Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Fumbling Towards Ecstasy ❯ The Struggle Within ( Chapter 6 )

See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.

Gomen nasai for taking so long. I hope it was worth the wait. ^_^

No, actually I'm not trying to kill people. I would rather you stayed around to give me more reviews. ^_^ And I haven't gotten a death-threat-review yet, but I have gotten a "continue or I'll sick Aoshi-sama on you." Does that count?

You're all spoiling me! I never expected this many reviews so soon. Not that I'm complaining…keep it up! ^_^ Arigatou gozaimasu to Shojin Takaru, Nye-Yen, laughlines, Lee Jung Sook, Kyme-chan, Emiri-chan, Tifa-sama, Chri, and Sweetgrass for your reviews. ^_^

Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

Chapter 6: The Struggle Within (Aoshi's POV)

A week went by, and I hardly saw Misao at all. She still brought me tea, but she no longer sat with me while I meditated. She was always busy with her training, running an errand for Okina or Omasu, or just leaving whenever I came back to the Aoiya.

Even though I thought this was for the best, the way things should be, I was still…disappointed. And the more I thought about it, the more I wondered: why was she doing this? Was she trying to give me the space I had essentially told her to give me when I asked for more time? Was she just occupied with the Oniwabanshuu or the business of running the Aoiya?

Or had she found someone else?

I did not think the latter was the cause for her sudden absence. Okina would have said something to me. He would not have been able to resist the chance to taunt me about it, about how slowly I come to realize my feelings in matters such as these.

It irritates me how well he knows me, how he knows exactly what to say and what not to say to get my attention.

Strangely, even though I'm sure Okina knew what I was doing, he left me alone. I think he was hoping that I would come to some sort of conclusion on my own, and that he'd just be meddling needlessly if he interfered now. Then again, it probably helped that I purposefully evaded him by staying out in the garden until well after he had gone to sleep.

It was very peaceful out there, in the pools of shadow and moonlight. I could see the warm glow of the windows of the Aoiya, but the light did not intrude on the darkness of the garden. And sometimes, I could see Misao's silhouette as she passed the window over the garden path on her way to her room.

My thoughts were wandering. Irritated, I firmly reined them in, forcing them back to the reason that I was sitting in the garden.

Whatever Misao's reasons for her sudden absence, I was undeniably confused. Could it be that she was trying to teach me a lesson by avoiding me as I once avoided her? Or was it revenge for leaving her in the temple, crying because I'd rejected her once again?

What else could I have done? If I'd stayed, if I had gone back to her, I would have done something irrevocable. Even a week later, sitting out in the garden like the coward I am, waiting for them to go to bed before I went in, I could still feel the softness and warmth of her body in my arms. It would not have been so terrible to go back into the temple, apologize, and take her into my arms again.

But I could not afford to trust my self-control around her, so I left her there, crying and in pain from my abrupt rejection of her.

It's funny. Himura sought to bring me back to dry Misao's tears, but all I have done since I returned is torment her even more, bring her more tears. When will it end?

When she was younger, Misao thought of me as her Aoshi-niichan. I protected her from the bakemono in her nightmares, I helped to teach her the basics of kempo, and I spent time with her whenever I had a free moment. In every way, I acted as the proper older brother. But I never saw her as a little sister, this child that I helped to raise.

I truly did not know how I felt about Misao. All I was certain of was that I did not like to see her suffering because of me. I felt so helpless and unsure of myself remembering the cause of her tears, not knowing what I could do to make them stop without making them worse or ruining her life. Some days I wondered why I hadn't just left the Oniwabanshuu several months ago and spared myself the agony her presence caused me.

No. I couldn't do that. Even though I could never have her, even though feeling like this would drive me insane, I couldn't leave Misao again. I had already hurt her so much; I couldn't do it any more. Her tear-filled eyes would haunt me forever, no matter where I went. I'd never be able to escape them, or the fear that she might forget me.

That's what it all came down to: cowardice. I was stuck, unable to move forward, unable to find my way back. If I encouraged her, she would be tainted, but if I left the Aoiya, she would be hurt.

I sighed. My thoughts weren't making much sense, even to myself. I looked up at the warm glow of the window above me just in time to see Misao's shadow flit past it. A moment later, the window darkened as the lamp was extinguished.

