The sound of footsteps echoed through the otherwise silent room where Aoshi sat meditating. The sound penetrated his concentration, and slowly he shook off the heavy blankness that had coated his mind. The footsteps halted beside him, and there was the sound of someone kneeling. He knew who it was; he also could tell that something was bothering her. Usually she was able to wait patiently until she had his attention, but now she couldn't seem to be able to stop fidgeting- whether it was tapping her fingers on the ground, or pulling at the long braid that hung over her shoulder. He opened his eyes.
"Aoshi-sama?"
Her voice was unusually timid, and he could hear the beginnings of a request in the way she said his name. "What is it, Misao?"
"I...need your advice on something," she said, twitching uncomfortably. He waited, watching as she took a deep breath. "Aoshi-sama, how can I get everyone to stop calling me Misao-chan?" she burst out.
He raised an eyebrow, secretly amused by the question. "Does it matter?"
"Yes! I'm Okashira now, right? But how can I possibly convince anyone to take me seriously when they call me Misao-chan, like I'm a child?" He eyed her steadily, and she glared back at him. "Don't you look at me like that, Aoshi-sama. I am not a little girl anymore. Like it or not, I'm leading them now, and there has to be some way to make them believe that I'm serious about it."
She bit her lip, obviously struggling to calm down. "Look, Aoshi-sama...when you were made Okashira, you were even younger than I am now. How did you get everyone to pay attention to you?"
Aoshi decided to take her seriously, and thought about this. "I never had the problems you do, Misao," he said finally. "The current Oniwabanshuu practically raised you. It will take some time for them to realize that you're growing up. However," he continued quickly, seeing that she was about to interrupt. "Is your situation so difficult? You already have their loyalty, if only because they care about your well-being. Eventually, you'll earn their respect."
Misao's eyes narrowed as she considered this. "Huh." Her face was skeptical. "Is that so?"
"I believe so, yes. These things take time, Misao."
"I hate waiting," the girl muttered. Her eyes glanced up at him, then immediately looked away. Aoshi winced inwardly, knowing what she was thinking about, and was silent.
The silence stretched out, and became uncomfortable rather than companionable. Misao sighed and stood up. "I should probably go back. There's still a lot of work to do before we're finished building the new Aoiya, and it's almost dark."
"Be sure you don't hammer your thumb again."
She glared at him, some of her good humor restored- just as he had intended. "Are you ever going to let me live that down?"
"No."
"I'll get you for that, Aoshi-sama. Another day, though. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
She skipped off before he could respond. Aoshi watched her retreating form until she was out of sight, then closed his eyes once more. But try as he might, he couldn't recapture the concentration he'd had before her visit. Eventually he gave up and stood, walking out to the balcony that overlooked the streets of Kyoto. He watched the city preparing itself for nightfall, and before long his thoughts had wandered back towards Misao.
She was so determined, he mused. She wanted so badly to be equal to her duties as Okashira. She reminded him very much of himself, years ago, when he had been in a similar position...and yet, they did things so differently. Where he had locked himself away, hiding his emotions so that they could not affect his judgement, she showed everything unreservedly. In doing so, she had won over the Oniwabanshuu as surely as he had, though for different reasons. He had earned their respect; Misao had their love and admiration.
The same determination, different methods, similar results...the comparison was interesting. More interesting was the fact that Misao was completely unaware of her progress. She was changing day by day, growing older and more responsible, more confident. Before his eyes, she was changing from a spunky girl into a capable woman. And yet, she had so much more she wanted to learn...every time she came, she had more questions, wanted to know more about things he had done as Okashira, or things that her grandfather had done.
And yet, strangest of all, she never pressured him. She had offered him his title, once, not long after he'd come to the temple. He'd refused, and that had been the end of it. She never asked him to return, never even mentioned it. She merely waited, taking it for granted that one day, he would end his self-imposed exile. Confident that eventually, he'd return to her.
Would he?
