Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Curl ❯ Chapter 20

He hadn't been nearly outside of the hall when he heard running footsteps coming up from behind him, followed by a stream of muttered curses. The halls were bustling now, everybody trying to get to where they needed to go. It was nice though… the school kept admissions restricted, so that the hallways weren't jam packed, or stifling. He couldn't exactly ignore, however, the appraising looks of the massive female population, and the discerning looks of the males.

When they reached the classroom, pairs of desks were pushed together, and the students' names were on each. Not soon after he sat down, did the chair next to him filled, and a very miffed looking Misao was glaring at him. It seemed as though he wasn't giving he r the time of day, but it was for no other reason than to get another rise out of her.

He considered stopping. Maybe he would even give up on teasing her for the sake of his amusement. 'Naaah.' Aoshi smirked in the back of his head. It was like a part of him awakened amongst these juvenile halls. It was as though the boy he once was became alive again today. Although, practically speaking, if he continued to needle Misao, she might react in such a way that would get her kicked out for misconduct. That would lead to two misfortunes… Misao would probably go back to Kyoto, and Jiya would probably be killed by Misao soon thereafter.

"I bet you think this is funny," she piped up. Her knuckles were white as she strangled her schedule in her lap. He wasn't sure if she was referring to her constant blushing disease, or the dance and etiquette lessons, since he found both rather comical. Wisely, Aoshi kept his mouth shut.

*-*-*-*

Sagara Sanosuke was wrestling with his latest foe: the washing machine. He'd already washed his sheets twice over, but the smell was still there, now it was just laced with citrus. Frankly, the constant sniffing of detergent plastered sex-soiled fabric was beginning to make him nauseous. He cursed and muttered… followed by cursing and yelling after he stubbed his toe kicking the heathen mechanism.

*-*-*-*

History, and English… and even Chemistry had flown by with little incident. Mostly, this was a result of Misao having yet to recover all of her dignity. Now it was ten o'clock, and they had a twenty minute break to show her 'parent' around the grounds.

'I knew this would be a bad idea… I just knew it…' She was kicking a pebble along the ground as they walked towards the stables. Misao was slowly taken from her thoughts by the foul stench of manure, and then she realized where they were going. "Mou… stinks."

Misao had a habit of taking her frustrations out on anything and everything, and right now the object of her woe was walking beside her like he didn't have a care in the world. Aoshi had made her feel the fool several times that day, and she was beginning to wonder if she would do nothing but suffer through this experience with him. The easier part of the day was over, now it was time for… *those* classes.

*-*-*-*

"You say it like it's the animal's fault," Aoshi stated matter-of-factly. His hands were in his pockets; his movements were graceful cross the dirt, and his strides were casual. It seemed as though he was entirely immune to the smell. In truth, the man thought of horses as being majestic, and he was frankly at ease with the world for the moment. It was hard not to be considering his company.

"I was just stating a fact: it smells," she was pouting so cutely, her arms crossed in front of her. Misao's braid swayed with her movements, like a delicate pendulum. He wondered briefly how she would manage to take care of all of it. Aoshi's own hair had been known to tangle, but it wasn't a fraction of the amount that this girl had.

"Then why did you lead me here?" The girl stopped in her tracks, and so he also halted a few steps ahead. Aoshi turned around to face her, leaning forward with his head slightly tilted. Her face was hidden beneath her bangs and her fists were balled at her sides.

"You didn't have to come, you know," she muttered under her breath, turning back towards the main building. Aoshi could do nothing more than blink. He'd expected her to explain, yell, scream and protest in denial. The man certainly did not expect her to turn around and leave in a huff. What had *he* done after all?

'You teased her,' a voice said in his mind. Well, so what? Sanosuke did it all the time, and she never reacted so subdued. It was never like she ever got angry at him for poking fun. Then the voice interrupted him with logic. 'You think you can be her oniichan after all these years?'

Touché. He hadn't been there for most of her formative years, so it was unfair of him to assume that they, too, could have such an informal relationship. Perhaps he pushed his bounds, but he would not apologize now. Apology would be akin to admitting he did something wrong, when at most, he was simply stating fact.

Aoshi caught up to her with little effort, and looked over her strained features. He knew this was hard for her. The calls of "Mom!" and "Dad!" keep them ensnared them in this place. Frankly, he understood. It wasn't easy for her to fit into a place like this, and he wasn't exactly helping, was he? When he had first moved to England, and practically all his time spent there, he had been alone like this, isolated from all others by one thing or the other. Misao was not like these other girls. Aoshi didn't think she could be if she wanted to, it just wasn't her. In all honestly, he wasn't sure why he was acting the way he was… He'd just been so relieved when she began acting like normal again…

'There you go thinking you know her again,' he self-scrutinized. He couldn't help that he *felt* he'd known her his entire life. Aoshi tried to prevent from feeling at all, after all. It was as much of a surprise to him, than his decision to come today had been to her. Things weren't great on the home front, and it seemed that within forty-eight hours the lighthearted rivalry in the house had turned into outright tensions. However, it wasn't his place to say anything. All of it was happening under his roof, but he had no right to say anything. Sanosuke and Misao had a relationship he couldn't begin to understand.

His fist clenched in his pocket without his realizing it.

*-*-*-*

'Stupid Aoshi-sama. Stupid men. Stupid Sano. Stupid school… stupid stupid stupid,' Misao went on with her limited vocabulary. She knew all the curses from A-Z, thanks to big brother Sano, but used very few of them. Unfortunately, this was another side-effect of being a girl. Most swears she simply wasn't comfortable saying, and they felt foreign to her tongue. If not foreign, she found them distasteful altogether.

