Part III -- Word Games

     It was strange to see the restaurant so dark at such an early hour, Megumi mused as she returned from her rounds.  Though her patient list was fairly small, it had taken longer than usual, what with the Nakamura girl's illness relapsing so suddenly.  It wasn't quite sunset and the Aoiya looked closed.  Megumi assumed the worst and broke into a run, her geta echoing against the hard-packed dirt of the road.  As she grew closer, she saw the note on the door.  "Closed today for staff meeting," it said.
     When the Oniwa Banshu had a staff meeting, it usually meant major trouble.  She ran around to the back door, dark eyes wide with worry.
     Okina was the first to speak, as they all watched her enter.  "Megumisan, you can't leave me here!"  Putting on a big show of crocodile tears, he knelt in front of her, melodramatic as always.  "If you leave, who will fill my days with beauty and light?  Who will fill my nights with heat and --"
     "Enough, Jiya," Ochika chided sharply.
     "Never let an old man have any fun," he grumbled as he rose.
     "What Okina was trying to say, Megumisan, is that we -- all of us -- want very much for you to stay, to make this your home."  Ochika smiled warmly.  "If you were to leave, the whole balance would be upset.  It would be like amputating a limb," she said with sudden inspiration.
     Megumi did nothing but blink rather owlishly at them for a long moment.
     "Please, Megumisan," Shirojo said softly.  "We've all come to think of you as one of our own, and it truly would not be the same without you."
     His girlfriend, a quiet young woman named Emiko, spoke up.  "If you will forgive me," her low voice eased its way through the tension, "I too would ask that you not leave the Aoiya.  These people care for you very much, as do many of us here in Kyoto, and to lose you would bear heavy repercussions for all of us."
     "What I would like to know," Megumi said with her old fire, "is why you're so eager to get rid of me that you're wasting time planning my departure for me instead of supporting the Aoiya itself."
     Several jaws dropped as twice as many eyes blinked as bewildered as she surveyed the room.  Unable to deny that she had a point, they all hesitated to speak.
     At last, it was Aoshi who broke the silence.  "Megumisan."  All eyes turned to him, even hers as she waited for him to speak.  Deep blue eyes met hers and somehow the others seemed to fade into the background as she was caught up in the intensity of that gaze.
     "Aoshisan..?"  She'd barely whispered his name in response, but it seemed to echo more loudly than a shout.
     "Don't go."
     "I can't stay."
     "Please."  The intense gaze fell from hers as he bowed his head and turned away.  The silence was tangible; this was the closest that Shinomori Aoshi, Okashira of the Oniwa Banshu by age fifteen, had ever come to begging.  But could Megumi understand that?  Would she know?  None of them had ever taken much of an opportunity to tell her about him; the subject had simply never quite come up.  Or perhaps, they all came to wonder, she'd been avoiding it...
     "I am not leaving yet," she said softly.  It seemed to be enough for the tall man.
     A long moment passed.  "Good!  Then you'll make us those wonderful onigiri of yours!" Okina crowed.
     The group turned to look at him.  "What?" he said, attempting to put on an innocent face.
     Heads shook as people filtered out of the room.  Okina was last out, still protesting his innocence and leaving Megumi alone with Aoshi.
     "There's something none of you are telling me," she said.
     Images flashed through his mind as he contemplated her reflection in the window.  It seemed so much more than five years since he'd left her alone in the tower that night...  He remembered the feel of her unconscious body as he'd carried her to the tower, the fire in her eyes as she'd stood up to the gold-eating demon who'd tormented them both in his own way.  The way she'd looked at him with such raw emotion -- mostly fear, at that horrid moment when she'd been contemplating suicide.  He had been going to let her -- at least that way one of them might die with honor, he'd felt.
     That day at the dojo, her face pale with shock and fear as she'd choked out his name...  Of course she feared he'd come for her.  She had been so beautiful even as she collapsed to her knees, her hair flowing freely, framing her face.  He closed his eyes, intensely aware of her impatient presence behind him.
     "Aoshisan..."
     The dark head shook slightly.  "There is nothing," he said.  "We want you to make your home here."  He turned to face her again.  "I want you to make your home here."
     She looked then as she had that long-ago day, faint and pale and so breathtaking.  He ached to reach for her but it was not who he was.  Already he had been more forward than he had ever been in his life.  She wanted to fall to her knees again, to give in to the temptation to faint and pretend it was all a dream.  Memories of a dark dojo, cold blue eyes boring into hers, turned over in her head with the image of his face bent over her in concern though a dark haze of pain.  His motionless figure when she'd expected to see Kensan, his careful fingers tending to her injury with the understanding of long practice.
