On The Way

Chapter One

An Aoshi/Misao Fanfic

Disclaimer: All rights and ownership to Nobuo Watsuki and official companies. This is a work of fiction.

Starting soon after the Kyoto Arc and crossing through the Jinchuu Arc and after. Misao and Aoshi explore where they stand in their new relationship.

…

"You want me to what?"

"I thought you would be ecstatic, Misao," Okina sounded surprised. He certainly looked surprised.

"What does Aoshi-sama have to say about it? You talked to him first, I suppose," Misao furrowed her brow and crossed her arms.

"Misao," Okina sighed. Of course he had talked to Aoshi first. But it wasn't like he got any outward response from the meditating man.

"What, Jiiya? What? Am I just supposed to do it, just because you tell me to?" Misao huffed.

"Not because I suggested it, no. But I thought," Okina trailed off as he saw Misao drop her gaze.

Her arms, which had crossed in defiance, dropped to her sides, hands in tight fists. She might not have noticed the tremors that shook, but Okina did.

"Never mind, Misao. Take it as an old man's ramblings, okay?" Okina patted the girl's shoulder and walked from the room to leave her with her thoughts.

'How can Jiiya suggest that?' Misao thought. Shaking her head, she ran out of the Aoiya. She needed air, something she couldn't get in the stifling city.

Running through the crowds, Misao heard people shouting greetings to her, but she didn't stop and didn't wave back. It wasn't until she was high in the hills around the city that she slowed. Bamboo rose high into the sky and she trekked up to the outpost building.

Over the years of her childhood, Misao used to run to and from the outpost for training. Her speed as a onmitsu came from those years of running. Many of the people who called to her in the streets had seen her do it countless times and they had cheered her on.

Misao opened the door to the small building. Once she had run to that hill with a desperation that left her heartbroken. Now it was a dark memory, a scar in her heart she wished she could ignore. She knew ignoring it wouldn't be the same as accepting it for what it truly was, but she couldn't pretend, not in the quiet solitude, that she was alright.

She still loved Aoshi more than anyone. That was why his betrayal hurt more than when Okina promised to destroy Aoshi. It wasn't just that Aoshi had almost killed her guardian, it was that he had thrown her aside. For what? The honor of their fallen comrades. They were Misao's comrades too. They were her family. But he still threw her, and her feelings, aside.

Stepping into the shed, Misao laid on the scrubbed floor. It was morbid to lie in the ghost of Okina's blood, lying as he had after the fight, but Misao's heart felt like it was torn, just as much as Okina's body had been.

Staring at the ceiling of the hut, Misao thought back to Okina's words.

'How about you and Aoshi get married?'

Misao closed her eyes, hoping the darkness would give her some comfort.

Marriage was not a status familiar to Misao. None of the Oniwabanshuu were married. Her parents were, when they were alive, as was her grandfather, at some point. But she didn't have memories of them. No one else was married, why did she have to do it?

According to Meiji society, marriage was either decided by a girl's guardian or because the couple loved each other. But even if Okina told her to marry Aoshi, even if she did love him, Misao wasn't sure she could do it.

Loving Aoshi.

Misao did. Truly and deeply. But it wasn't necessarily a romantic love. It wasn't like the hearts in eyes Misao saw in Okon whenever the name Hiko Seijurou came up. Misao's heart didn't skip, her stomach didn't flop, when she thought or saw Aoshi.

There was an emptiness when he wasn't there. When she woke that morning, all those years ago, to find her family had left her in Kyoto, a hole burned into her heart. She had filled that hole with memories and a determination to become a great fighter to prove to Aoshi that he made a mistake to leave her behind.

But the first thing she saw when she finally laid eyes on him again was a man she didn't know. And the hole grew bigger. His abandonment and then his betrayal. His rejection of her and her existence. It took sheer will to bandage Okina and help him to the doctors. But she was empty until rage filled it.

The line between the obsession of love and hate was a fine thread. And it had broken within her.

With Kenshin's promise to bring Aoshi, the real Aoshi, back, Misao felt that string mend itself, that that knot was a reminder of how fragile her love could be.

Her feelings, if they could change so easily, if they could be swayed by him so easily, could she ever really know what she felt?

Misao wasn't certain which one she was more afraid of: not knowing if she could trust herself? Or not knowing if she could trust Aoshi.

Groaning, she threw an arm over her eyes. Okina told her to forget it, but a marriage proposal was no easy idea to forget. Silently, Misao agonized for hours before she felt a shift.

Sitting up like she was shocked by lightning, she turned as a shadow filled the doorway.

Their eyes locked, but neither spoke. Misao out of stubbornness, Aoshi because he was Aoshi.

