True Gifts Lemony Fresh Extra | By : Rissa2878 Category: Rurouni Kenshin > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2468 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
True Gifts Lemony Fresh Extra
By Miss_Led
Light a candle
Lay flowers at the door
For those who were left behind
And the ones who’ve gone before
But here it comes now
Sure as silence follows rain
The taste of you upon my lips
The fingers in my brain
Ever gentle
As it kills me where I lay
Who am I to resist?
Who are you to fail?
Got to get you out of my mind
But I can’t escape from the feeling
As I try to leave the memory behind
Without you what’s left to believe in?
And I could be so sorry
For the way it had to go
But now I feel your presence
In a way I could not know
And I wonder
Do you ever feel the same
In whispering darkness
Do you ever hear my name?
Got to get you out of my mind
But I can’t escape from the feeling
As I try to leave the memory behind
Without you, what’s left to believe in?
How could you dare
To become so real
When you’re just a ghost in me
And I’ve got to get you out of my mind
But I can’t escape from the feeling
As I try to leave the memory behind
Without you, what’s left to believe in?
Here in the back of my mind
Deep in the back of my mind
“Out of My Mind” - Duran Duran
Medazzeland © 1997 Capitol Records, Inc.
It had been over two months since his birthday. In the days that followed she rarely saw him. He greeted her coldly in the halls and occasionally when he wandered by to find her practicing, he chastised her form and gave her a tip or two. Other then those brief, sterile meetings, she’d had no contact with him for the last two weeks. She was being eaten up inside with mixed feelings of anger and hurt. So intense were these emotions that she had cried herself to sleep every night for the last fourteen days. Misao didn’t think she could handle much more of Aoshi’s icy withdrawal. In desperation, she had even left to go help Himura Kenshin in an attempt to be rid of the emotional torture.
Her time with the Kenshin-gumi had been another learning experience; she was more self-assured now. But since she had returned, the dreams had come back, the hunger had reappeared and the cold chill of Aoshi had worsened. She hadn’t expected Aoshi to come all the way to Tokyo for her, even if Jiya had asked him. It was almost too much for her to handle as her questioning eyes had met his for the first time in weeks. She had rejected his presence then, not knowing how much she had hurt him.
She was afraid that he had only come back to escort her because Okina had requested it, not because he wanted to for himself. Afraid that when she went home, the distance between them would be more insurmountable than before. Those feelings were further compounded since Aoshi chose to say nothing. Megumi had verbally knocked some sense into her, for which she was eternally grateful. Because of the fox doctor, Misao had made up her mind to go home.
Their trip home had been strained and extremely reserved except for a short, revealing conversation in the woods and an enlightening stay at an inn. Content to know she was safe, Aoshi had walked forward silently with Misao next to him straining to keep the atmosphere light by pretending things were like old times back before that fateful night. But all Misao could feel was his cold removal, if anything, it only seemed as if the distance between them was greater, and so it had remained.
Across the Aoiya, Shinomori Aoshi picked up a rough sack, hefting it over his shoulder, and proceeded to exit the grounds. He walked to the shrine he favored most, as it was a good distance away from home. He could find sanctuary there; it offered peace for his tormented soul. Aoshi mounted the steps, the doors creaking as he pushed open the aged wood. Entering the shrine, he laid the sack on the floor reaching deep inside it to withdraw a few candles and matches. As he walked around the room he lit them one by one, filling the semi-dark space with a flickering luminescence. The shadows cast on the walls of the shrine danced erratically as if to greet him.
Aoshi was troubled today, as he had been for the last two months. The silence held no solace for the ache within. He took off his coat and laid it on the floor next to the sack. Reaching towards the floor, he sat and folded his long legs into a mediation position. He took a few deeps breaths to clear his mind. Within minutes he was in a state of trance, at one with his surroundings.
But there were shadows in his mind, as well as on the walls, and they threatened to pull him away from his commune. Unbidden, they paraded themselves before him…….