     Which was him?  Which man was Shinomori Aoshi, the cold, distant killer or the deeply sensitive yet shy manager of a restaurant?
     Could he have reconciled the two, as Kensan had?
     He wasn't anything like the redheaded rurouni, she knew.  And yet, it wasn't impossible...  There were certain parallels in the lives of the two men, once she thought about it.
     And, he wasn't Sano.  Even years afterwards, the few times she saw Yahiko and Tsubame, the young man couldn't resist teasing her about the "great catch" she'd missed out on.
     She wondered how Yahiko would react to this development...
     "Aoshisan, I can't just give up all my hope of ever seeing my family again.  If you thought you had a chance to see those you lost, you wouldn't pass it up."
     Silently, he looked at her for a long moment before shaking his head.
     "If my family is gone, I might come back."
     Again, he shook his head.  "I have sent to Aizu for news."
     It was Megumi's turn to stare, as the tiniest of smiles crossed his face, if only fleetingly.  "The Oniwa Banshu are everywhere, after all."
     "I don't understand."
     "If there is any trace of your family, anywhere near Aizu, I will hear of it."  The thought of whether he would tell her or not crossed his mind, but he dismissed it immediately.  Far better to see her happy no matter the cost to himself, than he should make himself happy by keeping her near only to see her miserable.  Caged birds sing but rarely, and even then the song was without joy.  He had seen her caged once.
     There was another long silence as she searched his face for some answer, some hint as to an ulterior motive, but found nothing to her satisfaction.  Bowing her head, she thanked him softly and turned to leave the room.  He watched her reflection vanish.
     Ochika and Omasu watched her walking, deep in thought, and exchanged glances.  "I worry for her," Ochika admitted.
     "I worry for both of them.  Still, it's encouraging that Aoshisama has sent for word.  Maybe she'll pick up on that."
     The shorter woman shook her head.  "I don't think she has yet, at any rate.  Poor Aoshisama...  I wonder what Misao is up to?"  There was a hesitation as she spoke the other woman's name; it was still rather difficult to figure out what to call her.  The instinct to call her "Misaochan" was still strong, though she'd been their Okashira for years before taking to the road.
     "After all," her words echoed in their minds for a long time, "it isn't like there's anything much here to keep me, now that all that's over."  It had been clear that she hadn't meant the fighting, either.
     Ochika nodded.  "I'm sure we'll hear from her soon enough.  She does like to send letters when she finds something exciting."
     Omasu grinned.  "Maybe she's come to find Sanosan exciting?"  The two women laughed.  "That would be interesting to see, at least."  Their conversation drifted on in other directions as they went back to cleaning the kitchen.
     Megumi had taken no notice of them, wandering into the twilight streets.  Aoshi watched her go before he turned back towards his favorite spot.  He needed to think.
     When she'd come into his life, years before, he had been struck by her beauty and fire, her intelligence and wit, everything about her had burned into him.  But under the circumstances, it was perhaps better to turn the attraction to condescension, he'd figured.  Life had been so bleak, working for Takeda Kanryu.  The money hungry madman had sought to own them all, to possess their skills for themselves, but he had never been able to buy their love or loyalty.  They'd worked for him out of need.
     They didn't get what they needed.  Not only did they get no respect but the money was just barely enough to keep them going, the five of them, Hannya and Shikijyou, Beshimi and Hyoutoko.  And himself.  Still, it was something, and the fight against the former Battousai had been more than worth it.  But there had always been something missing, and when he had been forced to send his men -- his friends -- after "a mere woman" as the sick bastard had put it, his resentment had grown exponentially.  Not so much for the tasks they were given as for the man's attitude...  When Aoshi had seen the "mere" woman they'd been sent to chase, he'd known immediately why Kanryu had demanded such a prize, and for such a price.  It was not for her medical skills alone.  The thought had revolted them all, shredding what little pride they might have had left, but there had seemed to be little choice.  It had been so difficult to hear her screams and not rush in to kill the pathetic, smarmy worm that called itself a businessman.
     Especially for one who loved her on sight.
     Kenshin had been too easy on him.  On both of them, he mused.  The Hitokiri Battousai had been unvanquishable by anyone but Himura Kenshin.  It was a lesson that Aoshi had learned the hard way; though someone else might defeat one's body in a battle, the only person who could truly destroy someone was himself.  Though Kenshin had bested him physically and shown him a better way once more, he had faced a changing reality by himself.
     Shinomori Aoshi wasn't all bad after all.  He smiled to himself again as he ascended the steps to the shrine, clearing his thoughts and allowing the calming silence to envelop him.
