Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Curl ❯ Chapter 33

It wasn't like Sano'd never walked her to school before. Back in high school, he made the religious attempt. You know, unless he had to run ahead and beat some guy up beforehand, but oftentimes, he could fit Misao into his schedule. However, this was different. This was supposed to be some sort of penance of some kind, so he decided to behave himself. You know, cut back on the "weasals" and keep his hands to himself.

'...' Pause. '... heh,' Sano scritched the tip of his nose with a smirk, hoping he wasn't blushing. After this 'punishment,' he would have to puppysit. He growned inwardly. 'Damn fucking mutt… bastard furball… flea-bitten piece of shit…'

Misao was oblivious to the goings on next to her of the would-be man who was escorting her to classes that day. Instead, she was mentally preparing herself for the day ahead. 'Watch your mouth. Watch your fists. Try not to kill anybody...' Having Honjou Kamatari's class today made the latter *really* difficult.

"So what's your schedule lookin' like anyway?" being ever so casual, there was no bro like Sano. He was talking to Misao, but he couldn't help the occasional leer at some miss who made it into his peripheral vision. 'Down boy. Not around the weasel.' He was already in hell and high water with her in that playing field. This whole hormones, men-women, sex thing was spiralling out of control. Next thing you know, he'll be trying to get Misao into bed - at the very last second, Sano stumbled in his path to prevent from walking into a stop sign.

"... uhm. It's okay," Misao blatantly lied. If Sanosuke found out she was taking ballet, there was no way in hell she was going to live it down. It was just better for certain things to be left unsaid. Hopefully she'll be able to get her way out of it... as soon as she figured out where she had to go to get her courses changed.

"... that bad huh?" He tried not to smirk. He tried to sympathize really. But with the amount of pleats that were appearing before his eyes as they neared the school, he couldn't help but revert to his primal instincts. "Whatcha takin'?"

Misao thought how to tactfully avoid answering directly, "... you know. This, that, the usual." She winced when she saw Sano's expression. She'd somehow transmorphed into saran wrap, 'cause he was seein' right through her.

"... oh reeeeaally," Sano put a lilt in his voice, and a spring into his step. "This. That. And the usual," he repeated, and Misao nodded with a sheepish look on her face. Oh no, she wasn't going to smile this one off. "Well, call me crazy... or maybe I've just not been in school for a while - but exactly what would the 'this' and 'that' be?" He promptly got a few paces ahead of the girl, and cut her off staring down at her. It reminded her of the time when she saw *the video* in biology, and tried to sugarcoat it. One thing Misao had learned at a young age was that one of the biggest things that annoyed her about Sano was that she could never get away with keeping things from him. At least, not for very long.

"... you know..." Misao trailed reluctantly, trying to find a way to pass Sano without bumping into innocent pedestrians or street fixtures. The lampposts were getting way too familiar with her forehead lately. "... there's a science in there... some history... that 'this' and 'that.'" See? That wasn't LYING persay! - It was just a half-truth. Sano couldn't *handle* the truth.

At least, not maturely.

Apparently, Misao must've done something in a past life to please the gods because before Sano could answer anymore, there was a battle cry and the sounds of loud running in their general direction. Immediately taking a defensive stance, Misao braced herself for impact - though, soon realized that she had not been the target.

"YOU! I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM MY GIRLFRIEND!" Misao shook her head slowly. Collecting herself, she held her forehead in her palm. They had been in this town for what? Three? Four days? And Sano had already gotten a challenge. She blinked at the concrete, 'It couldn't have been… *that* woman????' Now, Sano could take care of himself. But, for some reason, Misao was intrigued. She'd never *seen* the woman. Maybe she could get just a glimpse or something - to see what she was up against…

"… eh?!" Falling back onto the wall in front of St. Catharine's, the braided girl watched as some pint-sized school boy chewed at Sanosuke's head. "Sano, what the hell did you do?!"

"Lay off it weasel girl!" the runt barked, as he was plucked off his perch by a not so pleased Sano. As the boy found his footing on the floor, he looked Misao over. The action earning him a swift knuckle sandwich to his cranium.

