Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ The Alchemy of Gold and Silver ❯ Understood ( Chapter 9 )

Chapter 9

 

He who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.

-Voltaire

 

*****

 

Three months had passed since the events at the warehouse, and Shinomori Aoshi still couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something.

 

According to detailed reports from Kaoru, Misao, and a number of his other agents, Kurogasa was a former hitokiri for the Isshin Shishi, and yet the organization had sent their best assassin after him. That much actually made sense. It would do them no good to have a man on the loose who could expose internal secrets at his whim.

 

What was more difficult to explain was the fact that he wound up in the custody of the Shinsengumi, and without protest from the Battousai. What does it mean? Aoshi could conceive of no way in which allowing such a thing to happen would be advantageous to the rebels. If the Shinsengumi had captured Jin-e alive, then they could take as long as they needed getting the information out of him. Unless he doesn't have anything important… but then they wouldn't have sent the Hitokiri Battousai.

 

His reasoning had come full circle, and he was no closer to grasping what was undoubtedly a crucial fact. He let a rare sigh whistle between his lips. Perhaps he just needed to forget about it for a bit, maybe go meditate at that shrine again.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his door, and he grunted assent. The intricately-painted rice paper and wood slid aside to reveal Kaoru, looking rather contented. Sometimes I wonder how she manages that.

 

She bowed, less formally than the first time they had met, and he gestured easily for her to be seated. The speed with which he had come to trust the swordswoman had surprised everyone, none more than himself. But the justification was there: she was a strong, loyal soldier who followed orders scrupulously. That alone would have been enough to satisfy him. Yet this trust, this subtly familiar pattern of interaction, was something he shared only with a few, and it was less a product of Aoshi and Kaoru the Oniwaban as it was Aoshi and Kaoru the people. She did not ask unnecessary questions, or seem to expect any particular behavior of him; indeed, she was as content in silence as he. It made for little conversation, but a great deal of understanding. If Aoshi Shinomori was of a mind to call anyone friend- and he found himself suspiciously close to that mindset at times- his dead comrades would be first on the list, followed by Sano and Kaoru. Misao was… well, she didn't seem to fit in that particular mental category for some reason.

 

All things to be thought about later, when there was time and the war was done. For now, though, he brought his attention back to the immediate present.

 

“You have a report?” he asked quietly. Judging by her manner of dress, she'd just returned from an undercover stint at one of the city's most well-known geisha houses. Having been raised exclusively by men, Kaoru had few of the skills required for such a job, but she'd taken to dancing easily enough, and her tea ceremony was good as well. He suspected a few weeks of near-constant practice and several visits with Takani Megumi were responsible for that.

 

Truly, it was not his preference to waste a soldier on a spy's work, but the Oniwaban had few enough female members that all of them took the geisha shift at some point. He personally would have ended the practice years ago, but the White Chrysanthemum, frequented by the wealthy and powerful, had very strict rules of conduct for patrons and geisha alike, meaning that it was minimally risky, and an excellent source of information.

 

Kaoru seemed to understand where his thoughts were going, because she smiled wryly. “It's really quite surprising how much a closemouthed official will tell a harmless geisha, ne?” she asked, gesturing deftly to her heavily-embroidered green kimono.

 

He nodded, and she took it as an invitation to continue. “Everyone's growing tired of the war. Nobody said anything specific to me, but it's there, the undertones of the weary.” She sighed delicately, and he felt the corner of his mouth twitch. She must still be in character, so to speak.

 

Catching sight of his face, the swordswoman grimaced and rolled her eyes. “I know. I feel like I have to get out to the practice yard right now or I'm going to get stuck this way. Anyhow, it's not just the mostly neutral ones, either. Everyone wants it to end. The Shogun's lapdogs are looking a little spooked, too.” She gave him a look, and he knew what it meant. He was right.

 

She had, of course, included in her report of the Kurogasa incident the words the Shinsengumi soldier had spoken to the Shishi's manslayer. Yet another piece of the puzzle that does not fit.

