Under The Circumstances

An r.k. Fanfic

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

"Healing"

 

 

 

"It never makes you feel ashamed

You sit around and you sulk and you're passing the blame

But everybody knows that it's no crime..."

 

Oasis

 

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He stood off to the side, silently observing the small boy as he worked the ropes to pull the heavy bucket out of the well. His tiny hands would have been seemed very delicate if it were not for the calluses and scars that crisscrossed his palms, marring the once-perfect lines that marked them as his own. His body looked so frail under his ragged clothes it was difficult to believe that he had the strength to draw the water all on his own. With obvious difficulty, the young one brought the heavy wooden vessel to the rim of the well and with strained and shaking arms set it on the ground beside him. Fishing a rag that was no less ragged than the rest of him out of his shirt, the boy bent and soaked it in the cold water. He made no sound as the icy liquid seeped into the cuts on his hands, increasing his pain tenfold.

 

The other's throat constricted in sympathy as this lonely child then brought the wet rag to a deep gash in his forehead, allowing himself for the first time to sob quietly as the sting became too much to bear. How the other longed to wrap his arms around this waif, to offer, in the very least, that iota of comfort to one who had never felt the love and gentleness that could be found in another's touch. If only he could…

 

They both flinched as a new sound ripped through the near-silence. The child looked up in surprise, cuts and bruises temporarily forgotten as the first sound was followed by another. Metal clashed with metal, making that noise that is as beautiful as it is terrifying. The rag, forgotten, fell back into the water of it's own accord and the child stepped forward, every fiber of his being straining to detect the direction that the sounds came from.

 

The other's eyes widened as well, but there was no surprise to be found there. Opening his mouth for the first time he reached out to the child only to find that he had no voice. His feet were suddenly as heavy as leaden weights and he was forced to follow at a much slower pace as the child practically dashed out of his line of sight.

 

What seemed like an eternity later, he came upon the child again. He was pressed against a wall, his body folding onto itself as a shadow fell across it. But even as the darkness befell this broken man-child, he looked into the face of death with a smile. A smile so pure and beautiful it was painful for one to look upon, and the other shrank away from it like a shadow before the sun.

 

"Is that you boy?"

 

Surprised, he looked up from his darkened corner. His thin mouth opened silently and although his throat worked violently to achieve sound, none came.

 

"Don't sit there in the dark staring at me boy. Come out into the light where I can see you."

 

Folding his bare feet under him, he pushed himself up on all fours and crawled forward in a manner not unlike that of a struck puppy. Warily he came as close as he dared, to the very edge of the light where he sat watching the other with curious eyes.

 

"Y-yes Mister?"

 

The other frowned in open annoyance. "Don't call me Mister, boy," he commanded, "Well, have you brought me anything tonight?"

 

Smiling brightly though obviously afraid, the child pushed something toward the figure before him. "I-it's not much," he apologized shakily, "J-just some mochi…"

 

The thing with a man's voice grunted his approval, "It's enough," he growled as he reached for the food. "What's your name boy?"

 

"S-Soujiro desu."

 

"Soujiro eh?" the other grunted as he took another generous mouthful of rice, "I am called Shishio."

 

"H-Hai." The boy replied as he averted his eyes meekly. "Um, Shishio-san?"

 

"I said don't call me Mister."

 

"H-hai," the child repeated even more demurely than before, "Eto, are you a…bad person?"

 

The thing in the corner grinned malevolently for a moment, "Me?" he asked, "The really evil ones around here are the Meji Government."

 

The child raised his head a little, "Oh," he said, "Then that means you're really a good guy, then?"

 

To this the man-thing threw back his head and laughed, revealing a mouth as red as a demon's, full of sharp, cruel-looking teeth that seemed more suited to the flesh of humans than mere rice.

 

Then, as suddenly as he had begun laughing, the figure turned his gaze upon the child again. In that moment his face grew even more serious than it previously was and his bloodshot eyes took on a sharper slant than before as he growled out a response to the innocent question.

 

"There's no one worse than me, boy."

 

In the next second, the blood had flown from the child's face, leaving his already pale skin a ghastly shade of gray. An involuntary noise of fright escaped his throat but he only smiled wider, hoping against hope that it's brightness would spread itself throughout the room, burning away all cause for fear.