Aoshi didn't know. If he had been asked upon his arrival to the temple, weeks before, he would have said no. He had betrayed everything he'd once held dear; there could be no return for him. He would find what peace he could and then leave Kyoto once more. That had been his original intention. And in truth, the quiet of the meditative life was alluring...but while the time he had spent in contemplation had enabled his bodies' wounds to heal, it had done nothing for the emotional scars he had collected.
His mind shied away from thoughts of his actions over the past several months; he could not, yet, bear to think about them too clearly. Every so often a memory would appear suddenly in his mind, but with a will of iron he thrust such thoughts away as soon as they came. It was only in his dreams that they tortured him; during the day...he did not think much at all.
The idea that he would be welcomed at the Aoiya was unbelievable, even though Misao had given him the impression that such was the case. He wanted to go back; hearing stories about the others, every day, had created a desire in him to once more be a part of the impromptu family the Oniwabanshuu created for themselves. It would be good to speak with Okina again. To apologize. Additionally, he was curious to see how Okon, Omasu, Kuro, and Shiro were doing. How had their skills developed? How had they changed? There were other operatives spread through Kyoto, some of whom he didn't even know.
And the idea of a life without Misao somewhere in it seemed very quiet and dull to him, now...
Aoshi focused his thoughts. Such ideas were useless, and he knew it. He could not go back; his actions had closed the way.
But neither could he bring himself to leave Kyoto.
The sun had set some time ago, and the city was mostly crowded. Aoshi's trained eye could pick out shadows moving in the darkness; a couple walking home, a shopkeeper closing up his store. All at once he was exhausted, weary to death of being unable to decide what to do with himself, unable to be certain of what he wanted. Of what was right. What did he know about right and wrong?
Scowling inwardly, Aoshi walked back into the temple, towards the small room that he'd been given as his for the duration of his stay. His kodachi hung on the wall; he didn't even look at them. He hadn't touched them since he'd arrived here, not even for practice.
Tired, he lay down on the pallet and tried to sleep. Eventually he slipped into unconsciousness.
Into dreams.
Remember.
"Aoshi-sama."
He turned.
Han-nya's eyes were filled with revulsion as he watched Kanryu walk away. "It's true that this is a job, Aoshi-sama. But are you sure you wish to work for such an employer? He has no honor."
Aoshi closed his eyes briefly. "I owe him a debt. This is the best way to repay it. You do not have to accompany me."
"You know that we'll never leave you, Aoshi-sama. Not if you led us into Hell itself."
Remember.
The young man looked up immediately as footsteps approached him. "Aoshi-sama?" he asked, astonished. "What are you doing in Tokyo? I heard that you and the others had left Kyoto, but..."
"Do you still keep in touch with Okina?" Aoshi asked abruptly.
The young man answered automatically, the habit of obeying orders still strong. "Yes, Aoshi-sama. By carrier pigeon, usually."
"How are things?"
"The restruant is doing well. Everything's been quiet, except that Misao's planning to track you down and drag you back to the Aoiya. She had a fit when you left, and her anger doesn't seem to be cooling."
"Ah. I would prefer that you not let her know that I've been in contact."
The young man's's grin faded. "It would be kinder to tell her you're all right, Aoshi-sama. She worries."
"Perhaps. Tell Okina that we'll be in Tokyo for a while. How have you been since we were disbanded?"
The young man shrugged. "Sometimes I miss it. My life now is too quiet, sometimes. It's not bad, though. I work at a shop in town. The owner's daughter is very pretty." He smiled again.
"Good."
Remember.
Himura Battousai's eyes looked seriously- almost sadly- into his. "Aoshi, if you want the title of "strongest," it's yours. It's not something I'm proud of." The eyes narrowed with determination. "Right now, saving someone, and returning to someone who's waiting is a thousand times more important!"
The hilt crashed into his chin.
Remember.
