From: "Harumi Kurumi" It's Christmas and I'm restless! I just came up with a stupid idea and I had write it down in one sitting. "How did Aoshi get that coat?" I apologize for the OCC thing, as well as for the historical inaccuracies. But just have fun with it. Disclamers: Just borrowing the characters, don't sue me! Ja Haru ***************** Aoshi, The Fashion Victim by Harumi ***************** New Year’s Eve and the time for the “great cleaning” had come once again. Everybody in the Aoiya was busy getting rid of the musty remains of the passed seasons, everybody including Aoshi. Okashira or not, tradition was to be respected regardless of rank; the place was to become spotless. He had started by the widows and was now proceeding for the closet of his room. Spider webs had lodged in between the cracks of walls and hidden corners, even he was surprised by their amount. Aoshi was a man of neatness, but somehow he had neglected to keep his own quarters in order. No one dared enter his room, so it had remained his responsibility to take care of himself. In the midst of meditation and reading, his chambers had become nothing more than a place to sleep. Perhaps now the time to change had come. Aoshi looked inside the dark closet and was a bit appalled, the dust had settled on everything in its interior like a second skin. Many boxes were stacked one on top of the other; each containing little bits of his past that he had refused to throw away. Among all of them, one in particular caught his attention. Aoshi let go of the cleaning cloth he had for a second, and reached for the package. As he touched it, the moisture on his hands absorbed the dust on its surface giving him an annoying sensation of filthy dryness. As soon as he put the box on the floor, he swept it with the dampen cloth, not forgetting his own hands as well. He carefully opened the carton; having some difficulty as the top sucked the air inside. After a couple of shakes, the bottom settled naked on the tatami, releasing another cough of dust. Waiving his hand back and forth a couple of times to dissipate the obnoxious particles, he made an effort to gaze into the mysterious content. Suddenly, his eyes turned to a different shade, as a hint of nostalgia hit him in serene waves. The causer of such tide was a tattered garment that he had kept in secret. Aoshi brought his hands down to remove the memento from its encasement, zealous not to make any more damage than it had already suffered. The object of such devotion was made of white dyed leather, a very soft one at that; best quality. Despite the great gash across the chest section, a bright yellow lapel was still very visible. Aoshi smirked in spite of himself; the coat carried many memories that he could just not suppress. He had loved it from the first time he’d seen it, as if it had been made for him. He was far from being materialist, but he firmly believed their encounter was fate’s own doing. How had it been again? Aoshi tried to recollect the circumstances of the chance meeting… the events that led to the acquisition of one of his favorite things… ************************************* “Well, let us see it!” said a big man in Western clothes, as he sat back on his big leather chair. He slowly caressed his mustache, as he observed the two men that stood in front of him. His face was plump and red; arrogance seemed to be oozing from every pore of his body. “Certainly, Mr. Yamagutchi.” A blond American answered the latter with a quick bow. This man was tall and skinny; his legs were so thin they threatened to come apart with the slightest wind. His eyes caved into his face as if begging for rest, its surroundings a shade of black. He clapped his hands gracefully signaling for his other companion to act. This time, a brown-haired youth brought a package wrapped in white tissue. Mr. Yamagutchi followed him intently in anticipation. “Mr. Yamagutchi,” spoke the leader, “may I present to you the next sensation in Japanese fashion!” In an instant the tissue tore, and spread across the vicinities of the little clothing store where the three men stood. A big garment unrolled itself from the hands of the young carrier, and showed its resplendence. A bright white leather trench coat with an equally ornate yellow lapel. The shop owner’s eyes grew in size, as he was rendered speechless. The American was satisfied by the demonstration of awe. This, after all, was his so awaited masterpiece. “Well, Mr. Yamagutchi? Is it or is it not the most fantastic thing you have ever witnessed?” “(…)” “Mr. Yamagutchi?” “… Are you people on some kind of drug?” “No… sir…” “Then you are fired!!! What the hell were you thinking?! No, wait what the hell was *I* thinking when I hired you American lunatics?!* “Bu-but!” “Out!!! Out, I say!!!” With that reply the robust man shoved the two designers out the door, throwing the rejected coat on top of them. The night was cold, and the flabbergasted pair was left sprawled on their behinds in the middle of a street in Kyoto. “Mr. Strauss, sir?” asked the assistant as he recovered more quickly, “I told you we had better gone with the blue lapel…” “Peter…” gazed the boss with piercing eyes, “shut up.” The youngster gulped, and quieted himself. They both rose to their feet, and silently fetched for the remains of their possessions. “Lets go home,” said Strauss, “we’ve had enough for one day.” ************************************* The duo had already walked five blocks, and the two were panting desperately. Strauss had spent the remains or his money in the confection of his latest garment. He had hoped he’d be generously paid for his efforts tonight, but his expectations had betrayed him. Poor dreamer, his