Summary: ShinobiLoveAdult February challenge 2005.

1.1

"You are serious." Aoshi stared at the old man, trying to comprehend this... unexpected turn of events. His eyes showed nothing, but inside he was at odds with himself. Could he even do such a thing? After all he had done, all he had put her through, could he even say those words to her face? Aoshi had promised to protect her until the end of his life, but this-

Okina stroked his beard, never breaking eye contact with his former Okashira. "It isn't as if you didn't want this either, Aoshi. You know as well as I that you-"

"I do not think she would approve."

If he were in any other situation, Okina would have had to laugh at that. Shaking his head, he closed his tired eyes. The wrinkles on his face became more pronounced as his smile slid into a frown. "You do not know that," the old man offered. "She has loved you for a... very long time." He was about to say, even when you were full of fury and chaos, but he decided against it. Bringing up the events that were still so freshly cut into their flesh would not help the situation. It had been almost three years since the incident, but Aoshi had only just begun to get over all of the after effects of becoming the monster that had, or at least tried to, killed one of his own.

Aoshi looked at the garden to the left of him. Snow was lightly falling to the ground. Funny how it was cold enough for snow to fall, yet Okina still kept the shoji open. Perhaps he felt no cold. Aoshi certainly did not. "I am aware of her... feelings, Okina. But that does not mean that she will agree to this little arrangement of yours."

"Then perhaps you should ask her instead of me demanding that she do so."

Aoshi's attention was brought back to the old man with that. "I will tell her, yes."

"Ask her, Aoshi. Ask."

"Either way, her answer is going to be no, Okina."

1.2

He found her in front of the Aoi-ya, playing in the snow with Shiro and Kuro. An indescribable envy shot through his body as he stood there, watching them laugh. Laughter was not something Misao and he shared. It was never-ending silence. And as much as he liked peace, the stability of the nothingness between them, he longed to one day open his mouth and say something. Something more than, yes I will have some more tea.

Of the three playing, Misao's smile was the brightest as she readied another snowball. Her braid twitched like a tail, swinging back and forth as she readied the snowball in her gloved hands. A smile tugged on Aoshi's lips as he watched the spectacle. So absorbed in what Misao was doing, he did not realize that the snowball was heading straight for him.

Splat!

At the very last second, Aoshi saw the snowball and dodged it perfectly.

"That's what you get for not paying attention, Aoshi-sama!" Misao called. Her smile grew wider as her eyes sparkled.

Just for him.

Just for her Aoshi-sama.

However, Misao made the mistake of relaxing her guard as she smiled at Aoshi. Shiro and Kuro could not pass up the opportunity. They threw their white missiles hard and true, striking the girl in the face. Misao retaliated with a storm of snowballs, throwing mercilessly at their faces. They surrendered quickly, putting their hands up and shouted something about having to help inside the Aoi-ya. Muttering under her breath, she tossed two more their way before heading towards Aoshi.

Do not come closer, he wanted to say. Never speak to me again. But he lacked the courage. He had uttered those words to her before, and it really did not do much. Except make him realize how much he missed her, and make her realize how much she needed him. Unable to do anything else, he just watched as she approached him, that bright smile upon her face. "Good dodge," she smiled.

He simply nodded. "When you have a chance, Misao, I need to speak with you this evening."

She blinked at his tone. He seemed very serious. Of course, her Aoshi-sama was always very serious, but this was different. There was something stirring in his eyes, and she really could not tell what it was. "Is there something wrong?" Better to ask him straight forward. Misao liked to believe that she and Aoshi had a close enough relationship that he could be upfront with her with these sorts of things.

"Nothing is wrong," he reassured her. Misao let out a breath that she hadn't been aware that she was holding. "I wanted to discuss something with you; that is all."

"Why can't we talk about it now?"

Aoshi eyed Shiro and Kuro as they made their way to the main entrance of the Aoi-ya. They were within listening distance. This was a conversation that he did not want the other Oniwabannshu to hear. "Later," he replied, turning his back to Misao to walk back into the warm hotel.

"Now."

He paused in his exit, looking over his shoulder at the small girl. Such a spitfire was the only one in the entire household who would stand up to him, like that. Seeing the determination in her eyes, he let out a soft sigh. "Very well. Take off your wet clothes and get dry. I will be waiting for you in my quarters."