He stood in front of four graves, arms hanging limply by his sides. The palms of his hands still stung with pain; he had dug his fingernails into them hard enough to draw blood. Hands and clothing both were covered with blood and with dirt; he had dug the graves with his bare hands and the hilt of his kodachi.
He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by grief. This is my doing. If I had beaten and killed Himura Battousai, they would still live. They trusted their lives to me, and I failed them.
All I can do to make it up to them is to complete the task I could not finish before. Kill Battousai. Perhaps then, the Oniwabanshuu will be remembered with the honor they deserve.
Remember.
"I don't intend to work for anybody. Especially for a cruel man who would sacrifice his own men to test the strength of an opponent."
"So you noticed that?" Soujiro smiled. "But you must be fairly cruel as well, if you knew they were sacrifices and still didn't think twice about slaughtering them."
Remember.
He looked up from Okina's shattered body, startled by the sound of the door being thrown open, and their eyes met. Steeled grey eyes, meeting blue eyes that were wide with shock, horror, and grief. Misao's entire body trembled, and her expression was that of someone who sees they have been betrayed, yet cannot quite accept the fact. Her lips formed his name, soundlessly.
For the first time since he had set himself along this path, Aoshi doubted.
Am I mistaken? Do I honor my friends' memory, or betray it?
Have I gone too far?
No. I cannot doubt now. It is too late; I am held to this course, and will see it to its completion. Whatever the cost.
It was the most difficult thing he had ever done, but Aoshi forced himself to look away from her- this girl, whom he had befriended, trained, and cared for, once upon a time. In silence, he walked past her, through the doorway and out into the sunshine.
She screamed his name, and the desperation in her voice was more than evident.
Aoshi paused, and said the words that bound him completely to the path he had chosen.
"Get out of here. And never show your face to me again."
He heard her sharp intake of breath, and forced himself to walk away without looking at her again. She didn't say a word, didn't move, and it was by that that he knew how deeply she had been hurt. For Misao to be left without actions or speech...he willed himself not to think about it, and left.
Remember.
"Your Okina still lives." Shishio's voice was dry and amused, as always. The implication that Aoshi had been incapable of making himself kill his former friend weighed heavily in the words.
"He is tenacious," Aoshi replied simply.
"Is that so? A pity...but he will not trouble us further. And without his guidance, the Oniwabanshuu are severely limited."
"Yes."
Shishio took a long drag from his pipe, leaning easily back in his chair. "The pieces all come together. Before long, Battousai will arrive here, with the wolf and that other idiot. Everything will truly begin when that happens."
"Everything will change!" Houji burst out excitedly. "This weak government will be destroyed, and a new age will begin, under the rein of Shishio-sama!"
Aoshi snorted. "I don't care about your political philosophy. All I want is the Battousai."
Shishio's lips curved into a smile. "Is that all you want?" The question was suggestive, and Aoshi's eyes narrowed in response. Shishio's smile grew broader, and he smoked at his pipe without concern or fear. "Hmm."
Aoshi was silent.
Remember.
"Misao is a strong girl. I don't think she should have anything to do with the Oniwabanshuu, but she'll do fine on her own."
"Did you know that this strong girl wept when I promised to bring you back? No matter how strong she is, she's only sixteen. She must have been desperate, in the midst of a harsh reality. There's no one else in the world who can honestly answer for those tears. Are you still trying to run away from reality, Aoshi? Take back your strong heart! And call back your lost honor! The time that stopped moves now! The time to awaken is now!"
Remember.
Aoshi sat bolt upright in bed. The man beside him removed a hand from his shoulder immediately, stepping back. "Good morning, Shinomori-san."
It took a minute for Aoshi to remember where he was, and to recognize the man next to him as the monk who acted as the caretaker for the temple. He released a deep breath slowly as the confused images swirling through his mind gradually sorted themselves. "Good morning."
The monk looked at him curiously. "You look pale."
"I...did not sleep very well."
"Were you dreaming? What about?"