That was what I had been waiting for, but I did not move. I'd seen Okina pass the window earlier on his way to bed. Okon and Omasu were probably still out on their double date (I'd heard them tell Misao not to wait up), and Shiro and Kuro were both visiting relatives in Osaka. With Misao and Okina asleep and those four away, the Aoiya seemed practically deserted.

It would be easy to gather my few possessions and be gone in less than an hour.

It would be easy, but for my promise to Misao.

Don't go. Onegai, don't leave me!

So I wouldn't.

By this time, the night was growing cooler. I was getting nowhere with my frantic circles of thought, so I decided to go up to my room. Perhaps if I slept, it would help to sort out these strange thoughts.

What comes next is hard for me to tell. It is not quite the hardest thing to put into words, but I do not like admitting that this happened, that these events affected me so much.

The halls of the Aoiya were very dark, but I needed no light to find my way. I knew every creaky floorboard beneath my feet, every uneven step, and every jutting nail waiting for an unsuspecting bare foot.

As I passed Misao's room, I paused, drinking in the tantalizing scent of vanilla. Okon had introduced her to scented soaps, and for a while I smelled something different every time she came to visit me, or when I walked past her room. She'd finally settled on vanilla. I never told her, but it was my favorite scent.

Before I realized it, my hand was half way to the thin shoji. My fingers actually touched the wooden frame before I stopped myself from opening it.

Okina was a heavy sleeper, unless someone who did not belong entered this hallway. The others were not there. No one would know if I -

No, that's not true. I would know, and this sin would damn me and her to the deepest pits of hell. I backed away from Misao's room, brutally chastising myself.

This lack of control was unacceptable. It had to stop, before it was too late.

I kept seeing Misao, lying on her futon, bathed in moonlight, sleeping peacefully. Blissfully unaware of the impure thoughts in my mind, dreaming her innocent dreams…I truly was a monster for wanting her this way.

Misao, I-I need time.

I was such a hypocrite. I knew what I wanted. I just couldn't have it, no matter how much time she gave me.

I closed the shoji to my room behind me firmly. There. Now that I was inside and the door was shut, I would not leave the room until morning. I undressed quickly and lay down on the futon, but I had no illusions of a peaceful night's rest awaiting me.

My return to the Aoiya had begun the nightmares, as my unconscious mind spat the darkness I engulfed myself in back in my face. Most nights I woke gasping for breath, after a dream of the awful moment in which I turned from Okina's battered, bleeding body at my feet and met Misao's horrified blue eyes.

Most of my confusion and uncertainty came from these nightmares. Every night, Misao's eyes accused me in my dreams. You killed him, they screamed louder than words. You killed Jiiya! Traitor! Coward!

Yet every day, Misao smiled at me when she brought me tea. She talked and laughed, and her blue eyes sparkled with life. She told me silly jokes (well, she thought they were silly - I suppose that's what counts) to make me smile, did silly things to make me laugh, and told me stories to involve me in her life.

I did not understand. The sharp contrast between dreams and reality was beginning to take its toll on me. My conscience identified more readily with the Misao that blamed and reviled me, but the other Misao still cared, had even kept me on a pedestal all these years. I did not know which one to believe.

Without question, the other Misao posed the bigger threat. She was the one who stirred the emotions that I didn't want to feel, much less acknowledge. She was the one who uprooted my defenses with one look, the one who tore down my barriers with a simple touch. I had only kissed her once, but I was afraid to think of what would happen if I kissed her again. If she ever learned how much power she had over me…I did not know how much longer it would be possible to protect her from myself.

My eyes slowly drifted shut, and I was suddenly walking down an unfamiliar road. The narrow track cut through a bamboo forest, leading toward the setting sun. I could hear the wind singing in the trees, but other than that it was silent.

The long wooden sheath containing my twin kodachi was in my left hand. I was wearing my trench coat, and I could feel the wind tugging at the lapels, trying to force it open. The breeze caught and shifted my hair enough to reveal Misao walking next to me.

For a moment I watched her out of the corner of my eye. Her pretty face was uncharacteristically grim, and both of her hands were filled with kunai, the little sharp knives she combined so well with Hannya's kempo. Strangely, this did not concern me.