The little slip of a girl sped past him her footsteps pounding hard against the wooden floor. Aoshi simply stared at her, thinking how upset she would be in after their chat.

1.3

It did not take Misao long to come scurrying to his room. She had changed into her purple ninja fighting gi, with long sleeves attached. However, she still wore her fighting shorts. Even in the middle of winter, she had most of her legs exposed to the cold. He left the door open for her. Sitting placidly, he watched, waiting. She smiled at him as she stood in his doorway. "Aoshi-sama..." she said, her eyes glistening. He raised his hand, offering for her to sit in front of him.

Nodding, she quietly slid the shoji shut before taking a seat before him. Admittedly, she was a little worried about what this conversation was going to be about. She had noticed the looks that Aoshi had been giving Shiro and Kuro. Could it have been that he was actually... jealous? No, that could not have been it. After all, this was her Aoshi-sama. She doubted if he was even capable of jealously, even in its simplest forms.

"You did want to speak to me about something, didn't you?" she asked, eyeing him uneasily. He was being more catatonic than usual. His expressionless face was somehow blanker than it normally was, as if he was he was trying to hide his thoughts even further away from her.

"How..." he paused. Letting out a sigh, he asked, "Do you regard me highly, Misao?"

Misao blinked. Surely he was joking with her. Her jaw slightly opened, she replied, "Of course I regard you highly, Aoshi-sama." Then it struck her. Eyes wide, she quickly asked, her fists clenched in front of her, "Have I done something to make you think otherwise?"

"It is not that, Misao," Aoshi replied, looking to the floor. "It was just a question."

"Is that all you wanted to ask?" she said, standing up. "Because if it was-"

"Sit down, Misao."

Staring at him in shock, Misao quickly sat down. Never had Aoshi taken such a tone with her. She almost had enjoyed Aoshi being forceful with her. Almost. The rest of her wanted to punch him in the face for speaking to her like that.

"I can see this conversation is making you uneasy. I will be brief." He looked down to the floor, away from those honest eyes.

He did not want to see the emotion in them. It only made things harder. "Okina has asked me to do him a favor."

1.4

The old man was shocked to find Misao crashing into his room, eyes narrowed. She looked like she was ready to kill. Her chest rose up and down as she took deep breaths. Stalking towards him, stomped down hard on the floor as tears rolled down her cheeks. "How could you?" she screamed.

Okina was in absolute shock. He turned towards her, his eyes wide. "What are you talking about, Misao?"

She towered over him, threatening to strike him. Never in her life had she hit Okina in anger. But it seemed that the precedent set was not going to be followed if this continued. "How could you force Aoshi-sama into something like this? Did you even think how I might feel?"

Now he understood. Looking at Misao trembling in anger, the old man could not help but be amazed by Aoshi's prediction. Despite for missing half of her life, Aoshi could read Misao better than he. "I thought you would be happy about this," he defended as he regained his sense of dignity. "Besides, it's about time someone stepped in."

"But marriage?"

"Your Grandfather entrusted Aoshi and me to look after you, Misao. You are of age to marry. And I do not see a better suitor for you than the man you chased all around Japan for." He risked a smile then, thinking of all the times Misao would declare she was leaving on another journey, with only rumors and whispers as evidence to Aoshi's whereabouts. There was nothing he could do to stop her except welcome her home with a smile, and perhaps a kick in the shin if she had worried him too much.

"But he doesn't love me," her voice broke as she fell to her knees. Wrapping her knees tight to her chest, she began to cry outright.

Okina could only watch. He could tell her over and over that Aoshi really, truly, did love her, but it would not matter because Misao would not believe him. The only person who could convince her was the person in question, and the former Okashira had made no effort to express his love. Okina knew well enough that Aoshi cared for Misao very dearly. Aoshi would make the perfect husband for her. He would provide for her, keep her safe. Was not that all that was important?

But Aoshi understood. Misao wanted him, not the protection. She wanted to be able to claim Aoshi's heart as her own. An arranged marriage was not the answer. But what else could the old man do? Aoshi would never make a move, and Misao was far too sensitive to anything that would be suggested to her.

Sighing deeply, Okina promised himself that this was for their good. For Misao's sake, he would play the bad guy. "I will not give you a choice in this matter, Misao. You will be married shortly. I want to make sure you are provided for." He took a deep breath, and continued, "Since you have made no attempts for accepting suitors, it was either Aoshi or getting a matchmaker. And I know you would not want to go through that." He stroked his beard a few times, trying to look deceiving. "But if that's what you want, finding a matchmaker won't be difficult."