"Hey, that's my weasel your checkin' out." A pause. Misao looked at Sano. Sano looked at Misao. Of course, by the rules of conduct that is teenage social etiquette - both blushed, and looked at away. A quiet voice came up behind Misao, nearly scaring her back to normal.

"… ne, Makimachi-san?" It was that girl she'd met the other day with Aoshi. She smiled at Yahiko, who blushed along with the taller boy. Apparently, there was something in the sky that was drawing both their interests. When Misao just blinked at her, "… anno, I remembered your name from cooking class..."

"… hah, she needs it," Sano whispering, elbowing Yahiko in the ribs, and both chuckled off to the side. He made note to goad her about it later. Misao could only cast a brief glare, as she didn't want to be rude to the girl… whose name she couldn't remember to save her life.

"Uh, yeah… right!" She looked for a way to get around the fact that she didn't know how to address the girl, "You can call me by my first name -"

"Weasel," both boys - well, one boy, and one boy in a man's body - chimed. Misao growled at the two, she was sure if she said that then the girl would have said it was alright to call her by her first name… And in turn, *tell* her first name, therefore, Misao wouldn't have to reveal having forgotten it. She had the excuse of being the new girl in town, but she also had pride. But thanks to these buffoons, her plan was ruined. Not to mention, they also made her look bad in front of her one possible friend in this stinking hell hole of a plushy prison…

Both males blinked as the girl in front of them began to steam at the ears. Yahiko pssted Sano, tugging at his sleeve. Both had their eyes transfixed on the girl who was approaching in slow, hard falling, stomps. The smaller boy whispered shakily, "… she's pretty violent for a girl."

"… why'd ya think she's switchin' here in her last year?" Sano hushed back. Luckily, or unluckily as the case may be, Misao was beyond listening to their asides. She was cracking her knuckles as the two slowly began to sidestep away.

"… ne, Maki-Misao-san? We should be heading inside soon…" Saved by the waitress girlfriend. The millisecond Misao turned her head, the boys made their retreat.

*-*-*-*

'So much for a good first day,' Misao grumbled silently as she sulked at her lunch table. She had gotten half way through the day, and was sitting across from her new friend, Tsubame, and some… other girls who all looked the same and had the same high pitched voice and all talked about the same stuff. She'd have to put up with a whole year of this. What she couldn't get was how Tsubame could stand these… *people*. If these vacant would-be Barbie dolls could carry a conversation that didn't not have the word 'like' 'hot' or 'kawaii', *maybe* Misao would tune in. Or there was the dreadful combination: 'he was, like, so hot, but like, so kawaii, all at, like, the same time, like oh my *gawd*…' She couldn't refrain from shuddering at least once.

It was half past noon, and Misao now knew what drove teenagers to binge drink. If only these Catholic Girl Skipper dolls were the worst part, but no… It was when she had tried to change her schedule that things went wrong.

First thing into the building, Tsubame - whose name she finally found out by asking for her class schedule, helped her find her locker. Misao asked where she could get her own changed, and then Tsubame showed her to the school offices, which was next door to the teacher's lounge. And who else would be there?

None other than Honjou Kamatari. Or 'Honjou-sensei.' Misao grimaced at the thought of having to show this skank respect. '… that slut was all over Aoshi-sama, I swear if she touches him again I'll… I'll…' Honestly, she had no idea what she would do since she didn't really know why she was getting so territorial in the first place. But it didn't matter *why* - right? It just mattered that she wanted this woman's head on a platter, and tagging a "-sensei" to her name didn't put her any lower on Misao's shit list.

Was that the worst of it? No, of course not. Because this was Misao's personal hell. Not *only* had Honjou-sensei wormed her slimely digits onto Aoshi-sama… but now they were on Hiko-sensei. The door to the teacher's lounge was open, and Misao and Tsubame got the perfect view of Honjou-sensei's hand making it's way into Hiko-sensei's blazer. 'Now that *HAS* to be against the rules…!' As Misao began to roll up her sleeve to march right in there, Tsubame tugged her towards the office, whispering.

