Daughter Figure

Part 1 of 8

Revised June 18, 2011 12:39PM

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

The disguise cliché fic.

Misao stared at the kid with a small, but unhappy, smile. He was really quite cute, she thought, never ceasing to be amazed at his little crush on her, his life, his youth, his boundless energy. Once, the terms people had used to describe her, but times were changing as they so inevitably do. Once upon a time she'd have been flattered, charmed by the attention now she was just bothered.

She couldn't help but feel that had been like this once. Young, sweet, and positively convinced she was in love and would be forever. Because love was forever, at least her kind of love was. She had been just like this with her Aoshi-sama.

It gave her an entirely new understanding now, of what he might be feeling toward her for all these years when she'd followed after him. Aoshi had been like her guardian. He took care of her like she looked after this boy for years. She had been brooding over it all week while she tended the kid while his parents were away. Watching neighborhood children and boarding them at the Aoiya was surprisingly good money as long as they stayed out of the restaurant. The family didn't seem to mind the extra company at dinner and they could use all the help they could get there sometimes.

Her mind, however, wasn't on dinner. It was on Aoshi-sama. Again. Rehashing reasons why her quest to make him love her had failed and she thought, perhaps, she understood now. It wasn't possible to touch something that wasn't there. To attain something that couldn't exist...

It was depressing. She felt pale and nauseated and… well, she felt like an adult. Feeling like an adult, she quickly determined, sucked, but there was absolutely no way around it. So, ever since yesterday she'd been preparing herself for what she could only see as the inevitable. She'd been slowly loosening the reins on her hopes for Aoshi, preparing to release them completely. If she didn't… if she kept up, her clinginess might just drive him away again. Home wasn't supposed to be what she was making it for him. She would have to stop.

She had no choice.

She would have to return being what she'd always been to him. The only thing she'd ever be able to be - his daughter figure. The only thing, really, he'd ever let her be… She hung her head sadly. Maybe, to prove this point, she could try to find someone for him, a little matchmaking scheme like her Jiya would do. Try to find someone else that could make her beloved happy. It would only make her feel sicker inside, but maybe, once she fully accepted it, maybe they could actually be amicable friends one day. His stony silences were, frankly, tiring. He was wearing her down not the other way around.

She would give him up; she'd already determined it. She wasn't indecisive, her mind was made up. That was the lie she'd live from this point forward starting tomorrow. No one would have to know but her that it was a dirty ugly lie that she was going to force like the truth...

No one but her would live in this private hell. She wouldn't accept their pity or sympathy. She was an Oniwabanshuu ninja, she could handle this. Emotions... Emotions were nothing. She wasn't weak. Everything could be conquered. Everything got easier with practice.

She picked her head up and followed after young Takeo as he trotted along. He went home tomorrow with his mother... and then... then she'd start building her fantasy world. The trap for her misery and true thoughts so that she could hopefully release Aoshi-sama and maybe one day accept a world where he was just Shinomori Aoshi.

The question was— how to do that?

Misao yawned as she sat up in her futon, noting the high placement of the sun. It was late morning, much later than she usually rose. By now she had usually served Aoshi his tea in the Temple. She hadn't intended to jilt him of his mid-morning tea, on the contrary, she'd been up late, agonizing over her, well, her plan of action. The fact that she'd been awake when the sun starting lighting the sky hadn't been a good indicator of how her day was going to go.

What was the best way of going about this? How did you show someone you just wanted to ... to be friends? She hung her head. It was too early in her morning for this much angst.

She pulled herself out of bed. There was so much she needed to do today. She promised Omasu she'd go to town for some kitchen supplies. There was also a message that needed sent, a package to be delivered to the train station for shipping, dropping a note off at the shop downtown for Okon and then there was Aoshi-sama's tea.

She wanted so direly not to go, but... If she didn't go... what if he became worried? She might want to prove to him that she wasn't holding out any hopes of passionate love but she didn't want to arouse any undue suspicion. It needed to be gradual to be perceived as natural.

She pulled on her clothes and stood. She needed to get going, she could agonize about it later. The downstairs living quarters were empty. Even Jiya would be out front with the customers trying to flirt with young girls. Misao had thought once that he might marry but that looked like it would never happen.

She sighed, straightening her clothes and gathering her strength.

Today was the day. She stepped out and took a deep breath. She could do this.

Aoshi was in a state of meditation when he heard the footsteps. It was not Misao, of that he was certain. She had a very certain step, quick and light that, as it came closer to him always slowed with deliberation. The footsteps approaching him had been steady and confident.

"Good morning, Aoshi-sama. I brought your tea for you."

He lifted his head, eyes flickering open to find Okon had sat the tray down and was kneeling beside it.

"Where is Misao?" he asked, voice deadpan and even.

"I think she's still sleeping. She spent the past week caring for Takeo while his parents were away. She wouldn't leave his side for a moment, and his crush on her is really so cute."

Takeo? Who was Takeo, he wondered. He thought as Okon prepared his tea, trying to figure out who that was. The name was completely unfamiliar to him.

"Who is Takeo?" Asking was the easiest route to the answer, and so he did.