She shook her head no, her face still pushing against her knees. "No, I don't," a muffled reply came.

"Then stop crying." Standing up, he walked over to his ward and patted her on the back. "Don't be so sad, my pretty," he said, slowly grinning. "After all, you finally get what you wanted. Your Aoshi-sama will belong only to you. Why fight it?"

2.1

It did not take long for the word to spread throughout Kyoto about Aoshi and Misao's engagement. After all, the go-between had ended up being Okina, and he had the largest mouth in all of Kyoto. The ceremony was set for the following week. Okina argued that this was only because there was no reason to delay things, as Aoshi and Misao already knew each other.

Misao, for her part, was completely avoiding any interaction with Aoshi whatsoever. If there were any questions she needed to answer about the ceremony or the reception, she would answer them right away, before Omasu or Okon had the chance to ask Aoshi for his opinion. Not that would have mattered, as Aoshi was indecisive and probably would have agreed with whatever she had suggested anyway.

There was only one thing that he insisted on. The registering, ceremony and wedding party would all be on the same day, to, as Aoshi eloquently put it, "get it over with." Okina had scolded Aoshi for making it all sound like a chore, instead of a celebration. But since it was the only thing that he wanted, even though it was tradition to have such things spread out, Misao agreed to it. Besides, she had to second the vote of wanting to get everything over and done with. The sooner they could get back to their normal lives, the better. The anticipation of the upcoming marriage made her so anxious she forgot that she had to breathe at some times.

And so the charade of avoidance went on for the whole week, until the day before all of the festivities.

Misao lay in her bed, trying very hard to not to think about the next day. It was morning, but she had been up since the night before. There was a loud rapping at Misao's door. She opened a heavy eyelid and glared at the shoji. "Who's there?" she grumbled, trying to bury herself deeper in her blankets.

"Misao-chan, get out of that bed! You need to take Aoshi-sama his tea!" Omasu's voice came through the rice paper.

"Let'im get his own damn tea for once," she mumbled, trying to shut Omasu out. If he could have survived a whole week without she bringing his tea to him, then surely Aoshi could live another day without it. After all, she would be seeing enough of him the next day. She already felt an incredible guilt for being the one that had dragged him through all of this. He very clearly did not want to marry her, but he accepted Okina's offer. Probably out of respect for the old man, she assumed. The fact that Aoshi regarded their wedding only as a request from Okina hurt her very deeply. The only way she could get her true love was from a stupid promise between men.

She hated both of them for this.

The shoji slammed open, revealing Omasu with her hands on her hips and her lips pursed. "You get up this instant, Misao-chan! You are getting married tomorrow, for God's sake. The least you could do is go out there and show Aoshi-sama how much you care about him, and what a wonderful wife you will be." Stomping over to the futon, Omasu threw aside Misao's blankets and pulled the small girl to her feet. "Now get ready to go out!"

"But Omasu-san-"

"You'll thank me for this later, Misao-chan. Just do it."

2.2

She stood at the entrance of the shrine, a hand on her hip, the other balancing the tray of tea for her Aoshi. Omasu had somehow convinced her that it was too cold to wear her normal uniform, and had made her borrow a warm kimono. It was a pale blush color, which faded into purple. The bottom of the kimono was adorned with large plum blossoms in a darker purple, and as big as Misao's fist. Misao had complained that it made her look like a giant red and purple mess. Omasu had said she looked cute. Not really wanting to be out at the temple, and wanting even less to be wearing the kimono, Misao clenched her teeth and entered Aoshi's regular chamber at the temple, promising herself that she would not take any longer than she would need to get back to the Aoi-ya.

Aoshi had been surprised to sense Misao's presence at the temple. After all, he had noticed her blatantly obvious attempts to avoid him ever since he had told her they were to be married. He told himself time and again that Misao's coldness towards him did not bother him in the slightest. But he did long for her company. After a week of her absence, he could admit to himself that he truly did need her by his side.

Smiles.

Laughs.

Innocence.

They were things that he could never have, and she so readily gave them to him.

Turning as he heard her enter, he opened his mouth to welcome her, but immediately lost the ability to speak as he drank in her appearance. Had she done this for him? Surely not. But he could not remember, for the life of him, a time when he had seen Misao dressed in a kimono. The purple accented her eyes, made them shine even brighter. He had seen Omasu wear the kimono before, but it looked so much more appealing on Misao. Or perhaps it was Misao looked so much more appealing in it.