 

Kaoru surprised him with a question. “How loyal to his cause is the average soldier, I wonder?”

 

Aoshi caught her angle, but said nothing. He wanted to make sure he understood where she was going.

 

Tilting her head sideways in thought, she continued, “It seems as though those loyalties are not like the ones here. Perhaps they were formed the same way: by people with a common ideal. But what happens when that ideal no longer seems possible? Would a soldier have any reason to be truly loyal after that? Besides duty to superiors, I mean.”

 

“I hope you do not mean to suggest that soldiers will simply choose to leave the battlefields.” Still, she might have a point. Both sides' foundations are crumbling as they confront the realities of a war that has gone on far longer than they were prepared to deal with.

 

She nibbled at her bottom lip, and he saw the stubborn hope in her eyes. Sighing inwardly, he chose to end the meeting. “At any rate, I thank you for the report. You should get some rest before your next assignment.”

 

Kaoru looked as if she would say something else, but, true to form, she bit it back and stood as he did. “Of course. You should get a break here and there, too. I think Misao was looking for you…” she raised an eyebrow, and he shook his head slightly. Her expression sobered, and she shrugged wordlessly.

 

They both knew that wasn't something he had time to deal with right now, but there was a quiet persistence in her manner that reminded him that the matter of what to do about Misao would not just go away.

 

He could strategize and puzzle over political motivations all day, but this alone was something he avoided with all possible determination. Occasionally, he would wonder why, but even this was venturing too close to the topic for his liking. I need to go meditate… clear my head.

 

***

 

Katsura stared Himura down from behind his desk. Yes, the boy's eyes were indeed unnerving in their brightness, but there was no way the older man was looking away right now.

 

It had taken some time, but he'd eventually unearthed the truth, or at least part of it, from his hitokiri, and he wasn't sure if he should be celebrating or despairing.

 

The Shishi commander hadn't reached the position he was in today without a healthy respect for orders. Neither, though, had he ever supported the introduction of hitokiri into the ranks of his organization. Himura himself was a special case- he'd always had a soft spot for the boy. At first, he'd thought the young man would be the one to prove that an assassin need not lose his soul to carry on; after a few years, he was walking proof that Katsura's instinct had been right, that there was no way to live that life without permanent, irrevocable harm. Now, it seemed, Himura was regaining some of what he had lost.

 

Yet he was also in direct violation of the rules. The rules stated that any manslayer receiving a target was to kill that target, with as little loss of other lives as possible. This was why Katsura had noticed, but not prohibited, the presence of the sakabatou. If Himura wanted to avoid killing non-targets, well, that was fine by him.

 

But not only refusing to kill a target, but turning him over to an enemy organization- that bordered on treason, the penalty for which was a swift, merciless death.

 

So it was with a heavy heart that the man regarded his subordinate. “Will you not at least give a reason for your actions? Were there extenuating circumstances…” Come on, Himura, give me something, anything I can use to save your life. Katsura knew that there had to be some outside influence causing Himura to act so out of character, or at least making it easier.

 

His query was met with silence, and Katsura despaired. Closing his eyes and placing both elbows on his desk, he interlaced his fingers and sighed. Think. There has to be a way… It would not be long before the damn war was over, and then this progress that Himura was making would be more than welcome. Katsura cursed himself for wishing that his manslayer's conscience would have waited a bit before reawakening, if indeed this was what was happening. It certainly seems like it, anyway.

 

Almost as he had given up, an idea took root in his mind. Perhaps… that's it! He couldn't not punish Himura, but that was only if he knew the result of the hitokiri's mission. This plan would mean drastic things, but surely it was the only way they could both survive this.