A young Misao, eyes bright and full of tears as she looked up at him. Her eyes screamed at him, “Traitor!” they yelled, “Traitor to leave me here alone!”
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She had found him in a field practicing his kempo. Her eyes had been bright with anger and her little face, fierce. Misao had demanded that he deny what Hanya had told her, “Aoshi-sama! You’re not going to leave me are you??? You would never go away without me! Ne, Aoshi-sama?!”
The tears shining in her big blue eyes had threatened to spill over and break his heart. He had stood rigid, wanting neither to confirm nor deny the fact. His eyes had bored into her tearful ones, hoping to find a spark of understanding. She had her answer, however.
Never before had he been both grateful and miserable of the bond that was between him and the little girl. She had, unlike anyone else of the Oniwan Banshuu, always been able to read him well and understand his emotions better than anyone else. Even at that age, Misao had know him almost better than he knew himself.
“Iie!!!!” Desperate sobs had broken loose from her young body as she shook her head violently, her braid cutting through the air, as they did, so too, for the barest of moments, had Aoshi’s shell. The sounds tore at Aoshi as he reached out to her and she had run, for the first time, away from him. The last thing he saw of her was the bob of a long braid disappearing into the distance.
He had turned away then, somehow deeply hurt by her rejection. That night he and several of the older members of the Oniwabanshu had packed the few belongings they had and left. Okina had been against it from the first, but he knew there was no way to stop Aoshi once his mind was set. Only Misao had made him pause. He had gone to say goodbye, but the girl was sleeping deeply. He didn’t want to wake her only to see the accusation in her eyes again; Aoshi knew he would get no understanding from her, he was her life after all and so too had she been his.
She had worshipped him as long as he could remember, his small shadow. He watched her grow and cared for her in every way. He had held her in his arms and soothed all her fears, chasing all her monsters away at night. He had cleaned all her wounds and taught her to be strong. Then he had left without another word.
For many days after they had left, he continued to think about her, her large blue eyes haunting him at night. He turned sometimes as they walked to find out why she was not talking only to realize his Misao was not there. Over time, he grew to no longer look for the laughing child at his side, and after a while the dull ache of not having her next to him began to dissipate.
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Kyoto and the evil within him. She had been so happy to see him, she had almost glowed with emotion. Even when Okina's battered form lay before him nearly dead from his Kodachi Nitou Ryuu, the twin blades stained in the old man’s blood, he could still see the flash of joy in her eyes. He, however, had dismissed her on the spot; she was not the child of his memories.
She had grown into a brat; he had detested her then. But also, deep inside, the man who left her was raging in hurt and anger. She was within arms reach, yet she was lost to him now. His consciousness had been completely consumed by the fires of violence. So tainted was his soul, that he had hurt her unforgivably. And in doing so, he had destroyed the last ray of light within himself. Aoshi was now tortured by a darkness of his own creation. His head hung as he remembered the weeks following his return to the Aoiya.
~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*
He had caused them so much hurt. ‘Why do they want me back? I’m not worthy of their forgiveness.’ He had felt Okina’s hand patting him on the back. Before him, Misao’s face was smiling brightly with tears of joy glistening on her cheeks, but she refused to meet his eyes. From where he stood, he could see her teeth pressing deeply into her bottom lip as it quivered. Her hands were clenched tightly, the knuckles white.
He knew then that she was waiting for him to reject her again. He felt a stabbing pain pulse through his chest, making him catch his breath. He had moved by her side then saying nothing and everything with one small action.
For a moment, it seemed as if everything was back as it was so long ago, but the debilitating realization of his sins reared it’s head, and he could feel naught but loathing for himself. Misao visibly relaxed as he hovered near her shoulder and looked up into his unwavering eyes. His gaze was expressionless as he continued to look at her, making an errant comment to the group in general, letting them know that their former Okashira was home.