"Your tea," she said flatly, bringing the tray over to his side. The tray settled with a loud clack that echoed throughout the room.

In silence, she poured his tea.

In silence, he took the cup in his hand and began to sip.

In silence, they sat.

Misao was not sure how long she sat there, staring at him, trying to mentally force something out of that mouth of his. Why had he not said a word to her since she had arrived? Did he really regret being engaged to her so much?

Putting the cup back on the tray, he slowly shifted his head to turn towards her. Their eyes met. "I will have some more tea, Misao."

Nodding, she poured more tea into the cup. Once again they went through the act, in silence. Misao watched on as Aoshi drank his tea.

In silence.

"Is this how our marriage is going to be?" she finally asked, her clenched fists holding small wads of the kimono tightly in their grasp. Arms trembling, she cursed herself for asking such a question. It would make her seem unhappy, unsatisfied. It would only make the gap between them wider.

He paused in taking a sip, and removed the cup from his lips. Bringing it to his lap, Aoshi looked towards the floor, an unnoticed smirk on his lips. "I would imagine," he replied, quietly.

More material became balled up in her fists as she tightened her grip on the kimono. "You know," she said, trying to form the words in her head before spouting them out. "You know, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. I will understand."

"Do you not want to?" He looked at her then, in a sort of shock. Was she going to deny him after all of this? She could, at any time, tell him no and ask Okina to hire a matchmaker. After all, there were many more men in the world that actually deserved her, who could appreciate-

"I want you to be happy," she stressed, trying to hold back any tears that might have come forth. No, she had to keep a strong face in front of him. Gods, she loved him so much, but if he was going to be unhappy, it was not worth it. "The promise you made to Okina or my Grandfather be damned. I just want you to be happy, Aoshi-sama."

He had no answer for that. Deep within butterflies had begun to spring up in his stomach, but he quickly quelled them. After many years of training, he was in complete control of his emotions.

Instead, he brought the tea cup back to his lips and took the last sip.

"I will have some more tea, Misao."

Obligingly, she poured more tea for him, trying to hold back any further outbursts. Instead, she changed the subject. "Himura and the others should be arriving soon." Her hands nervously twitched in front of her, debating with themselves if they should reach out and try to touch him or not. Balling her hands into tight fists again, she pulled her hands away from Aoshi. "I should... go meet them," she said hesitantly, slowly rising from the floor. When no response was given, she took that as a blessing to leave. Walking to the door, she risked another glance at her bridegroom and asked, "You can take the tea tray back home right?" Home. Not the Aoi-ya, but home. Their home.

He nodded.

Nodding in silence, she turned face forward. Just as she was about to take a step out of the temple, he called to her, "Misao-"

She stiffened, turning her head quickly to face him. "Yes, Aoshi-sama?" she whispered.

"Be careful."

Why should she expect anything more? With a nod, she turned forward once more and said, "I will."

2.3

"Misao-chan!" Kaoru called, waving her hands in the air, trying to catch the younger girl's eye. Behind her was Himura Kenshin, carrying both their bags. After much coercing on the train, she had finally let him carry her bag for her. After all, she was six months pregnant. The protruding of her abdomen only just barely showed, producing an odd curve in the obi where there should not have been one. Misao was surprised that Kenshin had actually let his wife out of the house in her condition. But, she supposed, Kaoru would not miss such an important event.

A smile formed on Misao's face as she ran towards the two, shouting, "Kaoru-san! Kaoru-san!" Misao wrapped her friend in a hug, careful of the baby. "I'm so glad that you guys got here okay. Traveling on the train in winter time"

Kaoru waved her hand. "Oh Misao-chan," she hit the younger girl playfully on the back, "There was nothing for you to worry about. Not even a blizzard could have stopped us from being here for your wedding."

Kenshin smiled, "Well, perhaps a blizzard."

Trying to hide her giggles with a cough, Misao took one of the bags from Kenshin while Kaoru glared at her husband. "I wanted to give my congratulations to you Misao-dono, before everything blurred together. Because it will, believe me." She smiled at her one-time companion. It would have almost been a year since she traveled to Tokyo for his and Kaoru's wedding. She remembered, sitting there with Aoshi beside her, how happy she was for her two friends. And how envious.