 

“Himura,” he began calmly as possible, “I want you to listen closely.” At the young man's nod, he continued. “What you have just done is classified as treason. Should your superiors find out, they will no doubt be obligated to order your execution. If, however, you were to lie to them, and tell them the mission was completed as ordered, it may be some time before any evidence surfaces to the contrary. As such, you could take your normal break before your next mission without interruption. I imagine that I would not call on you again for at least three days. Of course, should you not be present at that time, I would have to send a search out for you.”

 

The hitokiri's eyes glinted, and he nodded slightly.

 

“Would you care to file an official report on the status of your last mission, Himura?” Katsura raised an eyebrow in invitation. It was certainly contrived, but it was this technicality that made everything else possible.

 

“I found the one called Kurogasa in a warehouse that he owned. I killed him after fighting my way through his men. Some of them, about a third, died. No others were present. Total casualties: fifteen, including Jin-e.” Himura's voice was flat, and Katsura nodded approvingly.

 

“Very well. I shall see that your report is filed accordingly. I think, though, that it will take some time for verification to come in. Until then, I am granting you three days' rest. Dismissed.” His own tone was just as businesslike as usual, though he had to fight to keep the pride from his voice. It seemed that, in spite of himself, he was pleased to do this for his subordinate.

 

The red-haired assassin bowed more formally than usual, but otherwise the exchange was ordinary. As he made to leave, Katsura spoke again. “I wish you good fortune, Himura.”

 

Another nod was as close to thanks as he would get, he supposed. Not that the one who made him this way deserves any more than that.

 

***

 

“Kaoru!” Misao's voice was a mixture of exasperation and stress that was most uncharacteristic, and her friend frowned.

 

“What is it Misao? Is everything okay?” she did not bother to keep the concern from her voice. If Misao was this upset, then something was surely wrong.

 

“No! It's not okay!” the kunoichi wailed plaintively, and Kaoru waited patiently for her to tell the whole story. Not that there was much to it. “It's Aoshi-sama! He's been at that shrine for three days straight now, and he won't come out!”

 

That's odd… surely he knows he has things to do here. He wouldn't just abandon his duties here, would he? But the look on Misao's face told her it was no joke. “Did he say why?”

 

The kunoichi shook her head. “No, he just up and left. Told Okina to look after things while he was gone.” Kaoru's eyes narrowed as she watched her friend worry her lower lip with her teeth. Something wasn't right here.

 

And suddenly, Kaoru understood. This had been a problem for much longer than she had suspected. At first, it was evident in tiny clues that she had ignored: a lapse of attention here, a hazy stare there. Aoshi was losing his intense focus. It's hard to blame him, given all that he has to do, but… It seemed that it had at last gone too far. Perhaps the stress of being Okashira has caused him to lose himself in his past entirely, perhaps he had simply retreated into the confines of his own mind. Either way, three days was too long to be at it, and Kaoru felt a twinge of frustration.

 

“…I'm sorry, Misao, what was that?” Apparently, the kunoichi was waiting for some sort of answer, though the swordswoman had missed the question.

 

The girl flushed and looked at the floor. “I…I asked if you would go talk to him. Maybe you could make him come back…” the words were scarcely louder than a whisper.

 

“Misao…” Kaoru's brow furrowed, and she looked at her friend with concern. “Why me?”

 

The green-eyed spy met her eyes then, and there was something in them that Kaoru didn't like. Hope, yes, but underneath that… resentment? “It's just… he listens to you. You seem to understand him better than…” she trailed off, and her eyes fell back to her feet.

 

Oh, I suppose that explains it. But she has it all wrong! Sure, I understand Aoshi, but I'm not… Kaoru felt the small smile crease her lips as she raised an eyebrow speculatively. “Misao, I think you misunderstand something. It's true that Aoshi and I have a great deal in common, but I talked to him just the other day. If I was the one who could bring him back, he wouldn't have left at all.”

 

The female samurai was inwardly satisfied when the bitterness that was so unlike Misao leached out of her expression, to be replaced by confusion. “I don't understand.”