If she hadn't been born a girl, she wouldn't have to be here. She wouldn't have to have this stupid uniform, these stupid classes…

'Stupid feelings.'

*-*-*-*

Round Two of the Sagara World Wrestling Championship: Sanosuke versus the almighty carpet steamer. Okay, so maybe he was going a bit overboard with this whole cleaning business, but if he ever wanted to sleep in that room again, this just had to be done. The bed was actually made - he remembered to mark the date on his calendar - and his clothes were all put away or in the wash. Now he just had to figure out this new fangled contraption.

He wasn't a big fan of gadgets and things. Not trains, not elevators… wasn't a big fan of cameras either. The only person who could talk him into taking pictures was Misao.

'Misao,' he thought sullenly. He knew in his heart part of why he was doing this was for some sort of repentance… Maybe he would be able to sleep here with the smell, but not with the guilt. With that in mind, he went back to work.

*-*-*-*

Aoshi was about to rest a hand on her shoulder to slow her pace, Misao marching about in front of him. She obviously wasn't really caring where she was going for the time being, but he hadn't quite been paying attention either. Part of her must have realized that she couldn't loose him, but it didn't mean she couldn't try.

She had quickly turned a corner, and then there was a muffled … squeak? This caused Aoshi to stop and blink. Misao… squeaked? He poked his head around the corner, his brow creased at the sight before him.

*-*-*-*

Misao had run ram smack into a very large, very broad chest. Although she had only made contact with it with her forehead, she could easily make out that it was chiseled under that finely pressed dress shirt. She would have willed her forehead to recall more had it not been for the fact that her injury from this morning began pulsing. She muttered something relative to "ow," and slowly brought her gaze up to whomever she'd bumped into, as she felt large calloused hands encase her shoulders.

Misao looked up… and up… and up. The man was tall, and though he must have been older than Aoshi, he was still quite handsome. He had a long curtain of ebony locks that were tied at the base of his neck. Strangely, the long hair made him look anything but feminine. The only word she could think of, again with a limited vocabulary, was that he looked rugged. Even though he stood before her with a dress shirt and slacks, he was quite a fish to catch, that's for sure.

She reigned her hormones long enough to digest that he was talking. Correction, cursing. It was brief, and then he leaned down and spoke in a deep, yet almost patronizing tone, "You alright?"

*-*-*-*

A man came up behind her from around the corner, looking rather young to be her father. The so-called 'rugged' teacher looked back and forth between the two of them with barely a glance. Noting the murderous look in the other man's eyes, he withdrew his hands and safely rested them on either side of him. She looked like she'd seen the heavens themselves, and he looked like he saw the man who killed his first puppy, Spot.

"… d-daijobou ( I am / It is okay )," another blushing beauty to add to the notches in his belt. He was quite accustomed to this breathless reaction, though he remained stoic. When he nodded, responded by her bow, he chose to introduce himself.

"Watashi wa Kakunoshin Niitsu desu (I am Kakunoshin Niitsu). You're new, I take it?" The elder man was tempted to bother her companion further by returning his hand to her shoulder, if not just to wake her out of her stupor.

"Hai, she is," the other man had answered, causing the teacher to blink. Obviously her mouth wasn't working, so why not talk to the iceberg?

"Everybody calls me Hiko-sensei, you're welcome to as well…?" Without actually forming the question, Hiko was silently asking for a name or designation. (It just doesn't sound right to refer back to him as Mr. Hiko, bleh.)

*-*-*-*

"Why not 'Kakunoshin-sensei'?" Aoshi's animosity had let to leave him, obviously. He wouldn't introduce himself until he got some answers about what he just saw. This man looked anything but innocent, contrary to the virgin color of his shirt.

"It sounds cooler." At this, Aoshi's gaze narrowed, the other man just grinned. He didn't like being the butt of anyone's joke, especially not some cocky science teacher. Said teacher crossed his arms in front of his chest, obviously still waiting for someone to introduce themselves.

"Makimachi Misao," Aoshi couldn't help but noticed how quiet and timid her voice had been. It was like when she had said that it was alright for him to call her Misao. What the hell?!

"Makimachi-san," the elder man nodded to the young lady. So he looked good for his age, did that make him something special? Aoshi stepped up to stand next to Misao, toe to toe with this Seijuro person. Where had he heard that name before??... This man's hands being on Misao was just not settling well with Aoshi, particularly with his own history with school faculty. The men never broke their gaze, however. It was eerily stand-offish.

*-*-*-*

'This punk ain't answering my question… what the hell ever happened to respect?' Hiko's patience was being tried, although Misao's apparent appraisal was tempering him somewhat. The way to this man's heart was certainly through his ego. '…or sake.' Or sake.

"It is nearly time for the students and their guardians…" Hiko chose his words carefully, "… to go ahead to the next class." The other man simply nodded, and the educator of many names went ahead with his own business, rather bored now that he couldn't get a rise out of the other man. He suspected however, that they will meet again.

*-*-*-*

Aoshi suspected this was not the last time he would meet this "Kakunoshin Niitsu." His hand rested on the base of Misao's back, gently leading her away and to her next class. It wasn't quite explicable to why he had reacted the way he had, or why his blood pressure went up several knots… but he did realize, however, how utterly tempting it would be to rip this man apart had he found out that this Seijuro-sensei *ever* laid another finger on Misao again.

*-*-*-*

From one dream into the other, Misao slowly fluttered into the conscious realization that Aoshi's hand was possessively settled on her back, and that they were walking rather close. She was starting to feel faint, maybe because of the fact all the blood in her body had this habit of clotting around her cheeks.

*-*-*-*

In another part of the country, an innocent room was being bombed with mass quantities of Febreeze.