You won't have that problem anymore, tomorrow. Shaking such thoughts out of her head, she began to lead the way out of the train station. "So where's Yahiko?" Misao asked, half-knowing what the answer was going to be.

"Tsubame," Kaoru said, as if that explained everything. Tsubame had long before caught Yahiko's eye, but it was only recently that he found the courage to do something about it. At Kaoru's wedding, Yahiko had even risked touching Tsubame's hand as she cried tears of joy for her friends. Misao remembered watching the two from across the room, hoping that Aoshi would be inspired to do something similar.

So much of her relationship with Aoshi was based on such false hopes. She understood that now.

They entered the busy main street of Kyoto. Despite the bitter winter cold, many people were still out and about, doing their food shopping, carrying messages. Misao stuck close to Kenshin and Kaoru, afraid they would get swept away in the waves of people. She knew Kenshin could handle himself, but he would be working double time to make sure nothing even touched his wife, so she slowed her pace down a little.

"Is everything ready for the big day tomorrow, Misao-chan?" Kaoru asked, a cheesy smile on her face.

Misao sighed. It seemed that Kaoru was more excited about the wedding than she was. "Yes everything is ready. In the morning Aoshi-sama and I will be going to the registrar's office. The ceremony itself will be held at the temple down the street, and then we will all head back to the Aoi-ya for the after-party."

"That sounds like a little too much for one day," Kenshin blinked. It seemed they were in a hurry to get this wedding business over with. "Are you sure you can handle all of that, Misao-dono?"

She turned to face her friends and put a bright fake smile on, "Yep!"

But Kenshin and Kaoru were not fooled by Misao's reply. They both could see the dark look in her eyes. Looking at each other with worry, they silently prayed that everything would go smoothly the next day.

2.4

Not to Kenshin's surprise, Aoshi was waiting for them outside of the Aoi-ya. He was standing in the cold, watching like a hawk; waiting for their return. For Misao's return. Kenshin walked ahead, approaching his friend with a broad smile on his face, "It is good to see you doing well, Aoshi."

Raising an eyebrow at the small warrior, Aoshi replied, "It's been almost a year."

"And many things have changed," Kenshin continued to smile.

"Have they?"

The two stood standing there staring down each other while the two females caught up. "I'm home, Aoshi-sama," Misao said, the cheerfulness in her voice almost lost.

"Many things," Kenshin repeated, walking past Aoshi into the Aoi-ya. Hollers came from inside, with Okina and the others welcoming Kenshin into their home once more.

Kaoru followed, taking her time on the few icy steps leading to the porch, "Aoshi-san! Congratulations!"

"Thank you," he said, his eyes closed, still leaning against the walls of the Aoi-ya. He did not notice, but Misao stiffened at his cold response. "I assume your trip went well."

Nodding, a smile came to Kaoru's face. "Of course! I wouldn't miss this for the world." She turned to Misao and smiled, knowingly. "It's about time this happened."

"Ah... Kaoru-san," Misao nervously laughed, as she ran to help her friend into the Aoi-ya faster. The quicker Kaoru was inside, the quicker she would stop embarrassing the poor Weasel girl. "It's too cold for you to be out here. Come, come!"

"Misao-chan! I'm not a glass doll!" Kaoru protested jovially as the two-headed inside.

"Misao."

Pausing, she turned to Aoshi with a questioning look on her face. "Yes, Aoshi-sama?"

Slowly, he put his hand out to her, open palmed. "I will take the bag inside," he offered.

Blushing at the contact that the two made with their hands, she placed the strap in his hand as she stuttered, "O-okay." Her hand lingered only a second longer than it should have, but Kaoru noticed.

The smile on Kaoru's face only grew wider.

2.5

The inevitable party was already in full swing by the time Aoshi had managed to escape outside. He sat on the back porch, his feet hanging over the ledge, watching as the sun set. The cool winter air swept around him, flying through his hair, but unable to chill the man of ice.

That was how Kaoru found him as she, too, snuck away from the party. When she saw that Aoshi had escaped the fray, she decided to take it upon herself to find out what was troubling Misao. And from the way they were acting earlier, she knew she could find, albeit indirect ones, answers to her questions from the former Okashira. "Getting some fresh air?" she asked.

He did not turn to face her, but instead continued to watch the sunset. "I am not one for gatherings," he replied. Slowly, he turned to face her, a solemn look on his face. "You?"

