DISCLAIMER: If you actually think that I own Rurouni Kenshin, then by all means, sue me. No, don't I was just joking! I don't own it! And I'm not making money off this, so please don't sue me!

Butterfly

Snow fell languidly, the lazy flakes drifting from the sky to spiral in the wind before falling to the frozen ground, only to be crunched under his shoes as he trekked through the drifts. The frigid wind whipped at his coat, tugging at his clothes as if beckoning him to make haste and return home.

Home.

Aoshi was still unaccustomed to referring to the Aoiya as his home, though it was the closest thing he possessed to one. Though he knew he'd been forgiven for his actions after the death of his comrades, he had yet to forgive himself, and until he could there would be no place where he truly belonged. He had not yet decided what his path was to be; how could he call a place his "home," the starting point of his future, if he didn't know what that future was?

The bitter cold air caught in his throat, causing him to cough and inciting thoughts of the Aoiya's warmth. He'd never missed the quaint, cozy tavern as much as he did now. Business had carried him to Tokyo; its nature had called for discreteness and secrecy, which meant he'd had to travel on foot and on lesser-used roads while still in the city. Despite the strict training he'd imposed on his body, he'd caught a chill in the winter air and could think of nothing more enjoyable than Misao fussing over him when he returned, her eyes a mix of consternation and concern.

Though he didn't smile, his icy eyes warmed at the thought. How he'd changed for him to think of Misao as anything other than a child. She'd been in his mind constantly during this trip, her image flitting in and out of his vision like a butterfly. He had refused her offer to accompany him, for, like a butterfly, she was too delicate –no, not delicate, he corrected himself, for Misao had earned her place as part of the Oniwabanshu. She was too precious to bring out in this harsh weather.

Another cough wracked him, this one more violent than the last. He momentarily considered waiting out the storm at Himura and Kaoru's dojo, but quickly decided against it. Not only did he wish to avoid the Takani woman's ministrations, but he also wanted to return to Kyoto as soon as possible.

The snow crunched behind him and he tensed, his hand sliding up to the sheath on his back. Though deserted at the moment, this was a civilian road, and drawing his kodachi would only earn him a cell in the local jail. He continued walking only to have a hand grab his arm and halt his progress.

"You," a gruff voice murmured behind him. "Draw your kodachi."

Aoshi turned to face the man, taking in his four comrades with a flick of his eyes. "It is illegal to unsheathe a blade on public streets," he said coolly, calculating the odds in his head. Though outnumbered and slightly weakened, he could tell from the way they held their swords that they were not as skilled as he was. He refused to back away from a challenge, but he also knew the senselessness of fighting a battle he could not win.

"One of our kinsmen is dead because of you," another growled, pointing his battered katana at Aoshi. "And we intend to avenge him."

The first man stepped forward. "I'm sure no one would mind if the blood of Himitsu's killer were spilled on this street. A hired assassin such as you is worth nothing compared to the honorable man you murdered, but your death will ease our consciences."

^~^~^~^~^

Sunlight streamed in through the open window, falling gently over Misao's eyes and rousing her from sleep. Stretching slowly, she rose from her bed and gazed wistfully out the window. Her mornings had been spent wandering aimlessly around the Aoiya until the rest of the city roused; she missed her morning ritual at the temple, for it gave her an excuse to be near Aoshi, even if he rarely spoke. Just his company was enough.

Aoshi. She missed him so much.

He'd been away on business for nearly two weeks now, and each day the ache in Misao's heart grew more urgent. Despite her attempts to occupy her mind and turn her thoughts away from him, she was never successful for more than a few seconds. Her heart was changing, maturing; Aoshi had left for years before returning with Himura, and she had been fine. She had missed him and Hannya and all the others, but it had never hurt her. Not like this. She had finally blossomed after years of childish affection, had finally spread her wings and taken the leap into the wind. And now that she had experienced its intoxicating taste, she could not –would not– relinquish it again.

But, with Aoshi gone, the wind she had soared on had turned to a mere breeze, a breath of air unable to keep even a butterfly afloat. She tottered on the edge of a cliff, ready to leap off and fly but unable to do so without a current to sail on.

I'm so lonely without you, Aoshi-sama. Come back, onegai.

Misao nodded absentmindedly to Shiro and Omasu as she passed them, then paused as she saw Okina sitting by the open sudare, a pigeon at his side and a paper in his hands. Her curiosity –which was unaffected by her heart's distress– piqued, and Misao leaned over his shoulder to read it.

Okina,

Aoshi has been injured. Megumi-san is treating him at our dojo. It may be a few days before he returns, so tell Misao-san not to worry if he is late.

Himura Kenshin

Covering her mouth with her hands, Misao gasped. Aoshi-sama has been injured? "How can that be?" She met Okina's eyes, searching for reassurance. "Who could have hurt Aoshi-sama?"

"Calm down, Misao," Okina said, getting to his feet and smiling down at her. "I'm sure Aoshi is fine. Takani Megumi is a very capable doctor, and Gensai-sensei will no doubt assist her. There is no need to worry."

But Misao was no longer listening to him. She turned and hastened back to her room, swiftly changing into her ninja gear and snatching up her small bag of money. Okon and Kuro had joined the three others by the time she returned and aided Okina in halting her headlong flight.

"Misao, yamero!" Okina ordered, taking her by the shoulders. "Are you planning on walking all the way to Tokyo?"

"Of course not!" she replied as she struggled to free herself. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, so fast that it sounded more like a steady hum. "I'm going on the train. Ima, let me go!"