He felt rather then heard the collective release of their held breaths. Later, as he wandered around the Aoiya, he regarded the damage and made calculations for it’s repair, taking charge under Okina’s watchful eye, in action if not in name, as if he had never left.
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It had taken more time to repair his relationship with Misao. Slowly though, they had become closer. She shadowed him again, and this time he tried his best to ignore her, feeling that he was no longer worthy of her attention. She loved him unconditionally; he could not bring himself to love at all, not with the guilt he harbored just below the surface.
He could not love himself enough to love her. Many times still he wished that Himura’s sword had finished him off, denied him the sweet torture of Misao’s company. Most recently, her “project” with Saitou.
He knew something had been going on, but like so often as of late, she had hidden it from him. He had been slightly hurt with the knowledge, but more pervasive had been the intense jealousy he had felt for the former Shinsen Gumi captain. It was a feeling that he was not accustomed to, one that he most certainly did not welcome.
It meant that Misao had a deeper effect on him than he had realized, and it was only getting stronger. The knowledge terrified him.
~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~* ~*
Aoshi had pushed his way through the pulsing mass of people rushing to leave Takahashi Ryu’s Ageya in an effort to get to Saitou. His intent to seriously damage the man for putting Misao in such a precarious position abruptly changed at the sight before him. Saitou’s arms held a limp Misao. The girl was unconscious and her cheeks were deeply flushed.
He had forgotten himself then as he rushed forward to collect this precious burden from Saitou’s arms. Misao had moaned as Aoshi’s cool hands ran down her body gently, checking for damage. His hands had found more then he bargained for. As well as her various kunai, he’d also come across some very intriguing curves. Aoshi was sure they were recently new.
She was growing right before his eyes and he had refused to see it. He stopped his exploration quite quickly. Standing up, he had taken out his frustration on Saitou by cuffing the man across the cheek. The officer seemed to be expecting some sort of retribution and was prepared for it, so Aoshi’s punch had held little release for his anger.
A few minutes later Saitou had dropped Misao’s obi over her sleeping form. It was then that Aoshi took into account the state of her undress. Appalled by the realization that her kimono lay partially open for all eyes to feast upon her soft flesh, which was just barely shrouded by a shimmering, sheer under-kimono, he had closed the outfit quickly.
Not bothering to ask Saitou what had happened to the girl, he had gathered her into his arms and left. He was happier knowing nothing about the goings on in the Ageya that night. Misao was safe that was all that counted.
He held her tightly to his chest as he walked, her burning face buried in the crook of his neck. She was a light as a feather, but the heat of her seared him to the core of his being. He had been so afraid that she was hurt, possibly worse. She would never know of his turmoil, he would not let her.
When they had finally come to the Aoiya, Aoshi entered silently not wanting the others to see Misao in such a state of abandon. He had ensconced them in her room, carefully laying her on the futon. He had stared at her then, watching the tiny smile she had worn fade from her lips as the cool air found her. Misao moaned and pulled at the loosely crossed collar of her kimono.
Fretfully, she yanked it open to the hem in her sleep, baring her soft curves, hidden only by the sheer under-kimono, to Aoshi’s eyes. He couldn’t move for the life of him, even though he knew he should leave. Misao began to shiver as the air permeated through the thin material of her under-kimono, tossing and murmuring quietly in her stupor.
Aoshi laid his body down next to hers, pulling her soft form close. He didn’t want to leave her just yet, the fear was still there inside, ‘Losing her... I can’t handle that again.’ He buried his head against her own, reaching a hand up to remove her loosened hairpins. Her hair fell free from its tight coil to twine about his long fingers. It felt like cool silk as it flowed over his hand. He combed his fingers down its length, nesting his face into its thickness as well, taking a deep breath of her fresh scent, which was slightly tinged with sake.