 

Kaoru sighed theatrically. “Look, I agree that someone needs to remind Aoshi that he has responsibilities here, and people who care about him and rely on him. But there is someone who knows him even better than I do. Someone who's been with him since the beginning, who knows the pain he's been through, but is able to get past that and live in the now.”

 

She watched with amusement as recognition slowly dawned in her friend's expression. Misao's eyes grew wide, and a grin broke out on her face. “Of course! I gotcha, Kaoru!” Without another word, Misao dashed off, doubtless to give her leader a piece of her mind.

 

For her part, the swordswoman shrugged and headed out to the practice yard. It was time to instruct Yahiko. She could not keep from humming a merry little tune as she went. And I thought I knew nothing of affection…

 

***

 

Megumi Takani entertained no such delusions. She knew a great deal of affection, and perhaps even something of love. So it was no surprise to her when she nearly lost it that day.

 

She had been tending Yahiko, who'd received a couple scrapes from Kaoru's training. While the boy himself was quite insistent that he needed no such thing as bandages, Kaoru was stubborn about his health. Should her will alone ever fail to suffice, the much more gentle mannerisms of Tsubame convinced him.

 

The fox smiled slyly to herself. The boy would do anything for his childhood friend, that much was obvious. Whether it was lingering guilt for her imprisonment or a sign of something else, only time would tell.

 

“There you go,” she said, tying off the final bandage. “You should be good to go now, little Yahiko.”

 

“Don't call me little,” he groused, then, gruffly, “thanks.” Megumi suspected that Kaoru would have his hide if he forgot his manners around anyone, and nodded her acknowledgement, watching him dash off. No doubt to earn more bruises.

 

She was cleaning up the supplies she'd used on Yahiko when she heard her door slide open roughly without so much as knock and someone barged into her clinic. Turning angrily, Megumi was halfway through formulating a suitably indignant lecture when her breath caught in her throat.

 

Her eyes landed first on a man she knew as Katsu, the Oniwaban's explosives specialist. His clothes were torn, and by the look of his black eye, he'd been in quite the fight. His expression was stern, in contrast to the taller companion he was struggling to keep upright.

 

Megumi swallowed, almost afraid to really look at the next man. You're a doctor, you fool! Grow a spine! she berated herself silently.

 

Sano's appearance made her stomach turn for more than one reason. He was grinning like a fool, as if to prove he was fine, though the rest of him suggested otherwise. His lip was cut and bleeding, and that was to say nothing of the gashes on his upper chest, hastily bound with what appeared to be fragments of Katsu's bedraggled garments. Blood smeared his own clothing, as well as his face, and she hoped feverishly that not all of it was his.

 

Her mind snapping back into action, Megumi immediately cleared space for Katsu to aid the barely-walking Sano down. “What happened?” she asked in clipped tones, immediately removing the crude bandages and applying pressure to the wounds when she discovered they were still bleeding profusely.

 

“Ambush,” Katsu panted. “We were set up by an informant. Damn Shinsengumi bastards got him. Had to be twenty of `em. I let off a smoke bomb and got us the Hell out of there, but not before this idiot had jumped headlong into the fight.” He shook his head, though it was clear the two were close friends, there was no denying the foolishness of such an action.

 

“Sounds like something you ought to report,” she replied without feeling, switching cloths.

 

“Yeah I gotta head back, but… is he gonna be alright?” Katsu seemed to hesitate.

 

Megumi nodded slightly. “The wounds are bleeding a lot, but they're not too deep. I've got the supplies to take care of it, though he's going to be out of commission for a week at least.” The professional doctor's voice was back in full effect, though she hoped the dark-haired man could not hear the tremble that shook her to her spine in it.

 

When he still did not move, she opened her mouth to say something that sounded more certain only to be interrupted. “Katsu,” Sano managed, “I've dealt with worse than this before. You know that.”

 

His friend gave a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, I suppose you have. Fine, I'll go report to Aoshi-san immediately. But you'd better obey the doctor's orders, you big idiot.” Managing a weak smile of his own, he stood abruptly.