     Dust puffed up slightly around her geta as Megumi walked aimlessly through the streets.  It hadn't rained in many days.  She loved the rain, but not if it was storming.  Storms had too many bad memories.
     She couldn't figure out why he was being so nice to her.  She hadn't done anything, had she?  Nothing beyond the call of duty, surely.  And she was positive, with such a display from all of them, that she hadn't done anything to upset anyone, or they'd let her know instead of making a whole display to convince her not to leave.  Still, it was strange.  If she didn't know any better, she might think that the sinister man who had once led the Oniwa Banshu was attracted to her.
     He was not unattractive; she found it very hard not to stare at him sometimes.  Still, they were barely friends.  So why was he acting so strangely?  What would prompt him to say such odd things?
     Her hair hung heavily in the dry air, and she put it up in irritation, tying it around itself to hang in a low, thick knot at the back of her neck.  She'd pondered hacking it off, or at least a lot of it, to around the length she'd worn it back at the dojo.  Still, it was her pride (as though she had little else to be vain about) and the thought didn't quite appeal.  Besides, it was longer now than even Misao's had been and very useful; she'd taken to braiding it and using it as a whip when she needed to keep someone (usually Jiya) in line.  It was how he'd ended up with all those black eyes; one haughty toss of her head and, quite by accident of course, he always happened to be in the path of the braid.  Quite a coincidence.
     (She'd gotten very good at aiming it.)
     All her thoughts kept coming back to that one line: Why was Aoshi acting the way he was?
     She finally managed to push the nagging feelings to the back of her mind, deciding instead to concentrate on her surroundings.  Kyoto at sunset was beautiful, full of people and activity but with its quiet side as well.  There was a warmth there, for her, that had been lacking in Tokyo since Kenshin had married the silly country girl and Yahiko had moved in with Sanosuke.  Fortunately the apartment was larger and neater than the ex-gangster's former lodgings.
     The streets, golden in the fading sunlight and dry from no rain were relatively empty at this hour.  It was hardly unusual; sunset in the summer was late enough that the markets would close and families would be home and dining or visiting friends.  Trees were far more abundant here even than Tokyo, too, and their powerful verdancy calmed her and saddened her as well.  She felt she was in the summer of life, in her prime and as full as the season itself; but fall followed eventually and the eventuality loomed ever closer.  But their rich color comforted her now.
     Birds called out their evening songs, a potential cacophony that became pleasant background noise with distance and distraction.  The occasional horse and carriage passing by, or a snatch of conversation from other pedestrians hardly bothered her.
     She wandered through town, uninterrupted until the soft sounds of another pair of geta approached her.  "Megumisan?"
     "Emikosan.  Is everything all right?"
     "I was going to ask the same of you.  You seem preoccupied, and after the earlier discussion...  Shirojo and the others are greatly worried for you."
     Megumi nodded.  "Thank you.  It isn't so much that I want to leave...  I'm not sure they all understand it."
     "Oh, but they do, Megumisan.  That I know.  It is just hard for them to say they do.  Shirojo says that for the Oniwa Banshu, home is anywhere there are other Oniwa Banshu.  Some places are more home than others, but there is always home."
     "Be that as it may, Emikosan, my home was destroyed years ago.  I made a new one and that too was taken from me, by Kanryu."  Emiko knew the story of how Megumi had come to the Kamiya dojo.  "Every time I find someplace I can call home, something goes wrong.  I'm tired of that, Emikosan."
     "Not without reason, Megumisan.  But I think if you are patient just a little more, home will come to you."
     The doctor nodded thoughtfully, and the two women walked in silence together.  Emiko was a teacher, and she loved her job.  She was good at it, and the children loved her and worked diligently to make her happy.  She was a kind and sensitive woman who cared very much for Shirojo, and the tall young man was crazy about her.  They were talking about marriage, thinking about settling down and having a family.
     "Emikosan?  How well do you know Aoshisan?"
     "Not well at all, I fear.  Why do you ask?"
     Megumi sighed.  "Well, he's been acting rather strangely lately."
     "How so?" the younger woman asked.
     "He's been acting very proprietary.  I thought he hated me.  After everything that happened..."  Megumi shook her head slowly.  "He left me the knife to kill myself, when I thought there was no other choice, you know."
     Emiko nodded.  "It was for honor.  In his mind then, one of you, at least, deserved it and the peace he hoped for you to have.  If your friends were defeated, Kanryu would make things even worse for you, and I think Aoshisan would not want that."
     While she digested that, the two walked on until the Aoiya came into sight.  "I will go back to the store now.  We will speak again later," Emiko said with a smile.  Megumi smiled back, and the slight woman went off down the street as Megumi entered the yard, bright under the moon.