Innocence

An alternate universe Rurouni Kenshin fanfic.

Chapter Six-

"Something Sweet"

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"Tell me you feel just like I do."

-Better Than Ezra-

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"This one?"

"No."

"How about this?"

"No way."

"This one?"

"Sure, if you're in a convent ."

Misao snorted in frustration and tossed the t-shirt she was holding onto her bed before turning on her critic with a frustrated glare. "Yuki!" she hollered, "I'm nervous enough as it is so just agree with me on something before I go nuts!"

Unruffled by her friends admonition, Yuki simply reached out to straighten Misao's black lace bra with a look of patience to rival Buddha himself. "Maa, maa…" she soothingly reassured her, "Don't you want to look nice for Mr. Personal Savior-Man?"

Misao instantly felt the temperature in her cheeks rise, "His name is Soujiro Seta for your information, Miss Priss." she corrected.

"Soujiro, huh?" Yuki repeated as she walked over to the wardrobe herself, "That's cool, makes calling out his name that much easier y'know? It kinda blends in like, Soujir-Oh! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

That earned her a direct hit to the face with Misao's pillow. Not that she cared. She was too busy cracking up at the look on her friend's face to be concerned with the possibility of a concussion.

Misao on the other hand, was absolutely mortified…and how.

"Hey, none of that, " Yuki commanded, pulling Misao's hands away from her face and depositing a black baby tee into them. "You had better hurry up before lover boy gets bored and decides that you stood him up."

Curious, Misao glanced down at her watch. "Oh shit!" she cried, "I'm gonna be late!" Hastily she pulled the shirt onto her shoulders and grabbed her purse off of her dressing-table before making a bee-line for the door.

Yuki smiled as she saw her off. "Ganbatte Misao," she said to herself, "Let that sucker know what he's been missing!"

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Yumi proved that melodrama ran in the family when she heard that "mystery-girl" had called her brother back for a coffee-date. Soujiro himself was made eternally grateful for the fact that he had been excited enough to drive all the way downtown to Yumi's apartment building i.e. a relatively non-public place.

For overreact she did.

"Hallelujah!" she'd sang, "Sou has finally found himself a real woman. Praise God Almighty, he's free at last!"

Soujiro opted to quietly sweat drop in the corner while his older sister carried on for the better part of fifteen minutes.

Nor was he the least bit surprised when she showed up at his office with a zippered dress-bag in hand exactly an hour before the said date was to occur. Without the least bit of ceremony, she promptly booted out the one unfortunate board-member that had chosen to bother her little brother at such an inopportune time.

"And stay out, you fashion-victim!" she called out behind the poor man before slamming the door shut.

Embarrassed as he was by her methods, Soujiro was again grateful for his sister's presence. Trust those cooperate numb-nuts to try and rope him into a three-hour meeting when he finally had won his chance with the woman of his dreams. Yumi's assertiveness had once again saved him from being walked all over…again.

Turning from the closed door, Yumi faced her brother with a predatory look that almost made him rethink his gratitude. "Tsk, tsk," she clicked in dismay, "You weren't going to meet Ms. Wonderful in that, were you?"

Soujiro looked down on his suit in confusion, "What's wrong with this?" he asked, "At least it isn't as expensive as the others. Besides, I told her I was coming straight from work and these are work-clothes!"

Yumi looked him over with a gaze that was equal parts patience and affection, "Yeah, if you're a pimp," she said flatly, "I warned you before about chasing this one away with too much bling. Do you want to have her staring at your expensive suit all afternoon, wondering how in the hell you got it? Or do you want to have a good time?"

Soujiro promptly hung his head, "I want to have a good time," he mumbled.

"Then come here and let Yumi do her magic." She said, waving the bag she'd brought with her.

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Soujiro had to admit, his sister did have the magic touch. Such was evident in the flirtatious manner the waitress had approached him with the premature offer of a cappuccino and the approving glances of most of the female (and some of the male) customers in the shop. Self-consciously, he bit the corner of his bottom lip as he fiddled with the sleeve of the white polo his sister had bought him. Continuously looking up when the bell above the coffee-shop's door jingled in announcement of every new customer that came in.

Soon deciding that he was making himself a nervous wreck, he turned his attention to the window facing the street outside instead. Just in time to see Misao's figure wrapped up in jeans and boots and jacket making her way across the street. Halfway across an impatient driver earned himself a sharp rap on the hood and a string of what must have been the most effective combination of expletives he'd ever heard. Turning away from the greatly humbled man, she made it all the way across, her braid swinging left and right like an angered cat's tail.

In that anger, she had momentarily forgotten her reason for coming to the shop at all. A reason that rode back into her conscious mind on a wave of nausea as the smell of coffee and pastries pulled her back into a reality that she was having serious second thoughts about. In the few seconds it took for the bell above her head to stop ringing, her mind chased itself in circles around her decision. Unconsciously, she swallowed, sheer fear of he unknown causing her foot to move just a fraction of an inch backward before a raised arm caught her attention.