 

There was a weak chuckle from her patient, then Megumi watched the other man leave. “All right, that's enough talking from you,” she grumped, trying to ignore the irrational fear building painfully in her chest. I wasn't lying to Katsu. He'll recover, so there's no need to panic. She cursed Sano for making her care far too much about someone so reckless. “You need to sit up.”

 

“Sure, kitsune-chan.” He managed a smile, and sat slowly, with Megumi's assistance. She could tell that maintaining the posture would be painful, so she worked quickly, deft fingers winding bandages around his upper torso. She couldn't help but notice that the underlying musculature was really quite… ack, no! Stop thinking about that! You're a doctor, and he's your patient!

 

But that wasn't really it, was it? Sano was far more to her than the average patient. He'd been there at the lowest moments of her life, when she felt the most useless and weak and foolish she'd ever been. He'd accepted her for what she was, told her that she was no disgrace at all. He'd believed her actions to be the right ones, and he'd understood why she had to do what she did.

 

Most of all, he'd been there, with his easy smile and deceptive maturity. He'd been there when she'd nearly taken her own life, and somehow convinced her that it was worth something to someone for her to be alive after all. He'd been there when she was tentatively trying to build a new existence for herself, not telling her how to do anything, but just interested in how she would make her own decisions.

 

As she tied off the bandages, Megumi helped him lower himself onto the ground again, grasping one of his hands and using her other arm to steady his shoulders. He laid back, eyes closing slowly, and she'd gone to get up, perhaps boil water for more cloths. His hand had tightened, though, and she'd realized with some trepidation that she was still holding it, so she'd lowered herself again to sit beside him in silence.

 

All this time, she'd known she felt some affection for him, but had fiercely pushed the feelings to the side. Any relationship she was in was bound to turn toxic eventually. Either the men came to take her for granted, or she wound up pushing them away by being too strong-willed or independent. She hadn't wanted to go through such a thing with Sano, hadn't wanted to care about him, only to end up bitter.

 

But surely, the answer had been staring her in the face the entire time. He knew who she was, at her worst moments and her finest, when she was filled with self-loathing and when she was doing what she did best. He'd seen the kind of person she was, and had accepted that. He'd been there with his steadiness and his stupid jokes, never asking anything of her, as though he were waiting for something.

 

And I think I've finally caught up to him. She at last understood. While she'd been content to play the flirtation game, he'd broken all the rules. Because he was serious about it. And now… now I think I might be, too.

 

Yes, if anyone could love her for the fool she truly was, it would be him. And so Megumi sat, her hand engulfed in his, and smiled.

 

***

 

Misao ran all the way to the shrine. Arriving at last at the sliding doors that led to the inner chambers, she stopped to catch her breath, doubling over with hands on knees, a fierce smile on her face. Kaoru's right. I can do this. I have to!

 

Her breathing steadied quickly enough, and she rose, straightening her back and lifting her stubborn chin. Raising a hand, she knocked quietly, not wanting to startle Aoshi. Startle him? What a silly thought! As if Aoshi-sama would be startled by anything!

 

Still, he had seemed off lately, even before this ridiculous stunt. She knew it was approaching the anniversary of Hannya's death again, but had pushed the thoughts aside. How easy it was to believe that Aoshi really was infallible! For the first time, she found herself wondering if her notion of her perfect, immutable protector was childish. And then she had seen the knowledge in Kaoru's eyes, the knowledge that Aoshi was, indeed, human after all, with weaknesses and faults like the rest.

 

Rather than disappoint her, however, this realization eased Misao's mind. I'm not perfect either, but maybe that means I can really help him…

 

She waited, but her knock went unanswered. “Aoshi-sama?” she called softly, knocking louder this time. Still nothing. “Aoshi-sama! It's me, Misao!” She flinched. Of course he knows it's you, stupid! Her brows furrowed. But he's not answering.