Kaoru smiled and walked up beside him. "I saw you leave and thought it might be a good time to talk to you. Do you mind if I sit?" When he did not reply, Kaoru took his silence as a yes. Easing herself down, she plopped next to him, hanging her legs off of the end of the porch as well.

"It is usually Himura who wants to talk with me," Aoshi observed quietly.

"I thought I would take a stab at this for once." She grinned at him. "So why is Misao-chan so... distant?"

More silence. "You have to have noticed it, Aoshi-san," Kaoru reasoned. "Kenshin and I saw it the moment that we got off the train. Something is bothering her."

"I have noticed it," he said, continuing to watch the sunset.

"You know what it is then?" Kaoru pressed.

"I do."

There was a silence between them as Kaoru stared at Aoshi, waiting in anticipation. When he did not answer, she finally blurted out, "So what is it?"

He looked at her with a sidelong glance. "I beg your pardon?"

Flustered, Kaoru looked down to her lap. "Sorry. I'm no good at these sorts of things." Successfully making an idiot out of herself, she took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. "Perhaps it's not my business to pry into."

"No, it is not," Aoshi curtly replied.

"But if you know what the problem is..." she continued, still looking at her lap. Kaoru understood how Misao felt at times now. She had seen him be very commanding and cold before, but this was the first time she was under fire of it. "... Maybe you should try to fix it."

Aoshi sighed at that, looking back to the sunset. He tried to think of an answer that would make the silly girl go away. "If there was a way to fix it, I would."

"Then maybe you aren't trying hard enough," Kaoru offered, looking back up at his profile. "I mean, I haven't been married for a long time, so I'm hardly one to be giving out advicebut, part of it is about communication. Talk to her."

"You make that sound easier than it is."

"Maybe by talking to her you'll find out how to fix it," Kaoru continued. "I care about the both of you very much, and all I want is for the two of you to be happy." Pushing herself off of the porch, she stood up, placing a hand on Aoshi's shoulder. "I know you can be."

Taking a few steps towards the roaring sounds of the party, Kaoru looked back and said, "I'm going back inside. Should I tell them that you've gone to bed for the evening?"

"Yes," he replied, still looking towards the horizon.

With a last look at his sitting form, Kaoru walked back to the Aoi-ya, bombarded with the sounds of drunken singing and loud laughing.

3.1

If there was a way to pinch herself out of this reality, Misao would have done it by now. But pinching did not help. The scene did not fade away. This was really happening. Early in the morning, she and Aoshi had registered as a married couple. So, legally, she and Aoshi were already married.

Married.

That was going to take some time to get used to.

She looked in the mirror that Omasu held up. "You look so pretty, Misao-chan!"

Misao's weary eyes glanced at the form before her. There she was, dressed in an elaborate rich silk brocade kimono. Hanging on her obi, which was also white, was a small purse, carrying a kaiken, "for luck," Omasu had told her. Her hair was done up with tortoise shell clips. Stray hairs frayed to the side, but somehow still looked neat and pristine. Her face was painted a pale white, her lips were stained a bright red. In all of her years, she had never dressed so formally.

"Oh, before I forget!" Omasu said, turning Misao towards her once more. From behind her back, she whipped out a small golden fan, which was partially opened. She tucked it into Misao's obi.

"What's this for?" Misao questioned as Omasu stuffed her hand behind the obi, along with the fan.

The older woman smiled, tapping Misao on the forehead. "For happiness."

"I'm going to need more than one of those, Omasu-san," Misao retorted.

"Oh, stop that, Misao-chan," Omasu snapped. "I'm sure you will be very happy together with Aoshi-sama." Misao looked at her friend like she had gone crazy. "You will," Omasu insisted.

Rolling her eyes, Misao replied, "Yes, because he was so thrilled this morning at the registrar's office. He was practically walking on clouds."

"Misao-chan, that's not fair," Omasu pressed. "This is hard for Aoshi-sama too. This is a big step that the both of you are taking."

"Yeah, thanks to Jiya," Misao scoffed. "If he hadn't stuck his head into our business"

"Then you wouldn't be getting what's coming to you this evening," Omasu finished with a grin.

Misao looked towards her friend with uncertainty. "What?"

Omasu just continued to smile as she covered Misao's head with a white cloth, covering her hair, and completing the outfit. "Perfect."

