| ☆ 50 | I dreamed a dream |
The chorus of cicadas is loud in the warm balmy night, and amidst it, the tinkling of porcelain and glass orchestrates the perfect summer evening.
Misao is running through the Aoiya, ever a bundle of energy-her hair is damp from the bath, her worn clothes washed and clean, and her green eyes are bright with excitement and anticipation. Her footfalls signal her descent upon the stairs, and she looks down to see the pleased faces of those familiar to her-Ochika-san, still with her elegantly waxed hair and luxurious kimono; Omasu-san, her hair in a much more practical bun, kimono in simple cotton. The two women are holding trays of sushi and sashimi, making their way to the courtyard at the back of the Aoiya, but they pause to smile up at her.
“Misao-chan!” Omasu says, laughing as she skids to a stop. “Careful, you might trip!”
“Me? Trip? Never!” Misao crows, puffing her chest out and bracing her hands on her hips, causing the two women to giggle. “Oniwabanshuu onmitsu never trip!”
“Unless another onmitsu trips them,” a deep voice speaks from behind her, and she whirls around, fists at the ready-it’s Kuro, and he’s grinning at her, foot seemingly poised to trip her at the next step. Behind him is Shiro, arms crossed upon his chest, looking approving of the antics. She laughs, spins around before sticking her tongue out at them, eliciting guffaws.
“You ain’t trippin’ me!” With a happy squeal, she launches off.
“My pretty Misao~!”
She almost slams into her surrogate grandfather. Okina’s eyes have their ever-present twinkle, the pink bow upon his white beard perfectly tied, and he puts an arm on her shoulders. “Now, you’re looking as beautiful as ever! Ready for the picnic?”
Misao laughs eagerly, sprinting into his arms. “YOU BET, JIYA!” He hugs her just as tightly, and it’s just like when she was a child.
Letting her down, he smiles at her with pride in his eyes, and she beams back before he turns her towards the courtyard. There, she sees the familiar image of the Kenshin-gumi; Himura is surrounded by Kaoru-san and Megumi-san, the two of them bickering as usual while the former rurouni attempts to placate them. With a huff, Kaoru-san retreats into her food, while Megumi laughs triumphantly, her arm linked around her husband’s-a cordial man with long black hair and the bearing of a samurai, who is now making an attempt to scold her for her mischief but failing as she bats her lashes at him. Sano and Yahiko are crouched beside the grill, watching the fish cook; Genzai-sensei is fanning the flames, while the two little girls-Ayame-chan and Suzume-chan-play behind them.
They all call to her. The little girls rush to her, pulling at her hands, and she giggles and joins them. Sano grins at her, calls her weasel-she, of course, pelts him with a punch for that, knocking him upside the head, to which Yahiko adds fuel to the fire but only gets smacked as well. Kaoru-san scolds Yahiko, immediately on Misao’s side, and the small ninja nods her head approvingly.
Just then, the courtyard is ablaze with the beautiful light of fireworks; Kuro and Shiro are behind the show in one corner of the garden, and Misao gasps with glee as the sky glows with firelight and a myriad of colors.
“Look, Misao-chan!”
She doesn’t know who said it, only turns to look; there, at the foot of the stairs, is her Aoshi-sama. The radiant blaze of fireworks glows in his ebon hair, creates halos in his blue eyes.
His gaze is fixed upon her, and she smiles.
Misao is running through the Aoiya, ever a bundle of energy-her hair is damp from the bath, her worn clothes washed and clean, and her green eyes are bright with excitement and anticipation. Her footfalls signal her descent upon the stairs, and she looks down to see the pleased faces of those familiar to her-Ochika-san, still with her elegantly waxed hair and luxurious kimono; Omasu-san, her hair in a much more practical bun, kimono in simple cotton. The two women are holding trays of sushi and sashimi, making their way to the courtyard at the back of the Aoiya, but they pause to smile up at her.
“Misao-chan!” Omasu says, laughing as she skids to a stop. “Careful, you might trip!”
“Me? Trip? Never!” Misao crows, puffing her chest out and bracing her hands on her hips, causing the two women to giggle. “Oniwabanshuu onmitsu never trip!”
“Unless another onmitsu trips them,” a deep voice speaks from behind her, and she whirls around, fists at the ready-it’s Kuro, and he’s grinning at her, foot seemingly poised to trip her at the next step. Behind him is Shiro, arms crossed upon his chest, looking approving of the antics. She laughs, spins around before sticking her tongue out at them, eliciting guffaws.
“You ain’t trippin’ me!” With a happy squeal, she launches off.
“My pretty Misao~!”
She almost slams into her surrogate grandfather. Okina’s eyes have their ever-present twinkle, the pink bow upon his white beard perfectly tied, and he puts an arm on her shoulders. “Now, you’re looking as beautiful as ever! Ready for the picnic?”
Misao laughs eagerly, sprinting into his arms. “YOU BET, JIYA!” He hugs her just as tightly, and it’s just like when she was a child.
Letting her down, he smiles at her with pride in his eyes, and she beams back before he turns her towards the courtyard. There, she sees the familiar image of the Kenshin-gumi; Himura is surrounded by Kaoru-san and Megumi-san, the two of them bickering as usual while the former rurouni attempts to placate them. With a huff, Kaoru-san retreats into her food, while Megumi laughs triumphantly, her arm linked around her husband’s-a cordial man with long black hair and the bearing of a samurai, who is now making an attempt to scold her for her mischief but failing as she bats her lashes at him. Sano and Yahiko are crouched beside the grill, watching the fish cook; Genzai-sensei is fanning the flames, while the two little girls-Ayame-chan and Suzume-chan-play behind them.
They all call to her. The little girls rush to her, pulling at her hands, and she giggles and joins them. Sano grins at her, calls her weasel-she, of course, pelts him with a punch for that, knocking him upside the head, to which Yahiko adds fuel to the fire but only gets smacked as well. Kaoru-san scolds Yahiko, immediately on Misao’s side, and the small ninja nods her head approvingly.
Just then, the courtyard is ablaze with the beautiful light of fireworks; Kuro and Shiro are behind the show in one corner of the garden, and Misao gasps with glee as the sky glows with firelight and a myriad of colors.
“Look, Misao-chan!”
She doesn’t know who said it, only turns to look; there, at the foot of the stairs, is her Aoshi-sama. The radiant blaze of fireworks glows in his ebon hair, creates halos in his blue eyes.
His gaze is fixed upon her, and she smiles.