"Misao-san, please remember it's the *first* day…" She hadn't known the girl long, but Misao hated it when she was right. So, she allowed Tsubame to pull her into the direction of the office.

And now it was half past noon. Her schedule didn't leave much room for change. Apparently, her dear old grandfather had locked specific courses that she *had* to take, and some that were requirements to graduate. She was able to switch to physics, which was about the only good thing all morning. However, that had its own backlash. It caused Honjou-sensei's class to be the first class of the day. Misao could recall sitting in front of one of the school staff members and glancing up at one of the many crucifixes tacked up on the back wall and thinking, 'Please kill me.'

*-*-*-*

It was now 2:15PM, and the phone rang. Aoshi was overseeing as three cleaning ladies were sterilizing his quarters back to perfection. The one vacuum that had been on was turned off, and Aoshi nodded to the woman in appreciation as he picked up the phone. His eyes narrowed at the faint teeth marks he could feel under his calloused fingers. Scowling over at the dog that had been leashed outside on the balcony, he answered.

"Shinomori residence, Shinomori Aoshi speaking." He briefly wondered if he always sounded like a tape recording, or if the Pine Sol was going to his head.

"Aoshichi!!"

SLAM!

All actions in the room ceased as Aoshi slammed the receiver down. Not him. Anything but him. What the hell was he calling for? How'd he get this number?

2:16PM. And the phone rang again. The cleaning ladies glanced between each other, watching as Aoshi's hand twitched over the receiver. The only other thing giving away the kryptonite qualities of the phone right then was the flaring of Aoshi's nostrils - though that could've been a side effect of the Pine Sol. Drawing in a silent breath, Aoshi picked up the phone and held it to his ear.

"… Aoshichi? Why'd you hang up on me!" the voice squealed. It was blatantly feminine, but nobody. And that meant *nobody* - called him that. Except for, "It's me! Kama-chan! How are yooou?" The lithe in the man's voice made Aoshi want to puke.

Stoically proceeding, calculating each syllable, "Honjou." Okay, so he needed more time to prepare.

"You're being so coooold, Aoshichi. You haven't changed at all!" Aoshi could *hear* the pout. He was shamefully reminded that he briefly found this man attractive in that … attire.

"Neither you," Aoshi did not continue. He obviously wanted to know what the hell this was about, and he knew Kamatari knew that. The man was afraid to ask. He knew anything he said this man would turn against him, and probably lace it with sexual innuendo. Frankly, this was just not something he wanted to hear right now. For all he knew, it might subconsciously manifest itself in another dream - hell just thinking it might, could do it… '… damn it all.'

"… well, down to business." 'Finally.' "This is about your current ward. Am I right in assuming that one Miss Makimachi is in your custody?" Kamatari's voice was eerily professional. Aoshi was not fooled for a second. When he didn't answer, the other man continued, "I thought I should be the one to inform you that she will be late coming home due to the fact she will be detained after school today."

There was a drawn out silence. Another silent question passed between them. The cleaning ladies, as sweet as they were, were also nosy, and weren't getting much to go on from Aoshi's end. They'd gone back to work, trying to be as quiet as possible, mostly so they could eavesdrop. It wasn't everyday an eligible rich bachelor called in not one - not two - but three cleaning ladies. Especially when one's employer was this particular rich eligible meticulous anal retentive man.

"Her conduct was that unbecoming a lady of our highly awarded institution," Aoshi tried not to sneer, for the proof of otherwise was on the other end of the line, "And so I regrettably had to enforce punishment. Of course you understand…" And the kicker, "Shinomori-san." Another pause.

"You know… Aoshichi…" It had been too good to be true, Aoshi silently growled, "If you would like for me to come over… You know, for some private, more… intimate lessons… I'm sure I could whip some shape into -"

"I appreciate that you notified me of Misao-chan's impending tardiness this afternoon. Goodbye," his offered gratitude that was completely thankless, and was punctuated by Aoshi hanging up the phone. What the hell could she have done on the first day? And the *nerve* of that man... soliciting him on the phone! If his investigation hadn't been cut short, Aoshi would've probably easily found enough to shut down that school and yank Misao out of there before gravity could enforce its pull on that braid of hers.

