From: Chibi-Chiriko One word: BEWARE. Somewhere in the middle of this fic, Aoshi does something you'd *never* expect him to do (or at least he *tries* to do it! ^_^;;) I don't remember it having happened in any of the A/M fics I've read before so... be warned. Not for the faint-hearted! (And you all thought he'd just be a gentle weakling in this fic... ^-^) God bless you! +*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+ 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 FIVE: And Men Decay... I thought I lived with you beneath a sun Whose golden rays ne'er left the deep blue sky, But shone and shone where rolling meadows lie, With playful smile spring's blossoms wooed in fun, And danced in leafy vales where waters run And where the sweet brook's murmurs never die, ... I thought that time went sweet and soft and glow, And left no marks save those of gentleness That bound thee to my life with strong caress; And I saw naught but all they soul's deep truth, No fading bloom, nor form the years bent low, But ever still the beauty of thy youth. -from "The Dream" by Max Ehrmann, taken from The Desiderata of Hope After Misao fainted into my arms that night, nothing was ever the same again. In blind concern, I'd rushed her to the doctor that very night, rapping insistently at the door when she hadn't come at my first knock. And then she answered the door, looking groggy and irritated by my racket, and with words tumbling out of my mouth one after the other, I heatedly explained what happened, and I begged her to help. From the look on her face, I could tell she was shocked, seeing me act as I had never done before. Then she'd glanced at Misao, who stirred ever so slightly in my arms, and bade me to come in. As I lay Misao on the bed, her eyes fluttered open, and for one achingly bittersweet moment, they locked unto mine, and she whispered, "I love you" before losing consciousness again. It had come to be the last time she would ever say that to me. The doctor's eyebrows shot up. "Sou ka... Shinomori-san, you've been doing everything to help her recover, haven't you?" she murmured, checking Misao's pulse. I nodded. My face must've been reflecting the anguish within me as I stared at Misao. Nearby, I dimly heard the hissing cackle of the fire in the hearth. She slowly, gently examined Misao's injured leg with her hand, a slight frown on her face. I saw a flicker of pain across Misao's pale face, and I clenched my jaw. She suddenly asked: "Shinomori-san, have you done anything to aid her recovery aside from letting her have the rest and medication I recommended?" Her sharp eyes burned into mine, probing me for an answer. I looked away quickly. I didn't like the direction this was going. "What does it matter?" I asked quietly. The doctor sighed impatiently. "I think whatever prompted this reaction, this *attack*, or whatever you'd like to call it, must be psychological. I administered the best of care for her physical injuries, any doctor will tell you that. However, she seems to be suffering from a heavy case of post-traumatic stress disorder. This is the first time she's ever been shot, right?" I nodded. "And she volunteered to be shot, if I recall correctly," she continued. "To protect *you.*" Biting my lip, I nodded slowly. My eyes were suddenly misty. "It must have been a very frightening experience for her," she said softly. "I remember the look on her face when I was about to take the bullet out." *Why does she torment me?* I silently screamed. Did she have to stir up all those aching, painful memories of Misao's tender face, contorted in fear and agony? I nodded. "Tell me the truth," she pleaded, her face suddenly in front of me. "Tell me so I can *help* you. Tell me so I can help *her.*" I exhaled loudly. Only then did I discover that I was trembling, and I settled into the chair next to the bed, trying to collect myself. "I had... one Reiki session with her," I whispered, staring at my pale, trembling hands. "I just wanted to help her -- I didn't think... could this be the aftereffect..." "Are you well-trained in Reiki?" she inquired. "Yes," I replied monotonously. "It was part of my Oniwabanshuu training -- I hadn't practiced it for about thirteen years, yet I know the mechanics by heart, I *swear* I did everything like I was supposed to!" My voice rose. "Thirteen years is a long time, Shinomori-san," she sighed. I was aghast. Then... did that mean that all this... was *my* doing? I'd been trying to help her, and she had believed it, and in reality, I'd been causing her pain. Needless to say, I was stunned. "What should I do?" I heard myself ask. "There must be *some* way... when will she get better?" The doctor bit her lip. "I-I don't know," she stammered. "My father knew Reiki, but I never learned it. There's no way of telling the extent of the psychological damage. Her subconscious is interfering with her physical injury, making it worse. I can't make