From: Chibi-Chiriko This'll be quick -- just a quick big arigatou to all those who've commented so far! I'll get back to ya later... ^-^ P.S. If I made any mistakes, PLEASE tell me, especially in the Reiki part... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ DISCLAIMERS: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki, Jump Comics, Shueisha, Fuji TV and SPE Visual Works. This is a nonprofit work of fanfiction; all original RK characters are used without permission from the owners. No copyright infringement intended. REIKI by: Chibi-Chiriko ACT THREE: Love Rehabilitation Misao wasn't getting better. It had been two days since the break-in, but she never really seemed to heal after that. She only got out of bed a few moments each day, hobbling on crutches, greeting us with tight smiles and a pale, weary face. I'd never seen her like that before -- and I felt a pang of guilt. I would never even know whether she'd displayed this kind of odd behavior before -- hadn't I just walked out of her life, delivering my four loyal comrades into the hands of certain death years ago? And in doing so, I'd been deprived of the chance to watch her grow, to watch her bloom into the person she was now. The person she was now. Rather, the person she had been *before* right now. The cheery, bright-eyed, daring self-proclaimed Oniwabanshuu Okashira, Makimachi Misao. And now that her lively personality had been stripped off her by a fucked-up thief, it was gone, all gone. I didn't know what to do about it. And judging from the sad, quiet faces of the other Oniwabanshuu, I knew they didn't know what to do about it, either. So I remained stoic, silent, dispassionate, as I'd always been, as they'd always remembered me to be. I saw no reason for me to put up a different front. Looking back, I think I was just trying to protect myself from the confusion, the guilt that somehow, all this had been my fault from the very beginning. I tried to block the whole situation off from my mind. I tried to pretend everything was all right when it was not. However... that didn't mean I didn't care. Of course I cared. I cared a lot, I cared probably more than any of them could ever claim to care. Seeing Misao on crutches was enough to send a dart to my heart. When I thought of her, I always pictured her prancing around like a fairy, her footsteps light and airy as though she were dancing atop a glade of flowers. And now... look at her! Her legs were stiff and rigid with pain, and she could barely support herself without the aid of the wooden crutches that looked like they would fall apart any second. It was on the third day that I'd been forced off the edge of the cliff that was my hidden desperation. Misao and I passed each other in the hallway, and I forced myself not to look at her. I did not want to see her the way she was now. Yet I could feel her searing gaze on me, and I could just imagine the tears filling her eyes. She was probably wondering why I was being so cold, so unfeeling and uncaring. My heart was aching deep within me as I felt the intensity of her gaze. Clenching my fists in determined resolve, I strove to walk on -- but not before I heard the sound of wood scraping against the floor, and a sharp cry behind me. I whirled around to see the crutches slip from Misao's grip. Reacting instinctively, I dashed forward, catching her as she fell. I slowly sank down onto the floor, cradling her in my arms. My heart was pounding, and I could feel the blood coursing through my temples. I could feel her heart near mine -- it was galloping as well, and I looked at her, brushing the bangs off her forehead. As our eyes met, I felt a wave of anguish sweep over me. Somewhere inside this shell of agony and fragility was the girl who had stolen my heart from the start. Really, how could I *not* care? "Are -- are you all right?" I found myself whispering. "Yes, Aoshi-sama." Her own voice was barely above a choked whisper. "It doesn't hurt that much anymore... now that *you're* here..." Suddenly, she began to sob, and I didn't think it was because of the pain -- the *physical* pain. I think the pain came from somewhere deeper, like from an old heart wound that had suddenly been torn open. I knew, I'd been having those wounds scraped open too often than I liked. I remembered all those bitter moments when I shivered alone in the icy winter snow, or tossed and turned during sleepless summer nights, without so much as a comforting touch or a soothing embrace. Suddenly overcome with emotion, I brought my arms around Misao in a tender hug, holding her close like I'd never been held during all those dark, lonely moments in the past. *Those times are not for you, Misao* I thought. *You don't deserve them.