He broke the stare first, looking to where she was sitting. His downturned mouth tightened as he saw her, legs stretched out on the floor. He knew she had been lying down.

Looking back at her face, he saw a stubborn glare, daring him to comment on it. Misao wanted to know how he felt about it, but that was why he spent every day in quiet meditation. To do as Kenshin told him; find peace to gain closure.

"Misao."

She sat silently, waiting for him to complete his sentence. Misao may have always been able to read into what he wanted to convey to her when she was young. But that was years ago when they had been together constantly. They, or rather, Aoshi didn't need to say anything more than her name. His tone was enough to tell her what he thought.

Now, she wanted him to talk to her. Misao wasn't going to fill the silence.

When he didn't say anything else, Misao turned away. Lying back down, she spread her arms and stared at the ceiling. The sun was falling to the horizon, but travelling home in the dark wasn't a concern for her. She had done it countless times before.

"Misao, Okina is worried about you."

Misao closed her eyes. "You can tell him I'm fine."

"It's getting dark."

"That's not a problem."

"Misao, will you come back?"

"Later."

Aoshi fell silent, looking at Misao lying on the floor. He saw conflicting memories. One where the shed was splattered in blood and Okina laid where Misao was. The other was a slumbering Misao. So safe in her sleep, sprawled in her futon, not knowing Aoshi and the others were leaving.

It wasn't regret that he felt, but something fisted inside his lungs and it made Aoshi mentally shake himself. Stepping backwards, he left the doorway.

Misao opened her eyes, loneliness and confusion biting at her.

Just months before, she had travelled to Tokyo on her own, trying to find clues because she wanted to be with him. Now, he was there, staying at the Aoiya with everyone, but she wasn't as happy as she thought she would be.

Was it because the others were gone?

Was it because Aoshi wasn't how she remembered? Was it that she actually in love with the idea of loving Aoshi?

No matter how much she loved the group at the Aoiya, no matter that she lived with them longer, Aoshi was the one her grandfather entrusted her to. And as long as Aoshi was alive, Misao knew that she would always view him at the one she cared the most deeply for. She just couldn't find what that exact emotion was.

Misao sighed.

Even though it was still summer, the sun was dipping below the horizon. The way she left was bound to be stressful on Okina. So, even though she wanted to be alone with her thoughts for longer, she rolled up and left the outpost.

Something felt off as she closed the door behind her. There was a stillness that seemed unnatural. Reaching into her bow at her back, Misao freed a kunai she kept there and readied it in her fingers.

Carefully, Misao threaded her way through the underbrush, rather than taking the path. It seemed ridiculous for such a nuanced feeling she was getting, but the stillness unnerved her. Making no more noise than the natural wildlife, she made it a dozen meters before there was an awakening of ki and Misao whirled towards it with a swipe of her kunai.

"Misao."

Aoshi easily evaded her attack and gently gripped her wrist. He saw the panic turn to surprise then turn to relief in her eyes. She sagged to the earth with a sigh, still clutching her weapon.

"What are you doing?"

He heard the tremor in her voice, revealing that even after seeing it was him, she was still scared.

"I was waiting for you. And meditating."

That was the odd stillness. The restrained and calm concentration of a warrior's ki.

Misao struggled briefly to stand. Her wrist was still lightly, but decidedly within Aoshi's grasp. She tested it lightly by pulling it to her side. His hand followed.

"Let go, please, Aoshi-sama," she finally requested.

His fingers opened and she stepped away. Misao turned for the path. There was no more need to hide in the forest. As she broke free of the low bushes, she holstered her kunai and brushed a stray leaf that clung to her leg. Without looking behind her, she started to walk to the city.

She felt Aoshi more than she heard him. No one could hear him if he didn't want to be heard. But Misao felt his presence behind her the whole way.

People greeted her as they walked through the city. Since she was going slowly, she went ahead and smiled and waved in return.

"Ah! Misao-chan, Misao-chan!" A shopkeeper waved her over.

"Good evening, Nagamine-san," Misao greeted the man as she walked over.

"You've got a good looking shadow following you. Is that your beloved Aoshi-sama? Or have you given up and found yourself someone new?" Nagamine, the clothing merchant, whispered with a wag of his eyebrows.

"Nagamine-san!" Misao hissed, lunging over the display table to clamp a hand over the man's mouth. "He's not my beloved anything. Stop spouting nonsense."

"Oh? He's looking over here." Nagamine's eyes went wide as they undoubtedly looked into the icy stare. "He's angry."

"He probably isn't," Misao said, moving her body to block his view. "He just looks like that."

"Uh, Misao-chan, you're too cheerful for someone that gloomy. Why don't you think of finding a different lover?"