any more assumptions than what I already know." "So what should I do?" I asked again. It came out more like a plea than a question. "This is a dark time for Misao. My guess is, she's reliving the moments of pain during and after the incident at the Shirobeko. She must be feeling scared, and physically hurt, though she's actually almost in top condition. She's alone through all this, the trauma, and she'll be living in a world and time that's not real, at least, not for now. It's like she's walking in a pitch black tunnel, where she sees nothing but the darkness around her. She feels physical pain, though nothing's touching her. She's all alone, and she has to find her way to the light somehow -- but in her state, she can't do that all by herself. She needs someone to draw her out, to bring her back to reality. She'll need *you*, most of all, your encouragement, your very presence." "Why me?" I whispered, closing my eyes. "I've done enough inflicting this on her. I can't help her!" "You have to *try!*" she exclaimed stubbornly. "She wants to live, she wants to get well again, but this is one of the few times when simply 'willing', simply *wanting* is not enough. She's emotionally, psychologically trapped, and you, Shinomori-san, are the only one who can free her from her bonds. You love her, don't you?" "Of course," I said hoarsely. I couldn't see very well; my eyes were clouded with tears. "I love her, but I can't risk hurting her. I can't risk *losing* her!" I had said that I couldn't risk hurting her. I think what I meant was that I couldn't risk hurting *myself.* I'd been hurt enough before, I was hurting even now, and I didn't want to hurt forever. "How did you get this far without ever worrying about risking her rejection?" she asked quietly. "Did that ever occur to you?" My mouth fell open. In a daze, I realized that I had always -- I'd just always assumed she would be there for me forever, that she'd accept me no matter what, not even when I rejected her love. I'd always expected her to accept when I offered her love -- and all those times she could have said no, but didn't. It had never crossed my mind that she could ever tell me no. Because she never had. It was deathly cold in the room all of a sudden. I walked over to Misao, and gently lifted her off the bed. I dropped a light kiss on her forehead, before turning to the doctor. "I'll try to help her, Doctor," I found myself saying. "Thank you." "I'll be praying for you two," I heard her murmur as I walked out the door. "Especially for you, Shinomori-san..." That was when things at the Aoiya had started to change. I suppose it's true, that nothing good lasts forever. Misao took it well at first. She'd always been a fighter by nature, and though the fear always lingered in her eyes, she forced a brave smile onto her lips, clinging on to me for support as I led her through her everyday life. It was hard, yes, but it was even harder for me to not give up. Seeing her suffer like that was *making* me suffer, and once, as I was feeling her pain, I suddenly realized that what I had passed onto her during that session was *her* renewed energy (which had accounted for the few, happy days of love after the session), and a part of my own subdued spirit, which was now eating her up from inside. I sank into deeper depression, realizing that the pain, the loneliness I'd buried deep down had resurfaced when I was doing Reiki on her, and they'd unconsciously flowed into Misao. And now, it was *she* who was paying for all I'd done. She had been holding her ground well for the first few days, yet some time, she was bound to snap, and she did -- all too soon for me. There was a time when she *couldn't* fight back anymore, when all she could do was ride with the flow and let it kill her slowly... Kill her... Just the sight of her was now pure agony for me. She was more beautiful in her suffering than she had ever been, and so anguished, so tortured. There were times when she screamed my name, sobbing hysterically as she rushed into my arms, sometimes even reciting the names of the four comrades who had died because of me. There were times when she wouldn't eat, wouldn't drink; she was just languishing in her bedroom without a word, letting no one -- not even me -- inside. It was painful, yes, painfully bitter for me; seeing her now was like seeing myself for what I really was. She had become a mirror of my inner torment. This had a profound effect on the other Oniwabanshuu. Okina had been drinking more than ever, disappearing more often during the night, coming back at daybreak, drunk. Okon and Omasu -- I knew it was hard on them, too, and they were venting it off working at the Shirobeko, helping out. They would come home early at night, and would stay with Misao while I rested, though I never really was at rest. Kuro and Shiro had become overprotective of Misao; they never left the Aoiya at all, and at the slightest