 

Praise the gods for small mercies. The smile made short work of the demon, softening his features somewhat into a look of confusion. "Why do you smile like that?" he asked while pointing what must have once been a chin toward the marks that were tattooed across the boy's body. "Any other child would be crying over those and a grown man could have wet himself out of fear just now, but you look at me and smile."

 

A strange expression rose in the boy's blue-gray eyes, one that had no right on the face of one so young. "It wasn't always like that," he said quietly, almost to himself, "I used to cry and get mad whenever they beat me, but I decided to smile one day, and they left me alone. So I'll just keep smiling, even if I'm scared, even if it hurts me, I'll keep smiling..." As he trailed off, he drew his knees closer to his chest and buried his face there, still not forgetting to smile as he did.

 

The other's expression became grim, "That's a strange way to react," he muttered to himself, "Why do they beat you anyway?"

 

The boy raised his eyes a little, "Etto, even though I'm a part of the family, I'm not really their brother…"

 

"You are…?"

 

A sigh of sadness escaped his cracked lips, "They call me a bastard, so that's why I get beaten." he admitted.

 

"Rubbish."

 

"Eh?"

 

"Sou-kun, the circumstances of your birth are irrelevant."

 

His startled gray eyes came to focus on the new being that had in an instant replaced the bandaged demon that had sat in the selfsame corner. His hands dug into the fabric of his blue gi as they shook with an unknown emotion at the sight of her smile. A smile that he was sure that he's never see again, trapped as he was in the recurring nightmare of his mind.

 

But there she was and there she stayed. Her dark hair falling around to frame her perfect, heart-shaped face, her gorgeous blue-green eyes dancing in the light of her smile.

 

His body was older now, but he felt even younger than the child that had been just a moment before as she moved from the wall and came to him. She wrapped both her arms around his frame with all the tenderness of that very first, uninvited touch at the restaurant all those years ago. Yet, there was a new fierceness there as well, a determination that was all her own, like a sense of propriety that was solely directed at him.

 

"It's alright," she crooned, "I'm here now, boy."

 

At the sound of the long unused nickname, Sou pulled himself away slightly to come to face with a great mass of rich, red silk. Haltingly he drew his eyes upward, unwilling to have his mind play any further tricks on his heart.

 

Two rouge-darkened lips came into view, followed by warm pair of slanted brown eyes. She smiled as he looked at her, reaching out to gently stroke a few stray hairs out of his own eyes. Even in death she was beautiful, just as he had remembered and probably always would. Tears threatening to flow, he let himself fall forward into her lap, clinging to her waist as any proper little brother should.

 

"Yumi-neesan," he choked.

 

"Hey don't do that boy," she said gently as she reached out to wipe the tears away, "Tears don't look good on you, you know."

 

"I don't care," came the choked, silk-muffled reply, "I missed you."

 

There was a telling pause before the dead woman spoke again. Her grip on him tightened considerably with her next words. "I missed you too, boy." she said in a suspiciously halting whisper, "But…but you can't stay here."

 

Soujiro raised his eyes to hers again to find that she was holding her right hand next to her face, the ring that she had given him all those years ago glittering on her fourth finger.

 

"This thing never really did suit me," she mused aloud as she brought the hand below her shoulders to examine the ring herself. "It should belong to someone else…someone stronger than I was." Her gorgeous eyes shifted to his with a knowing smile, "You've got to make sure this reaches its rightful owner, boy," she said, "The gods know that she's certainly waited long enough."

 

"Yumi-san?" he whispered in alarm as form became slightly less tangible than before.

 

Yumi graced him with a final, fading smile. "This world is for memories and ghosts," she said even more gently than before, "And you are neither of these, so you don't belong here you see." Her touch whispered along the surface of his skin as her eyes seemed to take on a regretful shimmer.

 

Desperately he clung to her again. Eyes shut tight in the vain hope that his determination alone might allow her to cross over into the land of the living with him.

 

"Goodbye…Soujiro."

 

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"Yumi-san?" he said weakly, forcing his eyes to open.