 

The idea that Aoshi might be ignoring her on purpose was slow to dawn on Misao, but once it did, she felt a tide of anger rising fast to meet it. Clenching her fists at her sides, she tried to suppress it. No! He doesn't need this right now! He needs someone to understand him, to be patient! Think! What would Kaoru or Megumi-san do?

 

“If I were the one who could bring him back, he wouldn't have left at all.”

 

Misao's hands abruptly loosened. What exactly had Kaoru meant by that? Was it that Kaoru's firm kindness or quiet strength weren't the best ways to handle this? No… I think she meant that I have to do this my way. No matter what it takes. Nobody ignores Makamichi Misao!

 

With that thought firmly in mind, the kunoichi slid open the shrine doors decisively. It was almost a slam, but not quite. Allowing the storm clouds in her heart to manifest on her face when she saw that Aoshi had indeed been simply disregarding her presence, she marched up to where he was sitting with his back to her.

 

When he didn't move or in any way register her actions, she lost a little bit of gusto. “Aoshi-sama?” Misao hated how soft and hesitant her voice came out.

 

A small exhalation escaped Aoshi, and he opened his eyes, turning just enough so she knew he was listening. “What is it, Misao?”

 

The tone was so utterly dismissive, so completely nonchalant, that she felt her ire building again. “Aoshi-sama. You have to come back to the Aoiya. The Oniwaban need you.” I need you. The thought was not particularly surprising to Misao, but the certainty that accompanied it was. Even now, having seen him for the first time as just as prone to mistakes as anyone, she still felt it.

 

Aoshi's eyes closed again, and with a slight shake of his head, he turned back to what he had been doing, which, as far as Misao could tell, might as well be nothing for all the good it was doing anyone.

 

Still, she hadn't missed the resignation in the gesture, and something settled onto her chest like a lead weight. Swallowing, she tried a new approach. Sitting next to him, she closed her eyes too, and tried to match her breathing to his. She felt none of the relaxation that meditation was supposed to bring someone, though, just an increasing sense of urgency.

 

They sat like this for what felt like hours before either one spoke again. “Misao?”

 

“Y-yes?” she tried to keep her voice steady despite the fact that she felt ready to veritably explode with tension.

 

“Will you not leave?”

 

She opened her eyes and looked at him, only to find that he was staring straight at her. Eek! How long has he been doing that? She almost flushed, but hurried to answer. “Not without you,” she said, managing to make it sound steady, resolute. She could have squealed with delight, but that probably would have ruined it.

 

He didn't respond, but neither did he turn away again. Taking this as an invitation to continue, Misao elaborated. “Look, I can't pretend to know how it feels to lose someone so close to you, but…” she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. It was awfully hard to concentrate when ice-blue eyes were boring into your soul like that. “Actually, I think I can.” When he raised an eyebrow, she continued, words gaining speed as she went. “Because I feel like I'm losing you, Aoshi. You've been here for over three days now, and you just left us all without a word. Well, except to Okina, but… it doesn't matter. You left me there, and I- that is, we- need you. If you left for good, I… I don't know what I'd do.”

 

To her eternal shame, Misao felt hot tears springing to the corners of her eyes. She hurriedly looked away, but before she could hastily brush them away, he caught her chin in his hand and turned her to face him again. When she saw the undisguised worry in his expression, she lost it entirely and sobbed once, liquid streaming down her cheeks.

 

“I… I did this?” he asked, so softly that she almost missed it. She tried to shake her head, to reassure him that it wasn't his fault, really, that she'd be fine, but she could not. Because it is you, Aoshi, it is all your fault.

 

Aoshi released her chin, and with an uncharacteristically clumsy movement, brushed his thumb over her cheek, wiping away a tear-streak. When her only reply was another sob, he rose to his knees, and, before Misao had time to react, he had wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Forgive me, Misao. It has- it was never my intention to hurt you. I…” but he trailed off, unable or unwilling to complete the thought, the kunoichi did not know.

