Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ That Voodoo That You Do ❯ It's In His Kiss ( Chapter 6 )

The Aoiya had been quiet for a good few hours, but Misao couldn't sleep, recounting over and over the day's events. The doll in the parcel, the well rope, drowning and then to wake up to see the only man she had ever loved with concern in his eyes. Concern for her.

Whenever she was given an indication to Aoshi's emotions, no matter how small, she perceived it as an encouragement. It meant she knew him a little bit better, to understand the nuances a little more meant she understood him a little more. She had long ago come to the conclusion that he was definitely one for subtle nuances, whereas she liked the contrast of things that were bold, bright and clear.

There was a tap at her door, indicating someone wished entry. "Come in," she chirped, though not too loudly, and when the door slid open she was surprised to see it was him. "Aoshi…" she breathed.

"I came to see how you were feeling." He said, entering her room and closing the door with minimal noise disruption to the night. He crossed the room to where she was lying in her futon, and knelt beside her.

"Oh, I'm just fine. I'll be back on my feet tomorrow. Gramps worries too much. As leader, I haven't got the time to spend in bed all day, y'know." She offered him a trademark grin, infused with her endless teenage energy.

He looked at her, realising that all the responsibilities of leader now fell on her shoulders. To give her her due, she seemed to be coping well with it all. Yet it seemed to him she was giving up a portion of her childhood. At just sixteen years of age, the Oniwaban group relied on her to lead the way. He was somewhat grateful then for `peaceful' times.

Remembering the secondary reason for his late night visit, he pulled out the earlier discarded doll, still smirking eerily like the original; Aoshi returned it to its owner. No words were spoken, and as it was late, he was about to leave, kissing Misao on the forehead. "Sleep well, little one." He said; rocking back onto his heals to stand. She caught his hand as he did so.

"Aoshi," her voice was barely a notch above a whisper, "thank you… for today… for saving me." He gave her a nod of mutual understanding, but Misao wasn't finished yet. She found herself presented with an opportunity too good to waste. "I want to give you something for that, Aoshi."

Taking on her hint so return to kneel beside her, Misao made the extra effort to sit up. She looked at him, trying to gauge what he was thinking but at this moment that eluded her. In the end she rolled her eyes and took the plunge, pressing her lips passionately against his.

Almost instantly she found he pulled back away from her. "Misao!" Her eyes caught the failing light, amass with shadow they looked as though they concealed endless darkness. She said nothing. "That kind of behaviour isn't-"

"What you wanted." Her voice was strained, as though trying to keep a dam of tears from crying. "I'm sorry, Lord Aoshi."

The formalities back in place were her own way of showing how she hadn't meant to disrespect him at all - far from it. But in truth, Misao and a few others were getting tired of waiting. "But," she added, careful not to look at him lest she lost her nerve, "I'm not sorry."

"Nor should you be."

She gasped a little, half expecting some facial twitch to indicate amusement, but he was the same as ever. To herself, she inwardly growled and thought about confronting him with the idea that sometimes she just didn't understand him at all. Sitting in her futon, she tried to come to terms with his words. Did it change anything? Was she finally getting through his cold exterior? Or was he just messing with her head?

From out of nowhere, she found the courage to speak the words, unaware of what Yahiko was up to, role playing with a couple of fabric look alikes. "Kiss me."

"Kiss you, Misao?"

So, it really was just a game to him. Well, this time, she was determined to play along. "I haven't been able to figure you out for sixteen years, Lord Aoshi, or at least for the ones you were around - but I was still thinking about you… but I reckon the only way I can really tell if you like me, is if you kiss me."

"I like you, Misao."

Oh, so now he was mocking her, deliberately misunderstanding her and making it three times as hard as it needed to be. "No no no, not like me," she looked at him intently, stressing her words, "LIKE ME."

"Will you go to sleep then?" he asked, as though making a deal.

She nodded her head energetically, "You betcha. You have my word."

"Very well."

He made every moment last, as though every moment was a fraction of eternity, preserved in a crystal case. From the instant the skin of his lips brushed against hers, Misao felt a tense tingle shudder every part of her body. It was the kind of kiss that blocked out everything else in the world, and yet heightened all of her senses. Aoshi wasn't really a tongues person, but the kiss was so perfect in every other way that his number one admirer didn't care.

When he pulled away, she felt as though her head was going to explode, swimming with the intensity of fresh memory, savouring each second, and storing it for later recollection.

"So, will you sleep now, and keep your word?" he looked at her, one eyebrow raised, half wondering if gave her the correct intended message through that brief intimacy.

"Like a baby." She replied, settling down in full knowledge she would be up all night. "See you tomorrow, Aoshi!"

He was just about to leave, but hearing the spark back in her voice made him smile a little though he didn't turn back to her and show it.

It was late. The dojo was still, silent and dark when Kenshin returned. He had been sat under the bridge by the river, regulating his breathing and thinking long and hard about things. Nothing specific, but the idea of Kaoru's misery weighed heavily on him.

He had walked back in the same sort of daydream past the ruffian's row, and caught his hand on an out sticking twig. It made him bleed a little on his hand, but he barely noticed it. Where it lay in its corner, his voodoo doll mysteriously conjured a blood like mark on its hand in Kyoto, but Kenshin wasn't to know this. In fact, he had been thinking of his doll for a while. Neither Ayame nor Suzume claimed it belonged to them. Actually, now that it crossed his mind, it must still be outside.

A familiar grey shadow was lurking around the houses. Pacing, damp, and cursing under his breath, it would appear Sano had locked himself out. Of course, he blamed it on the wood swelling, seizing the door where it was. Kenshin chuckled to himself. "You can't stay out here, Sano, that you cannot. You should come back to the dojo with me, and stay. We can look for your key in the morning in the daylight."