His mind wandered back to his investigation as it came to mind. And although the Honjou route had yet to be explored, if for no other reason than reluctance to bring back old memories… At least he'd had a minor glimmer of satisfaction in the Hiko case.

*-*-*-*

Earlier that morning, before the tragic demise of Ralph Lauren, Aoshi was turning the gears on the work day to come. The way he was feeling hadn't change much in that passage of time, as both times he had recalled wishing her were an alcoholic. It was a little hard to focus at first… especially considering the lack of sleep the night before. 'Correction. Lack of restful sleep.' Not to mention his various other mental distractions. However, he was able to reclaim some of his former self and looked as stone-faced as ever as he strode through towards his office. His lovely assistants, Omasu and Okon, quickly rode up to his flanks. Each had armfuls of paperwork, 'Yippee.'

"I have the information you requested on a Mister… Kakunoshin Niitsu? Alias, Hiko Seijurou…" Aoshi stopped in his tracks. With those magical words, Aoshi was back on track, in effect, ready for action, good to go. Okon promptly flipped open one of the file folders in her arms and set it in his hands. He held it carefully, as though it was the lost gospels, but he revealed none of his gratitude outwardly. It seemed like everything was going to fall into place, go according to plan… then again, Aoshi's no psychic and had no way of predicting the magnitude of torture he'd have to incur once he stepped back into his apartment.

There was a picture, and a general dossier that Aoshi could tell Okon had written up. He would have to remember to give her a raise. As he was skimming the dossier, succeeding in blocking any right of passage with a secretary at either side of him, a metal mail cart pressed into his thighs in front of him. The icy gaze rose slowly from his current priority to look into the clear blue eyes of a young man standing behind the cart, obviously the new mail boy. Said boy was currently bowing his head with his palms pressed together letting out a stream of apologies.

"Gomen gomen gomen gomen Shinomori-san! Gomen gomen!" Aoshi barely had a chance to blink before he'd heard a dozen apologies. Definitely gotta cancel Starbucks'.

"Ne, it's alright..." Omasu soothed, bordering on cooing. She suspected if he continued apologizing, the poor boy would get on their boss's nerves worse than if he hadn't said sorry at all. Aoshi had better things to do, and so took no note of said boy Omasu had granted him and walked to pass him until he saw the boy blinking at the picture on the file in his hands. The boy jumped back, walled against one of the nearby cubicles, and was sputtering apologies again. On most other days, Aoshi didn't mind being intimidating, however, this boy obviously had information.

"Do you know this man," He wasn't much for questioning either. The boy stopped his nodding, both to acknowledge he was being spoken to and the fact that he was afraid he might incur some personal irreparable damage. Although, the boy's answer was obviously positive, because he nodded again, wincing. Perhaps he had incurred some internal damage from shaking his brain so much. But, Aoshi noted, he didn't stop smiling for a single beat. Starbucks'.

"Ne, Shinomori-san, he's new here," Omasu chimed. Apparently, she already had some affection for the boy. Aoshi barely glanced between the two. 'Of course,' he mentally sneered, 'because he's kawaaaaaaiii.' He internally gagged, and crossed his fingers hoping that new introductions wouldn't lead to new dreams. 'Great. First I'm fantasizing about people related to me, then people older than me, male and female alike… and now I'm after young mail boys.' Aoshi wondered if those doctors up on their high chairs had a medication for such a predicament. When did his life become a plot for a porn movie? His mind wandered, which it hardly ever did, and he found that this was a dangerous state of mind to brood. His eyes narrowed, dangerously, as a sign of his focus on the now *extremely* nervous young man.

"He's part of the co-op program," Okon assisted, her arms hugging the files in her arms to her chest. She didn't know what was going through her employer's mind right then, but it would be such a shame if this boy had his face rearranged because Shinomori-san got up on the wrong side of the bed. She glanced at Omasu, who was visualizing similar acts of violence… They both had worked there long enough to know when Aoshi did not want to play games - not that he did much at all, but hey - working here meant free Starbucks'.