Soujiro waved nervously from his booth, simultaneously hoping that she had seen him and that he didn't look half the idiot he currently felt. Almost imperceptibly, her eyes slid towards him, as beautiful as emeralds against her olive complexion. Only when her body turned to follow the path they had set, did he realize that he'd stopped breathing the moment she'd walked in.

Misao could feel her eyes widen slightly as her date came into view. She had remembered that he was good-looking, but her half-lit memory from the bar hadn't prepared her for what a delightful piece of eye-candy she had almost turned down. Careful to keep her jaw under control, she gave him a close-lipped, but appreciative smile as she approached his seat.

Instinctively, Soujiro was on his feet just as she made it to their booth. Misao looked puzzled for a moment until his hands touched her shoulders.

"Please," he said, "Let me."

Surprised, but flattered, Misao allowed him to slip her coat off and fold it once before setting it neatly on the seat beside her.

She paused for a moment before sliding into her seat. It was not the fact that he had taken her coat as a sign of good manners. It was the fact that he's done it properly. Her eyes fell on the folds of her jacket; no doubt that when the heat of the toasty little shop had dried up all the melted snow, it would be left with nary a wayward crease. Her eyes flicked back up to his face with what should have been a searching gaze, but it soon melted into a moderate blush when she realized that his surprisingly warm, gray eyes were fixed on her own with an expression of pure, unbridled awe.

After a moment of this, he visibly shook himself, seemingly embarrassed at his blatant show of admiration. "Forgive me," he said shyly, "It's just that you're even more beautiful than I remembered."

Ditto. "It's okay," she said as flippantly as she could, "I'm not offended."

Nope. Not in the least.

He smiled then, one that matched his eyes for warmth. "Good," he said, "I'm glad."

Without wanting it to, a smile of her own broke the surface to echo his own. "So Soujiro," she said, her lips and tongue deliberately rolling over the word, "I never did properly thank you for saving me the trouble of starting a brawl the other night. You really did me a favor there."

Soujiro shrugged and Misao could not help but think that it had looked boyishly adorable when he did. "You don't need to thank me," he replied, "I just have a problem with bullies in general, it doesn't matter what's the circumstance. It just happens to be one of the things I really hate."

An eyebrow rose high above its pool of jade, "Do you really hate a lot of things?" she casually asked.

Soujiro smiled again, recognizing the game, "Not really," he replied.

"Oh really?"

"Really."

Misao's smile deepened, she may not have been looking for a new father for Keiko just yet, but this Soujiro just might make an entertaining friend. Although that fell somewhat short of her perverse girlfriend's hopes, it would have to do.

Soon the waitress came and took their order, both were only mildly surprised when they had both called for the same coffee, sugar, cream combination as one person. They'd giggled over that for a while before putting the order through and settling more comfortably into their seats to enjoy the atmosphere.

"So why a singer?" he asked, popping a mini-croissant into his mouth.

Misao chewed thoughtfully for a moment, "Well," she finally said, "A friend got me in contact with the owner of the club and she liked me. I needed the money myself so I thought, why not?"

"Do you like it?"

"It has its moments," she replied with a smile, "What about you?"

Soujiro twitched imperceptibly, "Me?"

"Yeah, what do you do to pay the bills?"

"Well," he faltered, "I work in my family's business." He brought his coffee to his lips, praying that she was satisfied with his half-truth answer.

"Really?" she asked, " Are you the manager or something?"

If you only knew. "I'm in charge of general operations, yes."

Misao sighed and leaned back in her chair, "So you're one of the lucky ones who had the guesswork taken out for them, huh?"

His expression darkened slightly although he carefully kept the smile in place, "Lucky isn't a word I'd really use in that situation."

Misao's eyes softened with empathy, "But at least you have your parents and siblings to help out, right?"

His smile grew wistful, "My Mom was never really an active member of the company to begin with, and my sister decided that she didn't want to be tied down to something that she didn't love, so she left."

The answer lingered in the distance like a silhouette in twilight, but she asked the question anyway, "And your dad?"

"Cancer, three years ago." he replied.

She pursed her lips and squinted out the window, "I'm sorry," she said, mentally kicking herself for her curiosity.

 

After a silence he spoke again, "What about you?" he asked brightening up again.

"Hn?"

"What about your family?"

It was now her turn to put on the unreadable smile, "I'm an orphan," she answered simply, "I grew up in the system."

The world around them seemed to slow down as the information sank in. It seemed impossible that someone so wonderful didn't have anyone at all. As crazy as his sister and mother could be, at least they were still there. It just didn't seem fair.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She looked directly into his eyes and smiled in a way that belied a quiet strength that lingered below its surface. "I'm not." she replied.

The statement was sheathed, but the message was clear. "No sympathy please."

I respect that. "You're a very interesting woman, Misao."

"Aw shucks," she joked, "You're not such a dud yourself, either."

They smiled at each other again, the same thought passing through their heads as they did.

"Definitely worth a second date."

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