"Nagamine-san," Misao enunciated slowly, "I thank you for your concern and your suggestion, but neither will be required."

"Ah, of course, Misao-chan," Nagamine swallowed at the frosty smile he received. "If you ever want to find a new clothing style, remember to stop by!"

"Have a good night, Nagamine-san," Misao lightened her smile and bounced away from the stall.

Turning back to the street, Misao continued as if Aoshi had not heard the whole exchange. She actually pretended like he wasn't following right behind her at all.

"I'm home," Misao intoned as she opened the door to the Aoiya.

"Misao-chan!" Omasu ran up. "I'm glad you're back. I'll let Okina know. Welcome home, Aoshi-san."

Misao shucked off her sandals and put them aside before running away to her room. Aoshi wouldn't follow her there. What Nagamine said bothered her. It was like the letter Okina wrote her before he went to fight Aoshi during the Shishio incident.

If it wasn't Aoshi, would she, could she, find love in someone else?

Shaking her head, Miso tried to dislodge the thought. She already knew it wasn't the bright flare of romance. Misao knew that. Maybe it was too much to think that love was such a singular thing. Like how Misao loved her comrades as if they were family. That was a love, too.

Shinomori Aoshi was the most important person to her. And that was what she would focus on. She had promised Kenshin. He brought Aoshi home to her, she would return his smile.

"Forget about what Jiiya said. Forget it," Misao said, slapping her cheeks. "You got this, Misao. Pull yourself together."

When Misao went down for dinner, Aoshi was absent. Okina was glad to see Misao home and didn't press her about where she had gone during the day. He had no intention of bringing up any thought that Misao was clearly ignoring.

"Where's Aoshi-sama?" Misao sat at the table beside Okina.

"He said he'll eat in his room today," Omasu said, a tray in her hands ready to take it up.

Misao frowned.

"Omasu, set his place, I'll go get him," Misao stood up and patted the woman's arm.

"Aoshi-sama, Aoshi-sama," Misao sang out as she walked down the hallway of their private rooms. She rapped on the wood door frame. "Aoshi-sama, come down for dinner."

The door slid open and Misao smiled up to Aoshi. She reached for his sleeve and tugged for him to follow her back downstairs. He followed her silently, without resistance.

There were other guests in the dining room by the time they arrived, so Misao just steered Aoshi to his seat and released him to drop back to her spot. Okina had waited patiently for their return before they ate in silence. Conversation from the patrons filled the room with chatter and Misao practiced eavesdropping on them while she ate. As a spy, she was always finding opportunities to train.

"Nee, Jiiya, we should do something for Sae-san, right? She let us stay at the Shirobeko for so long."

"I've been thinking about it. Though, I haven't thought of a good gift," Okina mused.

"Maybe something for the store? Or something useful for the kitchen," Misao mused. Suddenly, she got an idea, "What about a new knife? Made by Arai Seiku-san? You remember the daikon radish, right?"

"Misao, you know it isn't right to buy knives as gifts for people," Okina reminded her.

"But they're really good," Misao grumbled. She knew it wasn't good to gift knives or blades to people. It symbolized the cutting of relationships. But she was a fighter. Getting a good blade was the best thing she could get. "What if it's chef to chef? Shiro and Kuro can give it to her as a symbol of… I don't know."

"You aren't wrong, Misao. Arai-san's blade would be a wonderful gift for Sae-san, but she's a civilian."

"But she knows our situation," Misao nibbled at her dinner. She picked up her tea cup. "What about we ask Hiko Seijurou for some cups for her?"

"I fear he would refuse."

"Or extort a ton of money," Misao agreed.

"Did someone say Hiko Seijurou?" Okon dropped by, leaning over the table in excitement.

"No, but since you're here, I would like more tea," Okina passed the empty pot to Okon.

Misao giggled and finished her dinner.

"I'm going to help them in the kitchen," Misao cleaned up their table and scurried off while balancing their dishes.

"She seems fine, right, Aoshi?"

The younger man just looked into his cup, as stone faced as the day he got back.

"You don't think so, do you?"

Aoshi drained his cup before leaving the table.

…

Author's note: I hear you. "But Misao looooooves Aoshi!" I know. But seriously? How could a five year old know that she was romantically {in love} with Aoshi? I'm saying that people's feelings are never so clear cut. This story is about the evolution and trials they go through internally, given their pasts, to see where it takes them. No, it's not going to be lovey dovey. (That is for the M-rated one-shot I want to write after I get this one up.) So never you fear, this is just a journey they have to take. I hope you stick around to see how it goes.

If you like it or hate it, please, leave me a review, I love seeing them! See you next chapter!