Aoshi seemed to be visually inspecting the boy with a fine toothed comb. The boy offered a bow and a wave with a trembling hand. Short dark hair, blue eyes - and he looked awfully young to be here, but… None of these observations were answering his question, and he curled his hand over the handle of the mail cart, leaning dangerously towards the boy.

"Do you. Or do you not. Know this man," Aoshi held the file up in front of the boy's face. The boy glanced at the menacing manner Aoshi's knuckles had turned white over the handle of his innocent mail cart, and decided against nodding for he was starting to get a headache. When Aoshi had his mind set on something, nothing (and no one, regardless of how 'kawaaaaiiiii') escaped his wrath.

"Hai, Shinomori-san!" The boy apparently regained some confidence, because he was not able to stand without assistance from the wall. Aoshi almost expected the boy to salute with the manner he made that proclamation. Holding back a sigh, the man raised a single eyebrow prompting the boy to continue. "… h-hai," the boy acknowledged this and went on with his story, "Well I saw him at a bar a while back when I was with some friends of mine…"

The boy watched as his employer straightened up and pointed to the picture, "Are you sure it was this man?"

"Hai hai!" The boy's eyes disappeared, as he shone with pride and confidence. Pausing a moment, to watch for a sign to continue from his employer (who basically held a whole *chunk* of his future at the tip of his fingers)… "I couldn't forget that man, sir! He caused this huge brawl! Took on at least a dozen men on his own - unarmed no less! Not to mention he had all the waitresses fawning over him… What none of my friends wouldn't give to have been him with every lady in the house crawling over him… He must be some kind of stud, I mean he was awesome, and his strength was almost inhuman! - he was…"

Okon quickly cut in with a sharp cough, appearing at the boy's side to cut in with a soft whisper under her breath, "… he teaches at his little sister's school."

"… he's an awful awful man, who should learn some manners and etiquette," the boy finished nervously, with an audible "gulp." Aoshi seemed to have no reaction to the information that was just fed to him, particularly the tail-end. The young ones always felt the need to kiss ass. The man flipped through a couple pages quickly skimming, and then nodded, as if acknowledging the boy's story as true. Without looking at him, Aoshi spoke again.

"Name."

"Hai hai! Seta Soujirou, sir!" This time, the boy *did* salute. Aoshi raised an eyebrow slightly, an odd thought coming to mind. This boy's uber-genki ways reminded him of… someone…

"If you see or hear anything else about this man…" Aoshi trailed, as he turned to walk away, getting back to business.

"I'll come straight to you, yes sir! You can count on me sir!" As the words escaped his lips, however, Aoshi was already striding away. He got all he could get from the boy for now, but he took note that he may be of some use in the future perhaps.

*-*-*-*

Soujirou let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding and felt a soft hand rest on his shoulder. It was a comforting gesture. After all, a run in with the boss on your first day at work was never a good omen. The hand disappeared and waved, where he offered a gracious smile in return, and the two secretaries went after their employer who was heading to his office. None of the trio watched as the boy deflated onto his cart momentarily, before returning to his smiling shining visage and went back to work.

He was young, strong… He'd survive. Even if Shinomori-san breathed down his neck, Soujirou was committed to success. Somewhat of a genius, he'd made his way into the co-op program two years before he should've been admitted. He should've been in his last year of high school, but here he was in a second year program at a prestigious research firm.

'This is it Soujirou. You can do this.' It was just like back in high school when the larger boys thought that they could take him down just because he was smaller. No way, no how. Shinomori Aoshi was just a big bully like those guys back in school (one name coming to mind immediately), and Soujirou would show him his best. Digging his heels into the floor with new resolve, he took hold of his cart and held his chin up high with a bright stunning smile.

'Back to work!' He cheered silently as he continued to pass out various envelopes and packages.

Kids today. They just bounce right back, don't they?