The final threshold.

First off, any A/M fans reading this humble fiction of mine, please don’t send a flame to me just because this isn’t your preferred pairing. I find it to be rather petty and immature to flame a story simply because it isn’t your desired pair.

If anyone does, they will be used to burn Shishio, and I obviously won’t take them seriously. Anyone’s flame(s) for that matter, so don’t bother writing them.

. Now that I’ve gotten that out, I’d also like to ELABORATE on the fact that this is a MAJOR AU. After his defeat by Kenshin, Soujiro DOES wander around Japan for around three years, but let’s just say in MY fiction, he had a previous relationship with Misao, (not a sexual one by any means) and decided to come back to Kyoto after much hardship.

A bit of a cliché, I know this, but fate has strange ways no? Well, they “escape” and find a temporary sanctuary in a lonely home near the Yorkshire moors.

And I’m proud to say that this is the first Sou/Mi fiction published on AF.net! Italics mean thoughts. The characters will be somewhat OOC as well!


You will never know true happiness
until you have truly loved,
and you will never understand
what pain really is
until you have lost it….
*************************

The tall, wooden clock placed in a corners’ shadows rung an almost silent reckoning as another hour passed. The sound of water being rung into a bowl sounded soon after, almost hushing the mechanical sound with the a soothing, more natural one. Misao gingerly placed it atop the forehead of a young man lying weakly in a futon, watching his even breathing meticulously; as if taking her eyes away would cause his breath to cease.

Her vigil for him was always habitual rather than something she had to do, and this wander beside her was certainly not going anywhere. It was a certain sense of wont as she brushed a few brown locks away from his eyelids; she had done it out of worry or comfort whenever one of them was troubled. She was certainly troubled at this moment.

His yet unspoken desire to not stop and get his much needed rest had confused her, and even after much heated but polite debate with the local doctor he was still hesitant to lie down. After it all, the subservient doctor led the damaged Soujiro for a bath to wash the dirt and dried blood from his skin and torn clothing. Even now, with clean bandages and sedative dulling the pain hid nothing about his both external and internal suffering.

What have you done to yourself..? Her mind rang softly, brushing a both gentle and stern stare at the pink and purple scars marring his exposed skin, as if they had been healed but opened again. She remembered how she nearly bit her lip to a bleeding point when she saw the deep, diagonal slash from his collarbone to his hip. The extent of Kenshin’s ultimate attack had not yet been revealed to her, but Kenshin’s sense of mercy was not new or surprising, but somehow she sensed that his mercy towards Soujiro was deeper than his previous battles. Soujiro bore marks of it not just physically, but mentally as well. His indigo eyes had always been blank to her, only on rare and enchanting times would they reveal much more than words could ever describe.

Now they were filled with a turmoil she had never seen, a sense of confusion, grief and other indescribable emotions played inside those spheres of cerulean. Explanations would be good. She had felt the way Soujiro had clung to her as he fell weakly into her room, his grip nearly painfully tight, like a man would when he has lost something, longing to keep it safe again.

Twining her slim fingers with his, she leaned slightly downward and nestled herself gingerly against his side, the curve of her cheek resting on his shoulder. Let me help. Time had clearly shown her stubbornness, as it did his own, but she wasn’t going to let him suffer under an unspoken weight of guilt, no matter how much he protested.

“Baka, why won’t you listen?” her tone was vaguely reproving, barely stirring the silence in the room. “You’re pushing yourself too hard, why do you do these things?” the weary wanderer held in her warmth seemed to hear, his lips curling in the briefest smiles as his arm encircled her waist protectively.

Cradled in his embrace, Misao let her eyes travel along his face, wanting to kiss away the tiredness along his eyes, sooth the scrapes with the gentle balm of her lips and hands. Later. She told herself, setting the yearnings aside for the moment. Soon, but later. Closing her eyes in the luxury of contentment, Misao breathed in the light scent of fresh wood and sunbathed grass that accompanied him from travel.

This is what love feels like is it?

*****************

His other half had returned.