"The little boy that's been hanging around the Aoiya all week, you haven't noticed him?" her surprise surprised him. When he said nothing, she continued.

"He's the son of a friend of Misao's. They had to go out of town and Misao agreed to keep him while they were gone. Actually, he's just one of several kids that Misao looks over - she knows an entire troop of kids in town." Standing, Okon forced a smile. "Well, I need to get back. Misao said she was going to town for us today."

Aoshi merely nodded and Okon gratefully escaped the icy gaze of her former Okashira. This many years home and he still couldn't hold a fluent conversation with any of them?

Pathetic.

Misao didn't want to help in the kitchen, she couldn't cook anyway. Didn't enjoy it at least, she could handle the task well enough. She didn't want to work in the dining room either, so... what did she want to do? She couldn't sit around brooding about how to put her 'just friends' plan into action.

At least, she hadn't. She could always, as she thought earlier, go the way of the matchmaker. What better way to show him she'd moved on than to push some other woman into those beautiful arms of his?

She was excited for all of half a minute before she determined she couldn't bear the torture and let it go. Wouldn't it just be disgusting to see another woman on his arm? In his life? She could always leave the Aoiya. Not forever. She loved it too much to abandon the place, just for a little while. Give Aoshi his breathing room; let him know she wasn't going to pester him anymore. But then he might do something stupid and insulting by insisting she not travel by herself because she was too young. Or because she was a girl.

Annoyed, with him or herself, she decided she wasn't going to take him tea either. He was more than capable of gathering it himself. He could make the trip to the Aoiya his tea pilgrimage. She nodded.

It sounded good enough.

Thusly determined, she put her plan into action.

Aoshi stared into the cold tea cup, staring into the light colored liquid. He didn't enjoy the tea nearly so much as he enjoyed the female who brought it to him. He could very well go everyday without the tea. Without Misao it all seemed rather mundane and... Dare he say, pointless? Misao was, in truth, his most companiable human interaction. Without her there was… what? Stilted silences with the others?

He stood, grabbing the tray fully prepared to head out of the place that had once been sanctuary. It had been nearly two hours since Okon had brought the tea, and he just couldn't sit there with that ominous china set beside him without wondering where Misao was.

At the Aoiya, he dropped off his try in the kitchens. The men cooking nodded in his direction but no one said anything directly to him. No one commented on his presence or his departure until he was safely out of earshot. He kept on, passing out the narrow corridor into the back room expecting she might possibly be there. Unless she was out for Okon still?

But no.

He found her in Okina's sitting room. She sat, elbows propped up on the low table, brows drawn down in displeasure and a thin line across her lips. She was staring into a bunch of flowers thoughtfully.

Misao was unhappy.

He stepped inside the room, his movement catching her eye. The widening of her eyes and the drop of her jaw belayed her shock at seeing him.

"Aoshi-sama!" she declared. "What are you doing here this time of day?"

It was almost an accusatory tone, he noted. Was he now not allowed inside during business hours?

"I didn't want to stay in the temple today," he replied, waiting for her reaction.

"Oh."

That hadn't been expected. What did that mean?

"Um..." She shifted. "Huh."

She looked away.

Had he ever caught Misao in a moment of speechlessness? Was she ill? Had he interrupted something private? What was wrong with her? This was beyond unusual. Perhaps he ought to apologize to her.

"Misao!" Omasu swept in the door right past Aoshi waving a slip of paper. "Are you ready to go? We finally have the list for the party ready. Don't forget to buy your kimono while you're there, you promised me last night!" She scolded as though she expected Misao to protest.

"I know, I wouldn't have promised if I planned to change my mind," Misao pouted, dragging herself to her feet. "We can play dress up but there's no way you're doing that ugly thing to my hair that you do to yours."

Omasu's initial answering smile wavered for a moment. "I'm glad. No fuss for once, that has to be good, right?" she glanced at Aoshi who seemed disinclined to comment.

Misao glanced at her quizzically, but the older woman merely turned and walked back out.

"Would you like to go to town, Aoshi-sama?" she asked, approaching him with the list clutched in her hand. Stopping beside him he was reminded, once again, how tiny she was.

He paused, meeting her eyes. What was going on with her? She seemed so... out of sorts.

She frowned. "Well, you don't have to go." Her frown vanished as a laugh emerged. "Just thought I'd ask before I rudely walked out on you, I certainly don't mind going alone. I like Kyoto town, I think it's very refreshing."

She turned, intending to go, when he stepped up beside her, accompanying her out. He thought he might've seen her shoulders tense, but he couldn't be certain.

They walked toward town in silence. Aoshi observed Misao carefully. There was something different about her today. What was it? Was he imagining things? She certainly seemed quieter.

No doubt about it, she was quieter.

Misao had turned into the kind of young woman who filled every moment of silence with chatter. Or, she had been. Now he was concerned there was something wrong as she wasn't given to having spells of silence. Or, he didn't think so.

"They're having a party?" the words had practically been dragged out of him. If she wasn't going to tell him, he would have to ask.