pursuit in fashion had ruined him in his homeland as well, but he had heard that a little country in Asia was eager for new ideas. He had risked everything at a final attempt to make a name for himself, and was failing miserably. At least he was lucky Peter had not deserted him; the boy had followed him everywhere no matter what conditions. Strauss suddenly felt a pang of guilt for having snapped at the kid earlier, he had been nothing but a kind devotee all through the years. “Peter?” “Sir?” “You are a good kid. Your mom would have been proud of you.” Peter’s cheeks glowed in rosy innocence along with a hearty smile with the words of abetment. “Thank you sir!” The two laughed some more, talking about their homeland in great enthusiasm. They were so absorbed in their reverie that neither noticed the danger encroaching. ************************************* Aoshi had had a fairly pleasurable day. The day had been so nice, he had decided to walk around town alone. He had quite forgotten himself when he realized the night had already come. In any case it was time to go home, the air was getting a bit chilly anyhow. He quickened his pace. Not long after a couple of steps however, he observed a group of people assembling in his path. There were some shouts coming from that direction, and from the corner of his eyes he saw something glitter. *Weapons…* They were no doubt bandits that had chosen their next victims. *Great…* ************************************* “What do you want!” yelled Strauss as the four men approached. One look into their faces told him they were up to no good. “Just give us the money, and we’ll let you go.” “We don’t have any.” answered Peter with a hint of apprehension. “You are foreigners! They all have money!” the leader of the band shouted angrily, “Toya, search them!” An ugly teenager stepped forward and obeyed his orders. Strauss groaned with displeasure as the filthy hands touched his side in the search. “Nothing boss.” Toya said shaking his head, “Just this thing.” He showed the leader the trench coat that the pair carried with a disgusted expression that did not escape Strauss. “What the hell is that thing?! Get that ugly coat out of my face!” That was it. The final offence Strauss would take silently; his blood was boiling in rage! “UGLY?! You savages have absolutely no taste!!! How can you regard my masterpiece as such you… you… mongrels!!!” the American breathed heavily as he let all his anger blurt our of his mouth. There was an interminable silence as the line of battle was drawn. The boss of the criminals narrowed his eyes looking for words to respond. Quickly he turned to the member in front of him, and whispered. /Hey, Toya! What the hell did he just call us?/ The youth shrugged in ignorance. Seeing this he glared back at his victims in annoyance. “I don’t know what you just said, but I don’t like it!” he drew his dagger out, “Kill them all!!!” All his companions screamed and advanced forward in unison. The two creatures stepped back in fear, Strauss regretting some of his impulsiveness at that very second. There was chaos as the two attempted to run, only to be caught by the bandits, yanked by their collars. Strauss fought back, but two more men held him by the arms and the furious boss raised his blade against him, and brought it down. As the weapon was to make contact… “What’s going on here?” A calm voice inquired from a close distance. “Who’s out there!!!” screamed the boss. Aoshi stepped out of the shadows in a graceful stride, and stared intensely at him. All of them widened their eyes as realization dawned on them. “I-It’s that Okashira!!!” one of the subordinates screamed. “Run!!!” One after another they scrambled their way out of Aoshi’s way in complete state of panic, leaving their astounded leader alone. “Wait! You cowards!!!” he yelled in a near plea. He greeted his teeth as his companions disappeared into the night. He had no other choice. “This isn’t over! You hear me?!” and pointing a finger at his enemies, he too fled into the darkness. ************************************* Strauss was dumbfounded, he could not believe those people would retreat so desperately. Whoever was their savior was undoubtedly very powerful. With the nuisance out of the way, Aoshi proceeded on his path without a single word from his part. The American quickly recovered his senses and trotted after the mysterious man. “Wait!” Aoshi turned around. “Thanks for saving us! We owe you our lives.” Strauss extended his hand to him, and waited for a response. The Okashira looked down at the strange gesture, and up at the foreigner again. Saying nothing, he turned once again to leave. Strauss was taken aback, but did not give up. “Hold on! We must repay you! We are very poor unfortunately… if there is anything we can do…” Aoshi was starting to lose his patience with the man, he just wanted to get home as fast as he could; it was getting cold. “That’s not necessary.” “But…” At that time, Peter had found his way to his master, and brought with him the coat that had caused all the trouble. Aoshi could not deter his eyes from wandering in the direction of the garment’s bright colors; he could almost feel them talking to him. Strauss noticed his interest in his creation and smiled. “I see you like my piece. Would you like to try it on?” Aoshi hesitated for a second, but finally accepted the offer. The two American dressed him, as he clumsily passed his arms through the heavy clothing. “Oh, it fits you perfectly!” It *did* fit him, amusingly. The trench coat felt instantly like a part of him. “Well sir, as our gratitude to you, my masterpiece is yours.” Aoshi looked at the man quizzically. “No need to thank me, sir! Though