Even in a drugged sleep he could sense her nearby, stitching torn emotions and cooling unvoiced fears. Her gentle, yet scolding voice and touch painted the otherwise blackness of sleep with warm colors, bringing him to the surface once more. Soujiro stirred a little, mind and reactions still ambiguous from the medicine. The ache of torn flesh and muscle brought his senses awake, but so did the feel of Misao’s soft, feminine weight settled against him comfortably.

Raising drowsy lids, his sight confirmed it; her head was settled lazily against his shoulder, her arm a relaxed weight against his waist where she held him close. “If you don’t die from this, I’ll kill you anyhow.” His shoulder, teased by her tepid breath, muffled her quiet ramble. Soujiro tried to let out a chuckle, but was unable to do so. The Misao Makimachi he had known was coming back. “Soujiro,” she pleaded in a whisper, “tell me what’s been bothering you!” Misao lifted her dark head to cast beseeching hazel eyes to him, her face lined with worry in place of a smile.

Soujiro shook his head, not daring, the thought of revealing to her what had tattered his never ending nightmare every time he closed his eyes and forced sleep upon himself, sickened him. “Please…” she pleaded again, coming up closer to meet her eyes with his, “let me help”.

“I can’t, please Misao, don’t make me— he was silenced by her heated glare, her pale fingers clenching the fabric of his Yukata tightly. “I will make you, and you will tell me what’s wrong.” Her mouth was set in a firm line, her eyes not hiding the emotions in her heart at all.

You can’t hold this off any longer. A voice rang in his head quietly, urgently. Misao felt his body tremble under hers as he drew in a shaky breath. “My first assassination.” Soujiro began, a painful lump filling his throat. “My first assassination was around five years ago, I was assigned to a place near Hokkaido, I was fourteen.” He felt her nod, the long braid of her hair slipping over her shoulder.

“I was on the roof, the girl I was supposed to kill in front of me. She couldn’t even scream by how frightened she was.” His jaw worked soundlessly for a moment, the pain in his eyes more apparent than ever. “She fell off, the wretched thing had grace even as she tripped to the ground below…..a-a-nd she-I don’t know how….her face…” Misao wrapped her arms around him tightly, feeling his chest heave with shuddering breaths. “Her face looked like yours as she fell, I-I don’t know how…I didn’t even know you back then…h-how.” Soujiro wasn’t even aware he was crying until her fingers brushed his cheek, her jade eyes filled with unshed tears.

Misao buried her face into his shoulder, letting his tears soak into her hair, she felt as if it were good for him to cry, even if they were the most heart wrenching sobs she had ever heard. She continued to hold him until his chest calmed and his tears stopped flowing, feeling his arms curl around her. Kami-sama, has this man known nothing but pain?

“My dreams are always like my personal hell, please…please make them different…” Soujiro breathed into her ear, his breath slightly hitched. Misao nodded, “I will.” You can bet on I, I’ve seen Aoshi-sama smile for me, now I’m going to make you smile Soujiro. “Soujiro.” She spoke up, placing her hand on his chest were his heart beat a steady rhythm against her palm.

Soujiro looked at her face where it hovered above his own, a faint blush dusting her cheeks at the closeness. “Let me do this for you, onegai, let me love you tonight.” She saw his indigo eyes widen at her sudden statement, his mouth slightly agar. “But-but Misao…you can’t….we can’t…we’re not even married yet! I-I don’t want to….you deserve better.” He protested quietly, a flash of guilt running through his eyes as he titled his head to the side. “Soujiro, listen to me.” Misao urged, cupping the side of his face and tilting it so he looked at her straight in the face. “Don’t say that, please, don’t ever think you’re not worthy of mine or anyone else’s love.” She said with determination, keeping her eyes with his.

“But…we’re not married…you know what’ll happen—“

For the second time that night, he was silenced, but the eyes above his own weren’t scolding, they held warmth and acceptance.


“For this moment, let me be your wife.” She said.

********
I hope you enjoyed. And I know Misao sounds like a Mary-sue, but I couldn’t exactly put her in this situation being a happy, jumpy, loud sixteen year old now could I?

The next chapter should be up soon!