* And I held her tighter. I felt Misao's shaky smile against my chest. "I've been crying too much these past few days, haven't I?" she murmured bitterly. "I'm sorry; I must sound like a total wimp to you, huh?" And she giggled. I didn't like the sound of it, a short little laugh with no good humor. "You've never been a wimp to me," I said softly, placing my fingers under her chin and holding her face up so that my eyes could search hers. She looked so innocent and vulnerable up close, like I'd never seen her before in my life. "Not even when you cry. Not even when you tremble in fear. You could never be a wimp to me, no matter what happens, you'll be the bravest, strongest woman I'll ever know." Her eyes widened, and I knew she was shocked by my confessions. I almost smiled at that, it felt good, surprising people. "Do you -- mean that?" she asked hoarsely, her eyes betraying her bewilderment. I nodded. "You will get better," I echoed Omasu's statement. "And the two of us, you and I -- we'll start anew all over again. This time, I promise I'll never go again." Misao's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Aoshi-sama," she murmured in wonderment. This time, I actually smiled. I smiled for the first time in years, and it was a real smile. And as I did, I could almost feel the warmth of threads of golden sunlight filtering through the dark storm clouds. There was no way of my knowing that it would be the last time I'd ever smile like that... at her... Tears were spilling down her cheeks, and she seemed to have a hard time handling her emotions. "A-Aoshi-sama," she whispered, a gentle smile adorning those soft pink lips. "I love you." This time, it was I who could not control the emotions that swelled up inside me. "I-I love you, too," I managed to choke out, caressing her tearstained cheek. We both smiled as we held each other close, but little would she know that I had secretly been crying as well. The morning of the fourth day. Kuro and Shiro helped Misao toward the futon. Okon, Omasu and Okina merely watched from the side. I stood quietly by the futon, staring at Misao, who appeared nervous, yet determined. "Are you ready?" Okina asked, not moving from his place. I could tell from the twitch of his white mustache that he was just as nervous. Misao's face was pale, but she nodded and gulped. "Yes, Jiya," she whispered. "I am." "So am I," I muttered under my breath. I took off my trenchcoat, and hung it on a nearby chair. Silently, Kuro and Shiro backed off as I settled down onto the futon. Hesitantly, Misao positioned herself on the futon, lying flat on her stomach. I could see her cheeks flushing red from where I sat, and I smiled grimly. I gently pulled her shirt a few inches up, so that the bare skin of the small of her back was revealed. I heard a soft giggle escape Misao's lips, which at once received a disapproving grunt from Okina. I was careful not to move the leg that had taken the bullet to save my life. Slowly, professionally, I lay my palms on the small of her back, and I heard a low gasp. Outward, I was as passive and stoic as I could look, as my hands slowly moved in small circles, yet deep down inside, I felt desires stirring in me. There was a certain intimate quality in all this, the feel of touching her this way. I had to be firm in reminding myself that I was doing this to *heal* her spirit, to ease the pain, and *not* to content myself. I closed my eyes and inhaled, trying to draw a considerable amount of energy in. I felt my veins come alive, pumping with fresh new vivacity, and when I opened my eyes, the world seemed strangely lighter. I held my hands just an inch above the lower back area, and very, very carefully traced symbols in the air, symbols I knew would initiate the energy flow. I relaxed, and began to breathe in and breathe out, absorbing her energy and letting it mingle with mine, then sending it back to her in a more stable form. I could hear her musing murmurs and it was as though a light blanket had draped over me. I prayed I was doing this the best way I could -- for her. We had agreed on my performing Reiki on her to cleanse her mind and soul, and help her recover speedily. I plunged into the whole healing ceremony wholeheartedly, ready to return the favor she had done for me. I didn't know how long we'd been at it. Two hours at most, or maybe more. The sun was high in the sky when we stopped, and I was worn out from the whole experience. Worn out -- but strangely fulfilled. Misao had fallen asleep with a small smile on her face. *I should have expected that* I kidded myself, pulling her shirt back down. I told Okina and the others that maybe it would be best if we let her rest alone for just a while. They agreed, and we stole back into the Aoiya for a quick lunch. END ACT THREE 1/30/00 Modified: 1/31/00 NOTES: For those of you who don't know, Reiki is a spiritual healing art that can be performed by just about anyone who's trained in the art. It's an art of Japanese origin, known to be founded by Dr. Mikao Usui. It mainly comprises of the laying on off hands on the back and tracing special symbols on the air above the back. The whole principle of it is to draw the patient's energy into you, cleanse it (or free it of whatever's ailing it) and release it back into the person. It's supposed to be effective for both physical and emotional wounds, though proper medication must still be taken for full recovery. More information may be obtained by checking out this website: Gomen if Aoshi was too OOC! I imagine there's a big softy underneath that cold facade, and there are lots of other good fics out there that prove my point. As for Misao, well -- let's just say she was smitten by a classic case of post traumatic stress disorder. ^^;; __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Talk to your friends online with Yahoo! Messenger. http://im.yahoo.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------ WANT FREE MAGAZINES? Sample over 500 magazines in 30 categories-- all for FREE at FreeShop.com, your source for thousands of free and trial offers! http://click.egroups.com/1/1610/4/_/_/_/951212000/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------