She nodded readily, her eyes steadily ahead of her. "Jiya's idea to draw customers. They were worried about not having enough servers so I promised I would help out, wear the kimono, smile, and all the pleasantness that goes with customer interaction. I've wanted to buy one lately anyway they had some very pretty patterns last week. Even though it does look uncomfortable, I've decided it probably isn't that bad."

She smiled, looking ahead.

He followed her along to each stand where she chattered amicably with all the merchants. In between, she also spoke to him though; he was certain, less than her normal amount. She was explaining to the kimono dealer that she didn't want to sew her own and that her two cousins at home were pestering her about dressing like a lady. It was more than she'd bothered telling him about it, that's for sure. They spent the next fifteen minutes discussing the appropriate pattern for the season and the occasion. And in the end, she didn't buy anything from him, so they kept looking.

Normally, Omasu and Okon didn't quibble about her clothing, they had told her she was old enough to make her own decisions about it. That had surprised her quite a bit. They had also told her that they hoped she would wear something "age appropriate" to the party tonight, but they needn't have bothered with the guilt-trip. Misao had already decided to wear a kimono all on her own. It was the hallmark of a lady and she was trying to be a lady. Or, at least be a little more mature.

She picked up Okon's supplies, handing them absently off to Aoshi-sama to carry. He didn't seem to mind. He didn't complain so as far as she was concerned, he might as well be useful and carry her stuff.

As they were headed back, she'd almost forgotten about the kimono, having caught a woman at the produce stand checking out Aoshi. It had been discrete and she had hid her face daintily behind a fan. The kimono had been prettier than the one she'd bought she noticed and that she was also older than her. Then she started wondering if the woman was pretty enough for Aoshi-sama and picking up her own kimono was suddenly the last thing on her mind. What kind of woman did he like anyway?

She'd been a smidgen away from elbowing him and discreetly motioning toward her and making some comment about it, but thought she'd look funny doing it. There was nothing gradual or unsuspicious about a move like that. She might as well smack him with a shovel. That or she was picking up Jiya's bad habits and that was the last thing she wanted, so she'd let it go, but it hadn't left her mind yet.

"Your kimono," Aoshi reminded her.

She blinked and stopped. "Oh... Right, almost forgot, Omasu said there's a kimono shop somewhere close to here, but she said it was small." She peered around, searching for the merchant. They'd promised her securing a new kimono would be easy and so far it had been.

"There," Aoshi stated, but Misao, being much shorter, could not spot the vendor over the crowds. There was a tiny black and white sign in front.

He said nothing more, wordlessly leading her through the crowd toward the store. Misao ducked past the noren curtains painted with spring flowers. Inside, a wash of color was everywhere and she wanted to groan. So many patterns… so many colors… too many.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"She needs a kimono," he stated plainly.

Misao stepped out from behind him, smiling lightly.

The woman nodded and led her further inside. Her quick lesson from the other vendor quickly evolved into something else. Misao listened and seemed to be intent upon choosing something appropriate. They two women drifted from table to table and the two men mostly watched in silence.

Just as she was about give up, close her eyes and point to something, she spotted a triangle of cloth in the corner. She reached for it, staring at the rich purple. Why did she like purple so much?

Behind her, the men were still standing in silence. They hadn't said a word to one another, she thought, but Aoshi-sama had never been a conversationalist. "She is a very pretty girl."

"Aa."

Misao rolled her eyes with her back safely turned to Aoshi-sama. What did she really expect him to say? That he thought she was an ugly monkey or something?

Misao glanced back to see a small smile on the man's lips and Aoshi staring at him without comment.

Misao turned back to the woman. "Do you have anything in this color?"

The woman looked down at the obi in question and stared a moment, her brow coming down in contemplation. The pattern was not suitable as it was winter themed. Omasu would kill her.

"I believe so, let me look," she replied. Behind her towered a tansu chest and the woman began to search through it vigorously. "Ah! This?"

She pulled out a folded garment allowing Misao to examine the print carefully, slowly unfolding it to show the scene.

Misao's eyes lit as she stared at the cloth. Black and purple and white, it was gorgeous. Normally she didn't like black, as it was ultra formal but was really lovely. It also didn't look like it would get her yelled at. If she had to dress up, she might as well wear something that made her feel halfway pretty, right?

"What do you think, Aoshi-sama? Pretty, huh?"

She glanced back to see him nod slightly and she barely refrained from rolling her eyes again. Well, that was enthusiasm, she thought. She didn't need his approval anyway.

"I'll take it."

"It will look lovely on you. Come, let me help you with your accessories..."

She took Misao by the elbow, the kimono in the other hand leading her to the other side of the shop.

Aoshi merely watched.

When they were ready to go, she toted along beside him back to the Aoiya, her mind preoccupied again, her arms full of packages.

The incident at the produce stand, with the woman, wouldn't be an isolated event. It would happen again and again until someone caught his eye.

Not only that, it brought her face to face with a fact she'd been completely overlooking. During Aoshi's travel he'd probably been ogled by hordes of women. He probably had sex with some of them, too.

She almost hung her head in disappointment, but she knew he was watching her. He'd been watching her the whole time. She could practically feel it.

Damn, why had she invited him along?

Beta read by Kettering, edited by Menolly.