"Stay close," I cautioned her. Somehow I knew it was important that she not leave my side, though I could not say why.

"Hai," Misao replied, her voice subdued.

I could feel something coming, something hidden in the shadowy bamboo trees. The forest was rapidly darkening, the sun slipping beyond reach below the horizon.

No matter, I thought, drawing first one and then the other kodachi from the sheath. I'll protect her. I won't let her suffer anymore.

We kept walking; growing more and more uneasy with each moment that passed. Neither of us dared to speak. The only sound was the wind in the trees.

Suddenly, several shadowy, black-clad ninja burst from the trees. They surrounded us, eerily silent. Each one brandished a katana, and the blades were glowing red in the dying sunlight.

Instinctively, I stepped in front of Misao, shielding her with my body. She put her back to mine, and we tensed, waiting for the inevitable attack.

"Forgive me, Aoshi-sama," a strangely familiar voice I couldn't quite place seemed to whisper from nowhere and everywhere at once, "but this is necessary…"

There was no time to ponder the meaning of this. As if the voice was some sort of cue, the ninja leaped forward like liquid shadows, their blades poised to strike. I raised my kodachi to counter them, slashing and kicking at the things that fought and moved like demons, making no sound at all as they were sliced open like rotted fruit.

They kept coming, their black-clad bodies thick as a swarm of flies. For every one I felled, two more took his place. I realized after a few moments that they were trying to separate me from Misao - and they were succeeding.

I paid little attention to the amount of ninja coming at me and falling easily underneath my kodachi. My mind was consumed with panic, for I could no longer see Misao. I could hear her angry shrieks and occasional cries of pain, but I no matter where I looked, she was not there. The need to be by her side was overwhelming.

And then I heard her cry out in anguish, "Aoshi-sama, tasukete!"

My eyes widened. An icy shaft of pure terror sliced through my heart. No. This was not happening. I would not lose her so easily.

The horde of ninja was abruptly gone, leaving only the bodies of their dead behind in broken heaps like discarded toys. I spun around, scanning the carnage for Misao.

I found her curled in a spasm of agony, her slender body covered in blood and several large gashes. I was too late. She was already dying.

"Misao!" I could not stop myself from reaching for her, even though I knew that if I touched her it could only make it worse.

"Aoshi-sama…" she half-whispered as I gathered her crushed body in my arms. "…tasukete…" The light was already fading from her brilliant blue eyes.

"No," I moaned. "No! Misao, don't leave me!"

The next thing I knew, I was sitting up on my futon. Cool moonlight streamed in through the window, gently illuminating the room. My heart pounded against my ribs, my head ached, and my breaths rasped in my throat.

It had just been a dream.

"Aoshi-sama!" The shoji rattled violently as it was slid open, and a wide-eyed Misao was instantly at my side. "Aoshi-sama, daijoubu?"

I didn't want her to see me like this, drenched in sweat and shivering like a small child in the cold air. I didn't want her to notice the tears I could feel tracing icy paths down my cheeks. She would think me weak and helpless, an infant frightened by a mere dream, if she saw them, and she would know that the invincible façade I had worked so hard to maintain was all a lie.

I shrank away from her small hand on my arm, realizing that I must have cried out loudly enough for her to hear me all the way down at her end of the hall. I just hoped that Okina had not heard me too - that was almost worse than having Misao run to comfort me like this.

Never mind that the dream felt so real. Never mind that I could still see the light fading from her eyes, the blood staining her creamy flesh, pooling in her dark hair…

Misao muttered something I didn't quite catch, and the morbid images receded. I stared at her in amazement. Her voice had banished the demons, but she didn't seem to notice that my heart had ceased its reckless pounding, that my breathing was calmer, more focused. Her presence should be a nuisance; instead it was a soothing balm to newly opened wounds. The relief shuddering through my body was a heady sensation, but I would not tell her that.

She knelt beside me and put her hand on my cheek. I couldn't help but gasp at the scorching warmth of her palm on my chilled skin, and my hand raised to trap hers instinctively.

It was like her heat burned through the layers of ice suffocating me. I was so tired of being cold. Surely it was all right, just this once, to let her warmth blanket me. I couldn't remember ever feeling this way about anyone. I would not let this go yet.