 

Megumi smiled tenderly, "I'm afraid not Soujiro-kun," she said gently brushing his bangs from his face. "You gave us all quite a scare young man," she gently teased, "You're lucky that you have a doctor who is skilled enough to save you from such a serious bullet wound." She reached for a cup on the table next to her, "Drink." she commanded, helping him to sit up.

 

Soujiro sipped the stuff the onna-sensai offered. It tasted bitter but it helped to soothe the burning sensation in the back of his throat. "Good," she said, obviously pleased with his reaction, "Rest now. There is someone outside who has been waiting for you for quite a while."

 

Megumi left the room in a quiet rustle of fabric. Soujiro watched as the curtain lifted and a smaller figure appeared in the doorway.

 

Kneeling next to the raised bed, Misao caressed Soujiro's face gently. "Welcome back anata." she whispered, kissing the top of his forehead lightly.

 

Soujiro managed a weak smile, "You're safe," he said softly, reaching out to touch her.

 

"Hai, we both are." she answered just as softly.

 

"S-Shinomori-san?" he asked, "Is he alright?"

 

Misao shook her head, smiling, "You always think of others first, just like Himura." she thought.

 

"Hai, thanks to you he survived without a scratch."

 

"Good." he said happily even as his eyelids began to droop once more.

 

Misao kissed him again on the temple, "You are tired anata," she observed, "Go ahead and sleep. I'll be here when you awaken."

 

Even as she made her promise, sleep overtook the young samurai, "Hai…" he whispered before drifting off.

 

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

 

Saitou watched as the young woman appeared in the station's doorway, her features hidden below a sky blue mantle. He frowned disapprovingly as she lifted her face to find his own.

 

"Don't you know the police station is off limits for children and weasels?" he scoffed.

 

Misao's eyes narrowed as she pushed the cloak's hood back. "As you can see for yourself Fujita-san, I am neither of those things," she stated calmly.

 

"Humph. " the wolf sneered, "I see that even weasels can develop some manners over time."

 

Misao sighed, quickly tiring of the irritating man's jests. "You know who I have come to see Fujita-san, surely a refined person such as yourself would not mind escorting a lady to her destination?"

 

Saitou smiled nastily, "Of course not," he said, "Where is she?"

 

Misao swore under her breath as he easily avoided the kunai she threw at him.

 

"Cool it weasel." He said gesturing toward an inner hallway, "It's this way."

 

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

 

Kaede sat on the floor of his cell with his eyes closed. Listening carefully, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching from the outside. Surprisingly, these footsteps came closer to his cell than any of the others ever had.

 

Opening his eyes he started to find Misao standing outside of his cell, her slender body wrapped in a blue cloak. "I've been in here too long, I've begun to see things," he thought shaking the vision out of his head. However, when he opened his eyes, the vision remained where she was, smiling as delicately as a goddess.

 

"Hello Kaede." Misao said quietly.

 

"You're really here." he said disbelievingly, and his tone suddenly grew harsh, "What for?" he asked, "Maybe you're curious to see just how far the mighty have fallen, is that it?" He closed his eyes to her again. "Well this is it. " he said flatly, "This is what rock bottom looks like Misao, now please leave."

 

He waited but there was no sound from her at all, not even a footstep.

 

After a little while he heard her voice again, husky and sweet, like it was all the time that they were together. "I came to say that I understand why you did what you did," she said softly, "and that I forgive you."

 

Kaede's eyes flew open and he searched her face incredulously.

 

"And, " she continued looking into his eyes, "I am sorry for your loss…both, your losses."

 

Kaede's lips pressed together tightly, "Thank you." he whispered.

 

Misao smiled again before making her way back down the hallway, she had barely begun to move before Kaede's voice called out to her.

 

"Misao?"

 

"Yes Kaede?" she said turning to face him again.

 

"I want you to know," he said quietly, "That it was not all a lie. I do care for you Misao…very much."

 

Misao smiled sadly, "As I do you," she whispered, "Goodbye Kaede."

 

 

He listened as her footsteps faded away. Once he was sure that she was gone, he hunched over as the tears he had been holding back for so many years slid down his face.

 

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