of the other girls - but she was still a girl, ask any one of her doctors. There was something that always had to remind her that she was built like a muscle toned first year.

When he released her chin, she felt a chill. It was as though all the warmth from her body just escaped all at once with the gentle autumn breeze, and it had all been held in his tender touch. It returned again when he spoke to her, in a soft and rather alluring tone.

"We'll get some ice on it, Misao-chan. Don't aggravate it." Pity all problems couldn't be solved so easily? She chuckled to herself, 'Take two Aoshis and call me in the morning!' Misao had inherited some of Jiya's dry humor, it would seem. Then she snapped out of it, when she saw girls staring at the pair. (But of course, she would have to take note of that mental image for later.)

They walked, Aoshi's hand gently resting on her shoulder, pressing her to move onward to lead them to the infirmary. It was a companionable silence as she tried to recall where in fact she was. It was difficult when the walls seemed to whisper at every turn. "There is *no* way that's her dad." "If my dad looked *that* good, I'd never leave home..." "Uhm, why did she bring her boyfriend??"

As Misao's face burned, she shook her head, pressing her fingertips to her temple - a safe distance from her wound - and sighed. 'This is going to be a long. Long day.'