"A-Aoshi-sama?" Misao asked tremulously.

"I'm all right," I whispered to hide the quaver in my own voice. My breath spilled over her hand, and she shivered. "It was only a dream."

"You…you called my name," she blurted, and flushed a brilliant scarlet. "You told me not to leave you. I-I mean…" She trailed off on a squeak, apparently unable to look at me. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Iie," I said vehemently, inwardly cursing myself. Would I never regain my control? Of all the times to cry out in my sleep, why now?

But at the same time, I was wondering when this vision of Misao would vanish, leaving me with the reality of her lying dead in my arms. I wasn't entirely convinced that this Misao was really here. Why should fate be so kind to me now? What have I ever done to deserve any sort of kindness from the sweet creature kneeling next to my bed, blushing as she tried to comfort me?

I looked at her, and my throat closed shut. She was so embarrassed, so endearingly earnest in her concern. It humbled me, that she could feel this way about a wretch like me. What did she see in me that I couldn't? Was she so blind to the monster within me?

"Nani?" Misao asked self-consciously after a moment. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

She pulled back a little, shifting her hand beneath mine as if to take it away. Her withdrawal, however slight, left me feeling cold and empty inside. It was too much. I couldn't let her go.

"Misao," I said, and she froze, looking at me with wide, trusting eyes. I swallowed hard. "Gomen nasai. I-I couldn't protect you…"

The memory of her broken and bleeding body surfaced briefly, and I pulled her warm, lithe form against mine to make it go away. This had to be real, I told myself. Please, Kami-sama, just once, let this be real…

Misao's arms came around me, the gentle pressure of her embrace cutting off my frantic thoughts. It replaced the bloody image with one of Misao, safe and happy, in my arms. I sighed into her hair, relieved. Finally, the nightmare was gone.

"Daijoubu, Aoshi-sama," Misao murmured soothingly. "Like you said, it was just a dream." She held me tightly, leaning her head on my shoulder with a faint sigh.

She smelled wonderful. Her small body was so warm and soft. I never wanted to let her go. But I had to tell her…

"I failed you, Misao," I whispered. "So many times…"

"Iie, Aoshi-sama," she whispered back, and I could tell that she was smiling. "I'm all right." She pulled back a little in my embrace to look into my eyes. Her hands cupped my face, holding me still. "I'm safe. You don't need to worry." She let her fingers slide down my face in a soft caress, then dropped her hands to her lap.

I let myself look at her now, realizing that she was straddling my legs. My arms were still around her waist, cradling her gently. The thin cotton yukata she wore clung to her curves provocatively, tantalizing me with hints of soft breasts and slender hips. Her long hair was free of its customary braid, streaming in dark waves over her shoulders.

My eyes trailed up to her face, noting that she was staring at me, a pretty flush still suffusing her cheeks. Her slightly parted lips caught my attention, so soft and inviting.

I reached up to push a stray lock of her silky hair behind her ear, letting my fingers graze the soft skin of her cheek. Misao shivered at my touch, and her eyes never left mine. My other hand cupped the back of her head, tilting it back slightly.

"Aoshi-sama," she breathed just before my lips met hers. She moaned softly, arching against me.

Sweet, searing pleasure swept through me at that innocent caress. She wasn't rejecting me, and I wasn't strong enough to even think of pushing her away. My blood hammered in my ears, and I pulled her up against me with the desperation of a drowning man.

What can I say? I am human, after all, in spite of all I've done to try not to be. She was so soft, so willing and warm, how could I not claim her? She fit perfectly against me, like we were made for each other.

The rest you do not need to know. Suffice it to say that it was the most beautiful night of my life, and that I never wanted it to end.

But the sun always rises the next morning, and last night's choices do not always look the same in the dawn's light.

TBC…

Inieda-sama…I like that. ^_^

Chapter title from Metallica's The Struggle Within. I forgot what album this song came from. (If you haven't noticed, I have very eclectic taste in music - I hope that means I don't run out of songs to use for this…)

So many things you don't want to do

What is it? What have you got to lose?

What the hell

What is it you think you're gonna find

Hypocrite

Struggle within it suits you fine

Struggle within your ruin

Struggle within you seal your own coffin

Struggle within

The struggling within