Whispered Goodbyes [A]
By Kaoru-Sensei
(Author's Note* There are spoilers here, for episodes 8-12, as well as mild spoilers for the end of the Kyoto Hen saga, episodes in the late 50's to early 60's. these are characters Watsuki created, I'm just borrowing them ^_^)
Misao looked out of the corner of her eye at Aoshi, her stomach in uneasy knots at the lump in her throat mirrored by the lump in her heart.
The seasons had cycled completely since his return to the Aoiya, and in all that time there was question that burned at Misao's heart. She was too afraid to ask, not wanting to cause him either discomfort or remind him. Nor had the timing ever seemed right. But she had to know, and realized it would always be an uncomfortable question, but he had changed a lot in the last few months. Finding a peace she had never seen in him before.
Misao hurriedly glanced away from Aoshi as he turned around.
Hmm… she's been acting strange all day, he mused as he savored his tea.
She was usually one who woke early, and had as much energy as the sun must have… she seemed to beam and bounce around the place, but today she had slowly and quietly moved around. Something was definitely wrong.
"Misao, are you feeling alright?"
She jumped, startled out of her own thoughts and rushed a hasty reply. "Hai, Aoshi-sama, I'm fine."
Aoshi merely arched an eyebrow at her but let the matter slide as she joined him for afternoon tea.
She poured herself a glass of tea mechanically, the action was not lost on Aoshi, nor were her white-knuckled hands.
She's scared?
She sat down somberly and sipped at her tea unlike her usual downing it in several gulps.
Something is most definitely wrong…..
She kicked herself to ask him but just sat there fighting herself until she finally managed to say his name.
"Aoshi-sama…."
"Hai, Misao-chan?"
"Um…," she spoke as she lost her nerve, "who made the tea so I can thank them?"
"Believe it or not it was Okina."
"Oh," she replied as the room fell to an uneasy silence.
"Ao-"
"-sao"
The two of them looked at each other uneasily, Misao recovered faster.
"You first."
Aoshi looked at her and sighed.
"Misao, whatever it is that's bothering you, say it."
She sighed and looked down at her hands as Aoshi slowly went through one of the meditation techniques of the Oniwabanshuu as he waited for her to reply.
"Aoshi-sama….. I…. there has been something I've been meaning to ask you for a while…"
She feel silent as she tried to bring herself to ask the rest of it, which finally came out in a blurred burst of words.
"Whydidyounottelluswhathadhappenedtothem?"
Aoshi blinked in confusion a moment trying to sort out the mumbled words and paled ever so slightly when he deciphered them. His head bowed and his bangs hid his eyes from view.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," Misao hurriedly began to run from the room.
"Misao wait."
She paused her hand on the door her back to him.
"Don't apologize, you have the right to know. Please sit down?"
She nodded her head, as she turned around and reclaimed her seat on the floor, her bangs shading her eyes from view as she stared and twiddled at her thumbs.
"It was wrong of me not to tell you, but when I lost them, I… I wasn't really thinking straight. I felt alone, and part of me didn't want to send you sad news, I… we left in the middle of the night, you never got to say goodbye, and I didn't want you hating me… at least the part of me that was still thinking, another part of me…. Thought they were all I ever had."
"Aoshi," she reached out and gently laid a hand on his arm. "I don't blame you, I never did. It's just… I miss them."
Her voice choked over with emotion as soft tears slide from her eyes. Aoshi looked first at her hand on his arm then up at her face, her sad face.
"Your face wasn't meant for tears," he spoke quietly as he reached up and flicked the tears away with a constricting pain in his heart.
"I am so sorry Misao," he gently brushed the bangs from her eyes and laid a comforting hand on the top of her head before he quietly got up and began to leave.
"Aoshi," she spoke around her tears. "I need to say goodbye to them, would you please take me to their graves?"
Aoshi, filled with guilt, couldn't deny her this request even though he didn't wish to return to the site himself.
"Hai," he whispered so quietly as he left the room.
By the end of the week the two of them were on the road heading towards Tokyo. Misao had sent a message ahead saying they'd be in the area and drop in for a visit at Kamiya Dojo.
Their journey was quiet, Aoshi had returned to his usual quiet, moody, brooding, and Misao was unusually subdued.
The only conversation between them was the absolute minimum necessary, but neither one really noticed, they were too wrapped up in introspection to notice much of the environment they were in.
Aoshi's mind reeled, replaying over and over the fight with Kenshin and Kanryu's insane act of bringing the gatling gun down to bear on the Oniwabanshuu and whoever else that was in the area.
He saw them time and time again lay down their lives for his, a life he considered worthless. The look in their eyes as they looked at him, their bodies riddled with bullets, as they smiled at him, glad to see he was still alive as they died one by one.
The world had narrowed down to Hannya, Beshimi, Hyottoko, and Shikijo as he watched them die, selflessly sacrificing their lives for his. Of them all Shikijo had surprised him. He recalled their fights when they had been enemies to when he had spared his life and Shikijo then served Aoshi faithfully. But when he stood in the path of the bullets, that's when Aoshi could take it no longer, he snapped. He was too numb, too numb to feel, to truly understand what was going on around him. It wasn't until quite some time later he realized it was quiet. His friends' bodies lay before him, a living testament to their will. He got up, ignoring his own pain, and one by one drew them over his shoulders walked out of Kanryu's mansion into the woods, and laid them there, going back for the next, then the next, till all four had been removed.
He scraped and dug out their graves with the sheath of his sword. It was long slow work, and it wasn't until the eerie light of false dawn cracked through the sky that their bodies were laid to rest and cover in a blanket of earth. The anguish in him kept him going, he found four large stones to serve as markers and carried them wearily to the clearing in the woods, he lay each one down with a religious exactitude and as he settled the last one into place, he collapsed with sheer exhaustion and fell into restless dreams.
He knew not how long he had slept. He woke late in the evening, the last rays of the sun disappearing over the Horizon. He stayed awake that night hungry, famished and thirsty. He refused to leave their grave as he spent his wake with them. After the hellishly cold night, he stretched and got up a protesting knot of misery. He took one last look at their graves, and turned around, not looking back.
At first he had wandered aimlessly, then changed his steps to return to Kyoto, to the Aoiya, but he saw in his minds eye the disapproval on Okina's face, the tears in Misao's eyes, and lastly, the life his friends had wastefully saved.
I must be the strongest, to make their deaths not be in vain.
He altered his steps and walked away from the only home he ever knew.
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