Aoshi shut his eyes tightly hoping to capture the moment. He knew it would only torture him later, but he couldn’t resist. She shifted against him, rolling over to curl into the breadth of his chest, her arm warping itself around his waist to hold him close. Aoshi’s eyes popped open in shock and he ceased to breathe.
She was so soft and fragile, her breasts were pushed tightly against the width of his chest and Aoshi felt the hardness of her nipples through his clothes. ‘I don’t deserve her.’ Drawing back, he encountered another surprise as he faced her soft lips, only inches from his own. Aoshi could feel her warm breath teasing his chest through the fabric of his shirt.
Once more, he shut his eyes tightly, but this time it was for restraint. If he opened them again he was sure he wouldn’t be able to control his actions. Misao’s hand shifted to run up the side of his abdomen to his chest. He shuddered against her, with his eyes closed the feeling had only been stronger. His body was taunt with an overwhelming need that began to sweep over his senses.
“Aoshi-sama….” The words were a mere sigh from the sleeping girl’s lips. He knew he had lost the battle within himself when he heard them. His arms gathered her close to his hard body, chaining her to him.
Aoshi dragged her up his length to look at her face. His eyes were dark with emotion; he shivered slightly as they wracked him. Misao’s sleepy-lidded eyes fluttered open softly to look at him in wonder, she opened her mouth to speak but his lips fused themselves to hers before she could utter a word.
‘Yumé….’ Misao’s brain was fuzzy. She knew that her dreams were never this forward or real feeling, but tonight had been different, the alcohol and Takahashi’s drugs had had their effect on her system. She kissed him back with all of her might knowing the dream might end any second.
Aoshi reveled in the feel of her lips locked so closely with his own, it was as if he were drinking from the spring of life itself, partaking of her bright soul. He knew it would end soon, but he held onto the sensation for as long as he could. Finally, he broke the kiss as Misao slipped back into a hazy trance. The hand she had unwittingly teased him with earlier continued its ascent to his neck, reaching around to play with his hair.
A strangled sound of alarm broke from Aoshi’s chest as Misao began to rub her body against his own. Aoshi was near the breaking point for the remainder of his control. If he didn’t leave soon, he wouldn’t be able to atone for his actions. Misao broke into his thoughts as she gave a broken mewl from the area of his chest.
“Aoshi-sama…..make it go away!” Aoshi’s heart skipped a beat in his chest at the cryptic words. He knew Misao had spoken in her sleep since she was a little girl, but never once had he heard this tone of voice. It chilled him to the bone.
Pushing Misao back onto the futon he implored her in a hushed whisper. “Misao, make what go away? What’s wrong?” Misao pushed against his chest, in an effort to remove the weight from her body. As she thrashed Aoshi’s thigh slipped between her own to better hold her in place. “Misao? What is it, tell me?!”
Aoshi’s voice was beginning to take on a desperate shrill. Misao responded to the forceful question by arching her body up against him, grinding her pelvic bone against his own. Aoshi bit his lip to keep a low moan from escaping him. When, finally, he was able make out Misao’s face beyond the haze of pleasure her action had invoked, Aoshi’s breath slipped through his teeth in a ragged hiss.
“Aoshi-sama, it’s so hot! Make it stop!!!” Aoshi realized the problem when Misao’s fevered body refused to keep still under his own. He lifted one eyelid, trying to make out her pupils in the semi-darkness. Even then, he didn’t need proof to know that Misao had been drugged. It was most likely a powerful mix of an aphrodisiac and sleeping medicine. Whoever had done the mixing had known nothing of Misao’s low tolerance for drugs.
‘Shimatta! Misao, what did you get yourself into!!!!?’ Aoshi cursed Misao’s foolishness for another time that evening. He froze as she bucked underneath him again. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he slowly retreated from his position atop her.
His back found the wall at the foot of her bed, and he slowly sunk down to the floor, burying his face in his hand as he realized the implications of the drugs she’d been given. Before him, Misao tossed restlessly on the futon, randomly clenching the bedding and pulling at her clothes.
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