A one-shot fan fiction from Aoshi’s point of view
The room was dark and it smelled of medicine and pending death. The only source of light was a few dim candles. The doctors had done all they could. It was now left up to Misao’s inner strength. I hoped that she had enough strength left. If only I had noticed the man behind her.
My blades were moving at the speed of light, slicing through everyone in my path. My concentration was on the last man standing, or so I thought. It was then I heard Misao scream.
The man had plunged his short sword through her lower back. Her innocent blood began to pool. I sliced through the last men quickly. I ran to her side and picked her up as gently as possible. In my mind I figured that the Aoiya was closer than any of the clinics. I ran as fast as I could, my arms holding Misao securely. My fingers were sticky with lifeblood. I could feel her young life ebbing away, her soul leaving her.
I had made it to the Aoiya in record time. The doctors arrived almost as soon as we did. I suppose that the others had been informed of their Leader carrying the broken body of a girl through the streets of Kyoto. News travels fast. The doctors put healing salves on her wound, bandaged her, and said that the rest was left to Misao and us. They had tended to my mediocre wounds, while I was ushering them away.
Misao had been put in her room. I had been the one to light the few candles. I also had incense burning. I was praying for her soul to stay with us, here on earth. I don’t know what I would do without her by my side.
Even if I never told her how I felt, it still was nice to know that she cared. Even if I acted cold and indifferent, I still cared for her in return. I just never knew how deep my feelings ran. I wasn’t sure; until I saw the blade pierce her skin and her crimson life-liquid pour out from her. My mind was set on vengeance. I had to avenge her.
After I finished killing, I noticed that she was still alive. My heart, mind, and
soul were relived. I then saw that her breath came in short liquid bursts. Blood was oozing out the corner of her mouth. Her form was racked with short bursts of pain and consciousness.
I should have told her how I felt, before. I should have told her when her life wasn’t slipping away. I should have just told her. Now I will never get the chance to tell her. She will die thinking I cared nothing for her. She will die with the wrong mindset. She will die. And I won’t know what to do with myself.
Without her, my whole world would fall apart and I would have no reason to live. I would never try to find another, and my life would be a waste. I wouldn’t be able to do a thing with myself besides mourn her loss.
I rested my arms on her bed, my form leaning over her. Her brow was damp, her face flushed. Her fever was raging still. Her eyes flicked under her eyelids, indicating dreams. I could only hope that they were pleasant one, not ones that were too violent and demented. Most fever-induced illusions were twisted. I reached over to the bowl of cool water and dipped the washcloth in. I wrung it out and wiped her pale, pained face. I then laid the soft cloth on her forehead.
Watching her, my sadness began to overwhelm me. I fell into a fitful sleep. I dreamt of Misao. I saw her standing, far away from me. I ran to her, and as I approached, demonic creatures clawed at her. She was pulled further and further away, until she no longer existed.
I bolted upright, my breath labored. I checked on Misao, making sure that she hadn’t slipped out of my grasp while I slept. She was still living.
I began to think of all the things that I had never told her, the things I would probably never be able to say. My vision blurred as tears filled my sadness-choked eyes. I looked at her face and a single tear fell onto her cheek.
I closed my eyes and leaned back so I no longer towered over her. I began to cry softly, tears falling down my cheeks. I didn’t want to lose her. Her form was dying and there was nothing that I could do.
Then I heard a soft noise coming from Misao.
“Aoshi-sama, are you alright?” Misao’s worried voice called out to me.
“Misao, are you really awake?” I asked, thinking that it was too good to be true.
“Why wouldn’t I be Aoshi-sama?” Misao asked, her voice slightly amused.
“Because you were dying,” I told her, still no quite believing that she was awake.
“Is that why I felt a teardrop on my face. I think that it woke me up,” Misao told me, absentmindedly brushing her cheek. She sat up further, holding her wound. I leaned closer to her. She reached up a hand and wiped my tears away.
“Are these for me?” Misao asked, her tone incredulous.
“Yes,” I said, another wave of tears threatening to consume me. Misao wrapped her arms around me, her own form shaking because of her own tears.
“Misao, I was crying for you. Because I love you,” I told her, both our eyes shining with tears. And a single tear fell.
Author’s Notes:
That was slightly depressing, morbid, and other dark things. This was hard to write because Aoshi is a guy and I am most definitely not. Next, Aoshi is a complicated guy and I assume he had a complex mind; I had to write it. That’s about it. I hope that you liked it. Please tell me what you think.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters in the fic.