you *will* be the envy of Kyoto…* ************************************* The gift exchanged, Aoshi walked along his way wearing his new acquisition. The duo remained behind now truly empty-handed, but Strauss was the happiest of men. He would finally have his piece belong to someone truly worthy of his genius. Peter however, wasn’t so gleeful. “Mr. Strauss… are you sure about this…? The boss gazed questioningly at his assistant, and Peter saw the extent of oblivion in his master’s intentions. “(…) Never mind. ************************************* At the Aoiya Beshimi, Hanya, Hyottoko, and Shikijou sat around a table drinking sake. “So,”said Beshimi, “Where is the Okashira?” “Dunno… I think he went to walk around.” Answered Shikijou, “He should be back soon…” As he finished that sentence the entranced door slid to welcome Aoshi. The four of them turned immediately to greet him. “Okaerinasaimase Okashi-- *?!?*” They all stared at Aoshi as he came in enveloped in white and yellow. “What—“ *Oof!* Beshimi stopped in mid sentence as Hanya stuck an elbow by his side. “Aaa.” Aoshi said and left them. Making sure their Okashira was out of hearing range they came together in a cocoon. “What *was* that?!” started Beshimi. “Maybe he is drunk.” suggested Shikijou. “Okashira doesn’t drink.” observed Hanya. “But he looks like a fool!!!” blurted out Hyottoko, the alcohol taking effect on his discretion. The three stared at the audacity of their companion. “What?” Hyottoko said defensively. Suddenly there was a noise from behind the back door. The four of them looked in its direction with cold feeling in their stomach. Little Misao stood shyly by the screen door twirling her braid. She giggled as a sweat drop formed on their foreheads. She gave a big smile, and quickly turned around in delight. “AOSHI-SAMA!!!” she yelled out running. “Oh, no, Misao-chan!” Beshimi exclaimed realizing she had heard them. All of his friends were just as frantic, and ran after her with all their might. “Wait! Misao-chan!” they called out one by one. ************************************* “AOSHI-SAMA!” Misao yelled giggling as she pushed the half opened door of Aoshi’s room and pounced on his neck. She dangled around him until he picked her up; Misao smirked with happiness. “Misao…” he murmured. “Okaerinasai, Aoshi-sama!!!” “Tadaima, Misao.” She giggled helplessly once again. Smiling, she took hold of the yellow colar that adorned his famous outfit. “Aoshi-sama! Is this your new coat?! Everybody is talking about it!” “Oh?” Aoshi raised an eyebrow. At that moment the four pursuers reached his room as well, panting. Aoshi looked at them with curiosity. *This should be interesting.* “So, tell me Misao, what did they say about my new coat?* *Too late!!!* they all realized in fear. The only one without any visible sweat was Hanya who wore a mask. “Well, Misao?” The little girl laughed and smiled. “They said… AOSHI-SAMA LOOK LIKE COOL!!!” Aoshi looked a bit surprised; he hadn’t expected that much enthusiasm. But the surprise element belonged more to his subordinates that had expected no less than doom. They all let out their breaths, glad that Misao’s speech was not yet perfect. “Ahaha,” said Beshimi deliberately, “time for bed Misao-chan!” “But I’m not sleepy!” “Oh, you will be!” he continued picking her up from Aoshi’s arms. She reluctantly obliged. “But I want a coat that look like cool too!” Misao said whiningly. Aoshi reflected on her words for a while. “Well, it *is* going to be a cold winter…” he murmured, “perhaps I should find the man and get us all some coats…” “That will be great Okashira.” started Hanya “That coat looks perfect to move around, *right* everyone?” They all nodded mechanically, Misao laughed with pleasure. “New coat! New coat!” Without letting her utter another word they all left as fast as they could, dragging the girl with them. ************************************* Aoshi brought a hand to his mouth, examining his now completely tattered trench coat, abused by battle and time. He recalled he tried to locate that Strauss person the next day… his fist name was L something. To his surprise he had left to America three hours before he had reached him. Aoshi wondered how he had managed to buy two boat tickets with no money… *Oh well…* He put the coat back into the box, and closed the lid. He learned in later years that the foreigner had become famous selling some sort of pants… go figure. Regrettably, there was too much damage now to try to recover the garment *Damn Battosai…* Aoshi had been able to sew back the pieces after the first battle, but the last one had just finished it. Aoshi stored the carton back into its original place, and sighed. Maybe if he were lucky, Omasu would agree to make another one for him… *Orange is popular now…* he thought dreamily. For the first time, his four companions were glad they were safe from their master’s strange fashion tastes. Owari Author's note: I'm referring to the Oosouji when I say "great cleaning". Japanese people clean their entire house on New Year's Eve to rid themselves of old bad habits. Yeah... it's kinda potless, it didn't turn out as funny as I expected. Poor Strauss! Sniff... even I felt sorry for him. PS: you do know who I'm talking about when I say Strauss... right? No, I don't think he was ever in Japan, but that's what I'm talking about when I say historical inaccuracy. ^_^' --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- GRAB THE GATOR! FREE SOFTWARE DOES ALL THE TYPING FOR YOU! Tired of filling out forms and remembering passwords? Gator fills in forms and passwords with just one click! Comes with $50 in free coupons! 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