A Rurouni Kenshin Fanfiction
Rating : T
Pairing : slight AoshiXMisao
Genre : Angst (characters’ death )
Characters : Makimachi Misao, Shinomori Aoshi
Death is the ultimate salvation for two tormented souls.
(Took place during Kyoto Arc, after Aoshi’s battle with Ookina.)
There is no greater pain the death of a loved one. So she had thought.
It was utterly wrong.
If there is a greater pain than the death of a loved one then it is the death caused by the hands of another loved one.
In one day, Makimachi Misao had experienced both.
That fateful afternoon, when she saw the man she loved walk out of that bamboo house, his trench coat tainted with blood, her Jiya’s blood, her own blood ran cold.
As he slowly strode past her, he did not even look at her face. But she did. No matter how painful it was, she had to look at his blood-smeared face. Perhaps, she tried to find even a slightest hint of guilt, of regret in those icy blue eyes. Perhaps, she tried to grasp even a slightest chance to forgive him, forgive his unforgivable crime.
His eyes, colder than ever, told her none of those she so desperately tried to look for. His eyes, a darkened shade of blue, no longer possessed the brilliance of light she so wholeheartedly admired.
There was nothing left in those eyes but a deep, black void born from his insanity.
The moment she looked into them, she immediately realized his sin was beyond redemption.
Even when Jiya’s torn body was carried out, she did not cry. Even in Jiya’s funeral, she did not cry. Even when the sky was crying its heart out for her beloved Jiya, soaking her from head to toe with its frigid tears, she was sure she did not shed a drop of tear. Her tears had run dry when she claimed the Okashira position and declared Aoshi’s execution.
Her heart, frozen in time, was harder then steel.
Her love was genuine and innocent, a love shined brightly with trust and admiration. Her grudge, so real and scorching, a hatred burnt madly with agony and despair.
She had made up her mind.
Himura said there was still hope to save Aoshi, to return him to the person he had once been. No matter how great of a crime Aoshi had committed, there was always hope for redemption, just like how the legendary Hitokiri Battousai had turned into the peace loving Rurouni today. As much as she respected and trusted Himura, she doubted those words from the bottom of her heart.
Himura was being too optimistic. There was no way for Aoshi to turn back. The Aoshi she knew had perished the moment his kodachi had sunk into Jiya’s heart.
Even if Himura was to bring him back, that would be just an empty vessel, the pitiful remnants of his old self. He who had dyed his hand in the crimson of blood would probably spend the rest of his time engulfed in the depth of his own guilt. That was an end never would Misao wish for the man of her devotion.
Truth carved mercilessly into her bleeding heart. Still, at hearing Himura’s words, tears streamed down from her parched sockets like summer rain.
The moon hung highly in the sky when they came back from Shishio’s headquarter, battered, wounded.
She welcomed him with open arms and a serene smile. Her eyes, free of love, passion, hatred or despair, were calmer than ever.
Those eyes did not spoke of forgiveness, they spoke of salvation.
As soon as he looked into those eyes, his lips curled up into a faint smile.
In those eyes, he had found it, the answer for his betrayal.
The sharp blade of katana under the moonlight shone brighter than the moon itself; red liquid dripping from its edge like crimson flowers.
Her arms snaked around his broad, scarred chest; his arms tightened around her slim waist. This way, no one or nothing could come in between them. This way, they would truly be inseparable, even after death.
Oh how she wished to bury herself in his warm embrace.
As they fell to the ground, they both let out their most sincere smile on their lips.
The katana she had especially prepared for this day pierced through their bodies. This was Misao’s answer and Aoshi had tranquilly accepted it.
Death was her ultimate answer.
With death, she freed him from being constantly tormented by the guilt of murdering his own mentor, his father.
With death, she also freed herself from suffering the unbearable agony of murdering her own mentor, her brother, her love.
As they departed from this war-torn world, they found their salvation.
- Note : Is is the third or the fourth fic of mine involves character’s death ? Seriously, what gave me the inspiration to write these fics ?