Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Curl ❯ Chapter 22

No. He didn't like to remember those times. Those years he had spent in England.

And this had been one of the reasons why. Most memories, Aoshi harbored with him like anti-bodies of a deadly disease. This one person… Kamatari Honjou, however, he had blanked out entirely.

'I thought this was a CATHOLIC school…' Aoshi numbly walked through the hallway with a recovering Misao dragging her limbs behind her. She had to cradle her jaw to walk out the room, afraid she would break it if it hit the floor one more time that day. 'How could they allow an okami - unless… no, they'd *have* to know!' This was ridiculous. This was a mockery of the whole education system of Japan, of the whole wide world, even. Not only had the teacher in question cross-dressed in a religious institution, Kamatari had successfully gotten away with hitting on one of his student's guardians - with witnesses no less. The conduct… the blatant disregard for personal space, and any sexual harassment law ever put in place on this earth…

'That Honjou.' He'd also gotten away with looking really good in a skirt. The sinking feeling in Aoshi's stomach dragged him down into the seat in the next class, and grounded him there for quite a bit. He was slowly rolling over in his mind the number of times he inspected Honjou to figure him out. Kamatari had been a character back in school, but this… Aoshi was entirely blindsided. Worse off, Misao was in his class, and it didn't look like it was going to turn out pretty.

It wasn't that he had anything against people of that persuasion. He just didn't appreciate them to hit on him in front of the woman he… lived with. Who knows what kind of influence someone like Kamatari would have on Misao.

The image of Misao licking her pinky and blowing kisses at guys was not settling his nerves, not at all.

*-*-*-*

Misao hadn't yet gained her senses, and sort of drifted into her seat, like a lost boat somehow finding its way to port by some lucky star. No, she was more like a candy wrapper that the wind picked up and found itself in the proper trash receptacle seven feet away. Somehow, miraculously, she was in her next class.

This room was set up differently than the others. There were long counters that had two high stools at each 'station', each equipped with a countertop stove, oven, and drawers with labels listing all the items that were contained. The walls were lined with shelves with various bowls of all shapes and sizes, and pans and things. In a corner at the front of the room there was a cabinet with a paper sign taped onto it, "Aprons and Hairnets."

The young woman was only knocked out of her stupor when a strong hand brushed up against the side of her arm. Her head finally turned to notice her companion folding his arms on the counter top, staring off towards the front of the room. He wasn't paying attention to the teacher.

'At least not *this* teacher,' her lower lip poked out without her realizing it. Sure, Ms. Honjou was attractive, but hadn't he seen how he treated her? Misao knew this was going to be a rough transition, but she didn't realize she'd have to face seven different types of hell in the last twenty odd minutes. She was listing them off in her head… being caught off guard, being reprimanded on the first day of class… being utterly demeaned by some prissy flirtatious hussy skank who decided that Aoshi-sama was going to be her next conquest… Her blood began boiling as it had not too long ago. And what had he done about it?

'Nothing!' He sat there like the sword in the stone, and said absolutely nothing. No objection, no refusal… it was like he was… 'Masaka… He couldn't be… with… my TEACHER?!' This just won't do. Not that she was jealous or anything, '… because I'm not.'

Nope, she wasn't. She was just openly willing to execute a woman for looking at a man for too long. This man who made her hormones run six different ways and lived under her roof - er, well she lived under his… but that had absolutely nothing to do with anything, of course.

She was going to kill Jiya. All of this was his fault, after all.

*-*-*-*

'He can kill me for it later,' Sano sighed, leaning back in Aoshi's furo. It's not like his brother was home, and it's no good to let a good bath tub go to waste. He wasn't going to ask why Aoshi had a wide range of bath oils and things… there was just way too much smut he could dredge up for about those.

Sano sat back with his neck curled over the cool white porcelain rim of the bath, a damp warm towel draped over his forehead. He hadn't turned on the fan, so the entire room was foggy with a steaming haze. He liked it better this way. When he was like this… enveloped in warmth, he felt so at ease. It felt like home.

Home to him wasn't really a place. It was just a feeling he had way down deep that he never got the courage to mutter. Nothing mattered there, and everything was alright. There was no past, and no nagging concerns for the future. It was just a calm vacant existence. Peace.

It's where he went when he didn't know what to do, or when he had nowhere else to go. He couldn't call his friends and be like, "Hey, I need to have a heart to heart with someone…" or some soapy opera crap like that. The only person he ever really told things like this to was… well, Misao, who currently was not an option. She was his one and only… imouto-chan. He sighed and let himself sink under the water till it brimmed just below his nostrils.

'At ease, General,' He scowled into the bath water. Rolling his eyes to a close, he slipped his head under the steaming bathwater.

His home was with Aoshi now.

*-*-*-*

Misao was watching Aoshi like a hawk. Part of the reason being, she was checking out how he reacted with this teacher. First he had total animosity for that rather delicious - er, intellectual. Then there was the mini-episode where he kept her from blowing her top at the ballet teacher… that had been the most Aoshi-ish thing he'd done since the break between classes. And now he was cavorting with the enemy.

Honjou Kamatari had just made Misao's shit list, that's for sure.

*-*-*-*

Aoshi was a cat. Or at least, he had to be. This was going to be his third death today.

'This. Cannot. Be. Happening.'

The only sign that he was about to thrice meet the grim reaper was the fact that he didn't blink as a woman, and her daughter made their way into the room, bumbling apologies for tardiness. His mind had shut down for that brief moment as the pair brushed passed their station to occupy the empty one behind them.

'Sanjou.' Aoshi idly wondered when he was going to wake up from this nightmare.

===

Author's Note:

This was for those who were wondering why I included the "firsts" interludes so randomly. ^_^;; Originally it was because I had hit writer's block… and then I thought up Aoshi's, and didn't feel write publishing his without doing Sano's as well. If Aoshi was OOC, I'm sorry, I can't really picture the original Aoshi reacting to any of this… just bear in mind, none of his reactions were outward. He's our boy with the inner turmoil. ^_~