 

Momentarily paralyzed, she gradually relaxed into his hold, and let it all go.

 

Some time later, he moved his hands to her shoulders and pushed her out to arms' length, examining her face with an almost… protective sort of look, and she felt herself turn red. The tears were gone, though, and she could have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile flit across his face. Not a smirk or condescending smile of amusement at her antics as when she was a child, but a real smile.

 

“You called me Aoshi,” he said simply.

 

She thought back on it, and grinned in response. “I guess… I guess I did. Is… is that okay?”

 

He nodded, but his face had grown somber once more. “Misao… I need you to understand something.” When she murmured assent, he continued. “I… while the war continues, I cannot-”

 

“It's okay,” she cut in. “I understand. You're the Okashira; you have other things to worry about. Just… promise me that when this is all over, you won't forget.” He needs to be Okashira right now. Maybe later he'll allow himself to be Aoshi again, but for now, I just have to wait. Her grin faded, but a small smile remained. If only he knew how long I've been waiting already…

 

“I could never forget,” was the reply. He stood, sliding his kodachi into his obi, and waited for her to stand as well. He led the way out, back to the Aoiya, and Misao couldn't help but revel in her own happiness. The Oniwabanshu had their Okashira back, and she… she had her Aoshi at last.

 

***

 

Kaoru watched the two of them return. She'd just been to visit Sano, who apparently would be fine within a week or so, and was setting about writing up his report for him when Aoshi and Misao had come back from the shrine. She watched with a secretive smile as Misao veritably skipped in their leader's wake, even Aoshi wearing a much less serious expression than usual. Good. I'm glad that's all worked out, then.

 

To top it off, she'd seen the way Megumi was looking at Sano, and knew that something had changed there, too. Frankly, she wasn't sure she could handle too much more happiness. So she resumed humming the merry tune of this morning and went back to her writing, but not before shooting Aoshi a look that clearly said she knew what was going on, though honestly, she'd be wrenching the details out of Misao before long. Heh… I guess if this samurai thing doesn't work out, I can go into matchmaking… She smiled to herself at the little joke, it wasn't as though she was really responsible for any of it, it just felt nice to nudge here and there. If Hiko-sensei saw this, he'd laugh his head off, I'm sure…

 

She was interrupted from her musings by a shout, and turned to see Yahiko pounding up the stairs. “Guys!” he yelled. “you aren't gonna believe this!”

 

“Slow down, Yahiko,” she admonished in her best bossy-voice. “What is it?” Apparently, Misao and Aoshi had heard the ruckus, too, because both had reappeared from their rooms.

 

“There's a guy here who says he wants to see Aoshi,” the boy panted.

 

“That's Aoshi-sama to you, Yahiko!” Misao put in, but Kaoru was looking intently at her pupil. Yahiko tried very hard to keep his cool, and if something besides her lessons had him this worked up, it had to be serious.

 

Catching her look, Aoshi spoke calmly, but quickly. “Who?”

 

Yahiko glanced at him briefly before returning his eyes to his teacher. “I think it's that Battousai guy.”

 

*****

Kiku's Corner:

 

Okay, so, I apologize to all the action-oriented readers out there (I am one of you), because there was FAR too much mush in this chapter. There was a reason, though, as these scenes do resolve certain plots to a point, and I feel like Aoshi can tone it down on the angst now. Also, this all went here so that next chapter can begin our final sequences of events, which, as you may have guessed, actually involve K&K being on the same general side and interacting lots more! Oh, and Hiko comes back into the story, too. ;-)

 

Thanks to Beth and my readers/reviewers/favorite-ers, the little emails I get when you review/favorite make my day.

 

GreyPhoenix- Good guesses on the scars, you're pretty much exactly right. Also, I think I'll be skipping smaller arcs, I'm headed in a pretty Shishio-looking direction soon…

 

~Kiku~