Okina released his hold on her, but regarded her sternly as he continued to block her path. "Just what would you accomplish by going to Tokyo?" he asked, his tone gentler yet still firm. "Aoshi is going to be fine, and even if he weren't, what would your presence do?"

Clenching her fists, Misao forced back the hot tears that threatened to betray her. The restlessness of the past weeks welled up inside her, combining with her growing dismay to squeeze her heart and shorten her breath with a lump of emotion. No one had dared speak Aoshi's name in her presence, and now that she'd heard it, she longed for him even more. "I don't care. Onegai, just let me go to him."

^~^~^~^~^

A throbbing in his head and a searing pain in his chest dragged Aoshi back to consciousness, ripping him from the numbing darkness that had encompassed him. He opened his eyes slowly, allowing them to adjust to the sudden light and get his bearings. Two dark orbs loomed over him, causing him to blink in surprise. They narrowed slightly and he realized they were Takani Megumi's eyes.

"Ano, it's about time you woke up," she said cheerfully. Aoshi glanced around and recognized the familiar features of Himura and Kaoru's dojo. He and Okina had accompanied Misao here for a visit only a few months ago and had stayed in a spare room similar to this one. "You've been unconscious for almost two days. How are you feeling?"

Flexing his muscles, Aoshi found that the only places that were still painful were his chest and head. The men who had attacked him had not been so skilled that he could not have defeated them easily –if he hadn't been so ill and they so determined to get revenge. It had been five to one, and Aoshi had soon succumbed to his weakness and had been defeated. "Daijoubu," he replied curtly.

"That's good. You were quite sick for a while; your fever broke only this morning. Between that and the wounds you received, I was beginning to worry. You're fortunate Tae-san decided to leave the Akabeko early, else you would have been out in the snow all night. You are healing well, though." Megumi glanced at him sideways, looking very much like the kitsune that was her byname. "Mind telling me how you got those wounds, Aoshi?"

Staring at the ceiling, Aoshi forced the bitterness from his voice and recounted his tale. "I was returning from business in Tokyo. I was ill, and because of that I was unable to fight when several men came to avenge one of the officials I had slain."

Megumi's reply was interrupted by a commotion outside the room, then the sudare slid open and Misao rushed in.

"Aoshi-sama!" she cried, kneeling beside him. "Genki-yo? Doushitano?"

He met her wide blue eyes, disbelieving. She had come all this way for him? All he had thought about was her, and like magic she appeared in front of him exactly when he needed her the most. Her presence both surprise and pleased him, and an emotion stirred within him that he was unable to name. "Misao," he murmured.

Megumi smiled and got to her feet. "I'll be right back with some tea."

"Oh, Megumi-san! Gomen, I didn't mean to ignore you," Misao said hurriedly.

"No need to apologize," Megumi replied, waving away the younger woman's words. "I know you were worried. We weren't expecting you." Misao's concerns put to rest, the doctor walked silently from the room, leaving Aoshi alone with Misao.

^~^~^~^~^

"Genki-yo, Aoshi-sama?" Misao inquired again, her voice tight with the mixture of relief and joy sweeping through her.

Aoshi nodded, regarding her solemnly. "You should not have come all this way by yourself."

"I had to!" she said, clenching her trembling hands. "Jiya received a message saying you had been hurt, and I was so worried about you that I had to come. What if something had happened, and you…" Flames danced across her cheeks as she realized she was about to cry. "I, I was just-" Her voice trailed off as Aoshi sat up. She lifted her head to meet his eyes, surprised to see a half smile on his face.

The wave of emotion within her crested and she pitched herself forward into Aoshi's arms. His arms came up to embrace her slowly, hesitantly, as if she were some timid creature that would bolt at his touch. "I was so worried," she whispered into his shoulder. "Ai- aishiteru, Aoshi-sama. I don't know what I would do if you- if anything happened to you."

His embrace tightened momentarily before he gently pushed her away. Their gazes met, and she wiped the tears from her face as he studied her acutely. He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it and shook his head slightly. "I don't want to hinder you, Misao," he said quietly. "You'll only be in danger if you fall in love with me. I'm an assassin, a man of death. You're too full of life. I'll only hold you down."

"Hold me down?" Misao repeated incredulously. "You've never held me down! You've taught me so much…" Oh, how she wished she could put into words the euphoria that claimed her at his mere presence, the high that came with his touch. He didn't hold her down; he was the one who had given her flight. How could she make him understand?

"This is what I want," she began firmly, pleading with her eyes. "I'm not some flower whose petals would break with the slightest pressure! I'm stronger than that, and it's because of you!" Dashing at her eyes with the back of her hand, Misao gazed ardently up at him. "You would never hold me down."

Drawing in a deep, tremulous breath, Misao leaned forward until her mouth brushed his. A thrill went up her spine as their lips connected, and her mind erupted when Aoshi didn't pull back, soaring to heights she'd never dreamed of reaching. To her surprise, he tilted his head forward to deepen their kiss and encircle her once more in his arms. She sailed ever higher until she was dizzy with the rush.

He fingers brushed her cheek. "Misao."

"Shh…" she sighed against his lips, unwilling to descend just yet. A breeze stirred around her, slinking in through the open window. Finally, she was able to fly again. Her heart was content.

A/N: Heh, heh… My first –and only– Kenshin fic. Whachya think? I know, I kinda stressed the symbolism a little, but it's a bad habit of mine. Review! And please don't be too harsh!