whiff of danger, they were instantly on guard. It was around that time that I started to draw away from reality, from the hurt... The crowning insult, the salt that seared an open wound that never healed, happened one fateful, stormy night. Misao had been hobbling down the stairs, and I'd been staring glumly at the storm outside when I heard her footsteps. I turned around, and just as lightning zigzagged across the sky, just as a frighteningly loud thunderclap boomed overhead, an anguished cry escaped Misao's lips, and I was horrified at the sight of the blood that had just suddenly burst out of her skin. Dark red rivers ran down her face, her arms, her legs, and she sank to her knees, sobbing and wailing loudly, calling out my name. I was stunned, petrified. In desperation for an escape from the hurt, the bitterness raw inside me, I darted out into the raining night, forcing myself to ignore the piteous screams, the imploring call for me to help her. That was when I knew she would never be healed. That was when I knew *I* would never be saved. People do desperate things in the face of hopelessness. -- Have we outgrown our Peter Pans and wings? We've simply grown too old for tales of knights and kings 'Cause life's a constant change... and nothing stays the same... -from "Constant Change" sung by Jose Mari Chan The sky was starting to lighten as I walked back into the Aoiya. The air was cool and moist, and my heart was as heavy as stone. Only one thing could be done to save both myself and Misao the suffering, and I was loath to do it. Hardening my resolve, I stepped inside. In my hand was my kodachi. Taking a deep breath, I walked into Misao's room, trying to make as little noise as possible. I wanted this over with as soon as possible. As always, the mere sight of her took my breath away. My tortured angel lay sprawled on her bed, her raven waves spread around her like fire scattered in the fields. They weren't in their usual braid; they lay freely around her frail body. Her eyes were closed lightly; drops of moisture clung to her thick, graceful lashes. My heart ached as I saw the scars etched on her perfection, scars I knew would reopen and bleed again. As I watched her in her troubled slumber, my muscles tightening with every whimper of pain that escaped her lips, one thought kept running through my mind. *Why couldn't this have happened to me?* Why indeed... My eyes narrowing, I unsheathed the kodachi. Its naked blade glimmered eerily in the pale light of dawn as I held it up before my eyes. Soon enough, these thoughts wouldn't matter any longer. *Sumaranai, my angel.* A small, humorless smile -- the smile of a man who has lost everything worth living and dying for -- tugged at my lips as I raised the blade. My eyes hardened as I brought the blade down on the lithe figure on the bed... ... the memory of anguished cries in the night... ... the rattling of a Gatling gun, pervading my consciousness... ... the tinkling melody of a heart-shaped locket... ... a distant memory of an old man handing a much younger Shinomori Aoshi an infant swaddled in a pink blanket... ... stolen kisses, feverish passion, shared embraces... ... a promise of endless love... All these thoughts, these memories, these visions, illusions, were rushing through my head, driving me ravenous, mad! WEAKNESS. MERCILESSNESS. ANGUISH. DESPAIR. FEAR. Blue tongues of fire bore into mine, and my kodachi cluttered to the ground. Misao let out a soft cry, and sat up on her bed. "Aoshi- sama!" she gasped, her eyes on the fallen kodachi. "You were -- why --" Her eyes filled with tears. Still panting at the close encounter, I said nothing. I did not look at her, but I could feel her eyes on me. "You were going to *kill* me!" she moaned, clutching her blanket. She tore at her hair, like a child having a tantrum. She began to sob, then threw herself at me, pounding on my chest. "Why, Aoshi-sama? WHY!" "Calm down, Misao," I muttered, not making a move to comfort her. My eyes strayed to the rising sun, casting a golden glow into the room. "Why?" she screamed, and there was a dull, hollow ache at the pit of my stomach. She was hysterical. And I wasn't doing anything to make it better. *You wouldn't understand.