Two Sides of a Sword: Reliving the Past

~Reliving the Past~

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Oh, my...it's been a while. You see, writer's block kind of took over my senses on this fic. Well...finally, I'm out of it!! ^_^

Misao stretched her arms up high, feeling a bit more refreshed than what she was before Aoshi had woken up. Her Aoshi-sama was awake, although a bit sore at the least, and she was glad. Evening was soon coming to an end, so Misao wasn't able to visit Aoshi, fearing that he would not want company at the moment.

"Ah, it's so nice to feel fresh air again!" she exclaimed as she and Jun were stepping into the garden.

Jun giggled at her statement. "You don't like staying in one place, do you?"

"Ie! Just looking out the window makes me want to go out and feel the sun on my face," Misao replied.

In actuality, Misao was covering up her depression from Ikumi's hidden ordeals with a false cheerfulness that she had always used whenever she was down. She wondered how Jun was able to live with such a burden of guilt. As her mind pondered, she began to understand the burdens that Aoshi was hiding deep inside that shell of his and was more determined than ever to free him of them.

Misao and Jun were completely unaware of Akira's presence in the shadows. He chuckled inwardly to himself. So, so, close in his reach and they did not know what was among them. It would be his chance to redeem himself to his okashira, even though it was not his goal. Killing the woman that Shinomori Aoshi protected would surely crumple the former Oniwanbanshuu okashira's cold exterior. Just finding the right moment was all she needed.

<Aoshi's room>

"Wow, it's getting late," Ikumi commented as she looked outside the window. "I guess I was talking longer than I thought I would."

Aoshi did not respond. He was still thinking about what his sister had said about Misao. Hiding his true feelings from her? No, he wasn't hiding them.

It was well-known among the ranks of the Oniwanbanshuu that Misao, since she was first introduced to Aoshi, loved Aoshi dearly. It was first thought to be a child crush, a phase. However, after Aoshi had left, the crush, the phase, never went away. It grew.

Aoshi mainly ignored the way how'd she pay special attention to him, as if trying to read his indiscernible mind. He ignored how she would treat his physical wounds ever so gently like how a wife would with her husband. He ignored everything that she would do to pry him open, to refresh the happiness that he lost when his parents died soon after Ikumi's birth.

He treated Misao like his little sister, even more so when Ikumi was abducted over more than twelve years ago. But he had to ask himself: was she still that same little sister to him?

Soft footsteps snapped him out of thought.

"Matte, Ikumi," he finally said. She had paused, standing between the doorway. Aoshi looked at his sister in the eye. "You never explained about Setsuko-chan's father. It wasn't Fei, was it?"

The sadness in her eyes were so visible, but she smiled anyway. "Ie, Ryu is her father." She looked away from her brother. "He...died before he even knew I was carrying his child two years ago, before I even knew."

Without giving her brother another word, Ikumi left the room.

"Rokou-sama," a voice addressed behind him.

Rokou finished completing his daily "exercise", slicing the last trunk in half. He sheathed back his kodaichi before taking a glance at the man behind him.

"What is it, Toraki?" he asked.

Toraki was a man in his mid-twenties. Unlike most of his men, Toraki was not afraid of revealing his face in public. He was rather handsome, one that made even the most strong-willed of women swoon to the floor. However, perfection was mauled with one long, deep scar that began from the top of his right eyebrow all the way down to the corner of his lip. A string of black bangs covered his eyes which were barely peeking out and shown a bright green in the darkness.

Although fairly new to the Azma clan, having joined a year earlier, Toraki proved to be a man worthy of trust and skill. Rokou quickly put the man as one of his most trusted men despite much disapproval from the elder members of the clan. True, Toraki was very new, but he did not need to go through the rigorous training that most rookie ninjas had to go through because Toraki had passed them long before in a ninja clan that no longer exists after the Bakumatsu. This also made the elder members furious. Why accept a man who no longer has pride for his own deceased?

"Akira has failed," Toraki answered. "My men have told me that he has been captured by the Oniwanbanshuu."

"Hmph," Rokou huffed as he whipped out his kodaichi again to slice the top half of the trunk that was falling to the ground. It feel into two chunks of wood. "Make sure that he doesn't release any information, Toraki."

Usually, one would be pleased to be even given an order personally by their okashira, but Toraki showed no sign of joy. He simply bowed in respect.

"As you wish, Rokou-sama."

It had just barely caught her eye. A shadow that could have easily been the wind, or a tree, but it wasn't.

"Abunai!" Jun shouted, shoving Misao out of the way as Akira passed through. She had spotted him just in time or else she and Misao would not be in the living world anymore.

Akira managed to reduce his speed, but he wasn't able to stop himself from plowing into a wall, alerting the other members of the household.

"Che," he muttered to himself, but it was too late to stop his actions now. He had a mission to accomplish.

Misao was trying to regain her composure after the harsh fall when she saw the tip of a blade coming straight for her. She managed to roll over to avoid the blow, but in doing so caused dust to fly in her eyes. Ruining her outfit for the day, Misao stood up, blind, and tried to use her exceptional hearing to sense her enemy.

Jun had gotten up as soon as the first strike ended. She tried to attack whoever was their attacker, but it was hard to see though the dust that had accumulated after the first strike. She, too, used her sharp senses to figure out where Akira was.

Ikumi and the other members of the Oniwanbanshuu had just entered in the area. Even Aoshi managed to get out of his room to see what was going on, his two kodaichi on hand.

"Misao?" Okon called out in the dust cloud.

Misao, inside the cloud, turned at the direction of the voice, letting Akira have the opportunity to strike. The cloud of dust was a vitality to his special technique, giving him the nickname of "Shadow" among the Azma clan. The blade of accomplishment was almost there for him when...a searing pain stung through his body. Misao had turned around, her eyes wide with shock. Akira looked down at himself, noticing a bloody end of a katana shining through his chest. The katana was covered in blood, his blood. He turned around to find his assailant: Toraki. But instead of Toraki, another face replaced his; one of a man who was supposed to be dead two years ago. Akira's eyes widened.

"Trai..."

But before he could finish his words, the feeling of the blade coming out of his chest overwhelmed him and Akira fell to the ground, lifeless. In the distance, Ikumi took one good look at their "rescuer" and gasped.

"Ryu?"