His voice was curious, and Aoshi's retort was harsher than he'd intended it to be. "Illusions. Only illusions. Nothing important." Just memories...
The monk was unpreturbed. "There is truth to be found in dreams, Shinomori-san. You should let yourself listen to them."
Aoshi rubbed his brow with his fingers as the other man quietly left the room, the dreams still flashing through his mind. He had a quick glimpse of his first battle against Himura Kenshin, the moment just before his defeat...Himura's sad eyes looking at him, and the hit of his own kodachi pressed against his throat. Returning to someone who's waiting? Aoshi thought, thinking of Misao. Himura said that no one else in the world could answer for her tears... I still haven't, but she continues to watch over me.
To wait for me.
He stood and dressed, then hesitated, looking at his sheathed kodachi where they hung on the wall. I've lived on the edge of violence and in peaceful seclusion... but I still don't know what's important.
Perhaps she knows. There's only one way to find out.
With determination, Aoshi took his kodachi from off of the wall.
************************
It took some time to locate the new Aoiya, but the closer he got, the easier it was; from several blocks away, he could hear the cheerful shouts of Okina, Misao, and the others as they worked on the building.
He turned a corner and there it was; a collection of rafters and sawdust, and a handful of already finished rooms. Okon and Kuro were arguing loudly, pointing at a particular beam that was leaning against a finished wall. Shiro was balancing another section of wall while Omasu measured one of it's sides. Okina stood off to the side examining some blueprints closely.
One by one they each noticed him and fell silent. Okina began walking towards him, and Aoshi watched impassively, waiting for whatever words of reproach his once-friend had for him.
Okina stopped in front of his former Okashira and smiled broadly. "Welcome home, Aoshi."
Aoshi's eyes widened with surprise, and he held out a hand, which the older man clasped firmly. But his gaze had already flickered away, looking for the one person who remained unaccounted for.
He finally saw her sitting on a beam, an impossibly high distance off of the ground, hammering nails into part of the roof like a maniac. Watching her- waiting, and aware of the astonished expressions on everyone around him- he was all at once... uncertain. It was an odd feeling.
All at once she noticed him, and promptly brought the hammer down hard on her thumb. Aoshi chuckled, smiling to himself as she winced and sucked on her thumb for a moment to ease the pain. She grinned and waved down at him. "Ne, Aoshi-sama!" she shouted. "Come help me with this!"
Aoshi placed his small bundle and the sheathed kodachi on the ground, picked up a hammer, and easily climbed up the oddly-assorted walls to the roof. He sat down across from her and watched her for a moment. She was still grinning madly at him. "Weren't you listening when I told you to make certain not to hammer your thumb again?" he asked in a mild voice.
She stuck her tongue out. "All right, I'll just have to hammer yours instead. Hold this nail in place for me."
"No, thank you; I value my fingers." He picked up a nail and proceeded to drive it in at an appropriate point with the hammer he'd brought up with him.
"You dare to disobey a direct order from your okashira?" Misao hmphed. "Be good, or I'll make you work as a cook in the new Aoiya."
"Obviously you don't remember how terrible my cooking is. We'd lose all our customers within a week."
Misao scowled. "Then I'll make you wait tables!"
"Hai, hai..." he said, reaching for another nail. Her small hand covered his much larger one suddenly, and he looked back up at her.
Her grin had turned into a smile. "Okaerinasai, Aoshi-sama," she said in a quiet voice.
He turned his hand over beneath hers and clasped it for an instane. "Tadaima."
They both went back to hammering nails into the roof, rebuilding.
Okaerinasai: Welcome back.
Tadaima: I'm home.
Actually, in the mange, Aoshi didn't stay at the temple. He visited it everyday, and then eventually just sat in his room at the Aoiya meditating all the time. But I kind of liked this idea, so I wrote it anyway.
Sent comments, criticism, flames, donations, and cookies to ashfae@duct-tape.mit.edu.
S. Ashley Burns AKA Ashfae
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Pagoda/8264/anime.html