* "TELL ME WHY!" she demanded, her untrimmed nails swiping at my face. I let out an enraged yell as I grabbed her wrists and pulled them away from my face. Blood trickled down my cheeks. She was mad. Driven insane by anger, by frustration, the pain that was burrowing deeper within. And I, powerless to stop the continual tide of hatred, desperation and unfathomable grief that was once mine. "Misao," I muttered grimly, my eyes finding their way to hers. "Don't you wish for this ordeal of yours to end? Death is the only way to end this. Don't you want me to kill you, to relieve us both of this wretchedness?" Her eyes widened, and for a long, bitter moment, they searched mine. I felt nothing then -- or at least, I *thought* I felt nothing. I know now that the despair had me in its fiercest hold, and that nothing could ever break me from it. She found nothing in my eyes, and she screamed at me, springing away from me, cursing, "WHO ARE YOU? You're not the Aoshi-sama I know! You're not the Aoshi-sama I love! You're a complete stranger; the Aoshi-sama I know would *never* leave me like this. NEVER!" Her cry bounced off the walls, ringing ominously in my ears. "Misao, this *is* me," I said softly, not making a move, though all I wanted to do was to grab her in my arms and cry, and never let go. "I am still your Aoshi-sama. And I would *never* leave you --" "Liar!" she snarled. "You're different. You've changed. You've left me already -- when I needed you most, when I needed the Aoshi-sama I loved, that's when you abandoned me! YOU KILLED HIM, and now all I'm left with is a stranger, a soulless beast who wants to kill me!" She was trembling with hysteria. My eyes narrowed. In that instant, I knew there was nothing more she could give me, that there was nothing more *I* could give her. I picked up the kodachi from the floor, and without looking at her, I stalked out of the room. It was only an hour later that I realized I'd been walking through a dense forest, and that morning had long begun. I looked up, and saw the sunlight streaming through the leaves, sending a shimmering sparkle upon the dew-kissed plants and grass. I heard the merry chirping of birds, the rustling of the grass beneath my feet as I walked on. *How peaceful* I found myself thinking. *Peaceful unlike my turbulent heart. Peaceful like I have never been.* Something tugged at my heart, and I sank to my knees, wrapping my arms tightly around myself. It was cold, too cold all of a sudden, so cold that not even the sun's warmth could penetrate it. I felt the tears coming, coming like a steady tide, and for the first time in a long, long time, I was really crying, crying without trying to hold the tears back. As I sat there, alone with only my sobs for company, I felt something go, something float out of my soul and disappear into the sunlit sky from which I could never retrieve it. Hope. END ACT FIVE 2/6/00 Modified: 2/9/00 Whew! Finally finished it! I had some sort of writer's block somewhere in the middle of this chapter, and I had to take some time off from working on it for fear that I might ruin the whole fic. I get the feeling I'm being majorly, majorly inconsistent, but I'd rather not fix things first -- I'd rather finish the whole fic first, then run it through with corrections, revisions, etc. You might be wondering why I seem to love torturing Aoshi too much. Don't get me wrong; I don't hate him, I love him! I really care about him, and I think that among all the RK characters, *he* most deserves peace and happiness, the peace and happiness that has eluded him for so long. HOWEVER... When I first wrote this fic, I was in a deep state of depression. I guess I kinda used this story to vent the depression, the frustration and feelings of self- worthlessness out. And I kinda used Aoshi as an emotional outlet, an instrument through which I could let out my grief. I'm hoping to learn something, too, while writing this. And just so you're all warned in advance, this fic is NOT going to have a happy ending. The decision Aoshi makes is one that would leave him emotionally alone forever. Why, you ask? Why indeed. The point is, we don't know if life really does end happily after all. Life's no fairy tale, that much I can say, and after the depression, the desperation I've been through, I can't confidently proclaim that life is a box of chocolates. I haven't lived long enough, I know, but I've seen the many things the world can do. I know what hating myself is like. I wanted to weave all those elements into one story that would show the dark side of life -- not to depress you guys, mind you! ^^;; BTW, the title of this chapter, "And Men Decay", came from the title of the first chapter of a book entitled "Brother, My Brother" by Bienvenido Santos -- a local author, who's a really excellent author, if I have anything to say about it. The book was a masterpiece, too, a perfect portrayal of the dark recesses of the Filipino heart. I hope that song was okay where I inserted it. I couldn't think of anything else to put in -- I was saving the best song for the last act! On to Act Six! ^-^ __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Talk to your friends online with Yahoo! Messenger. http://im.yahoo.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Get what you deserve with NextCard Visa! Rates as low as 2.9% Intro or 9.9% Fixed APR, online balance transfers, Rewards Points, no hidden fees, and much more! Get NextCard today and get the credit you deserve! Apply now! Get your NextCard Visa at: http://click.egroups.com/1/913/4/_/455156/_/951394665/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------