It was well into the night when they finally appeared, two men dragging their weariness back where there were people waiting for them. Two men, one with a long scabbard and a trenchcoat. Shinomori Aoshi. Aoshi-sama... Makimachi Misao put her hands to her mouth, unable to believe the apparition. The tears brimmed, flooded, blurring, drowning her vision. "... Aoshi-sama..."
Her numbed wits could not register the panic that hurtled Kamiya Kaoru across the distance, nor the reluctance in the returning champions.
"Where... is he?" The girl's voice rattled and rasped. Her hands shook uncontrollably, but the grip they latched on the tall, reserved man who came first was crushingly sure, a deadly vice. He shook his head silently, unable to meet her eyes. Fingers dug deep into his hard forearm. She croaked her desperate demand, voice finding strength and stability in fearful rage. "Where is Kenshin?" But in her heart, she already knew.
"He's gone."
But that did not make the blow come any lighter. Kaoru dropped him like hot iron. "No..." She pleaded; and finding no assurance in the swordsman, turned to the suffering man behind him. "Sanosuke, tell me it's not true..."
He placed a bloodied, shattered hand on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort, well beyond any physical pain to feel it. "Oh Jou-chan..." He didn't go on. Couldn't.
She knew his pain was as great as hers. Himura Kenshin was his as much as hers. But to the passionate spirit free of rationality, it meant nothing. She flung his hand off and backed away, screaming bloody murder.
"No! You promised! You promised to bring him back! Liar! Thief! Scoundrol! Bastard!" She broke, then, stumbling backwads, shaken by the horror of the terrible words that rolled off her tongue, unable to think, unable to stop. She didn't want to hurt Sanosuke. She did not want to hate him. She wanted to cry in his arms and comfort him and be comforted. Kenshin, their Kenshin was gone. At the same time, there was nothing she would have liked more than to rip his head off on the spot. Nothing.
Misao caught her before she hurt herself losing her balance. "Kaoru..." She knew, but did not understand. She mourned with her for their loss, yet secretly, selfishly, her private heart overwhelmed with rejoicing at the restoration of her love. "Kaoru, I'm sorry... ..."
Kaoru leaned heavily against the Oniwabanshuu girl, heedless of her newly cracked ribs. Misao bore it on the pain of guilt, heartbroken to see her friend, so strong, so shining, full of hope a scant few hours before, whimpering in a boneless heap.
"Iya... iyaiyaiyaiya... da'me... you promised..."
What was she to tell Yahiko when he woke?
*