"You still haven't answered my question, Omasu-san."

The shoji to Misao's room slid open and Kenshin peeked his head into the room. "Are you about ready, Misao-dono?"

"Yes, Himura," Misao called, trying to adjust the white cloth on her head. She felt silly with it there, but Omasu had explained to her earlier that it represented obedience, or something like that. As if she had to show her Aoshi that she would be obedient to him.

Nodding, Kenshin started to slide his head back out of the room. "Okay, Aoshi just left so-"

"He what?" Misao exclaimed.

"Don't worry, don't worry," Kenshin said soothingly as he let himself into the room. "He said he would be waiting for you at the shrine."

Misao walked over to Kenshin with her eyes glittering. "But we were supposed to-"

Kenshin placed his hands on the small girl's shoulders. "I said don't worry about it, Misao-dono. Aoshi has his own way. He cares for you very deeply. You know this, correct?"

Shaking her head, she argued, "He really doesn't Himura. At least not in the way that I want him to."

A smile came to the former hitokiri's face as he started down at the young Weasel girl. His wife had told him about the conversation she and Aoshi had shared the night before. It seemed as if their hunches about the true feelings of Aoshi and Misao were correct. "You two are so alike," he mused, patting Misao on the head.

"Who? Kaoru-san and me?" Misao asked, thinking that now was not really an appropriate time to compare her with his wife.

"No," Kenshin shook his head. Misao cocked her head to the side, confused. "You'll understand," he reassured. "Very soon, you'll understand."

3.2

Waiting at the shrine was more taxing on his nerves than Aoshi thought it would be. Sitting in the Aoi-ya, waiting for Misao to come downstairs had been driving him mad. It seemed as if it was taking forever to be ready, like she was purposefully torturing him. So he left, hoping, praying, that by the time he arrived at the shrine everything would be ready and they could get the ceremony over with.

It was snowing heavily outside. The blinding white covered everything in the streets, masking the city of Kyoto from the world. A wedding in winter. It was almost unheard of. Normally, couples would wait to make the ever-lasting promise until spring, or summer.

Conventional couples.

However, Aoshi admitted to himself, there was hardly anything conventional about Misao and his relationship. For starters, there was the age difference between them. He was vastly older than she, and in that time had lived two lives. He had murdered, become a monster.

There was also the question of the feelings that they shared. Aoshi could not really provide an answer to his own feelings. Misao, although she confessed to loving him almost daily, was still young, and did not really know what real love should feel like. He was the only man she ever "loved" and therefore, could still learn to love another. She would get over her foolish infatuation eventually. What would happen the morning when she woke up and realized that he was not who she wanted? What could he do then? Keep her bound to him, only his forever and ever? Could he bear to watch her pine for someone else?

That was the real problem that plagued Aoshi's mind. Could he let her marry another man?

He tried to force himself to say yes he could, for her sake. But he could not bring forth the courage. He was a coward when it came to this subject. Perhaps he did want Misao for his own, to lock up with a key and keep her to himself. The thought did bring him some sort of relief. If she belonged to him, then he would never have to worry about her. He could always have the excuse of the marriage binding them to stay close by.

But the opening of the door to Aoshi's right quelled his thoughts. In came Kenshin, covered in snow, along with his wife, and Omasu. Okon, Okina, Shiro and Kuro had since arrived and were helping prepare for the ceremony. "Good afternoon, Aoshi," Kenshin smiled as he removed his shoes. He turned to his wife and held her hand as she took her shoes off. "Are you okay, Kaoru-dono?"

"I told you I'm fine, Kenshin. Stop fretting."

"It's just that it was very cold outside," Kenshin reasoned, switching hands with his wife so she could remove her other shoe.

"Where is Misao?" Aoshi asked, noting that she was not with the others.

Kenshin blinked as Kaoru stood up straight. "Oh," he blinked, "She was right behind us."

A white figure appeared in the doorway. The head was lowered, a while shroud covering the crown. Aoshi immediately identified the raven tresses peeking from under the white cloth that covered the figure's head as Misao's hair. It was impossible to tell what was the white of the snow and what was the white of the kimono. They bled together seamlessly, giving her a glitter that made her appear even more beautiful.

"Misao?" was the only thing Aoshi could say.

She looked up to him then, her eyes glistening. As she looked up she took note of his dark purple hakama, and a matching dark purple kimono and haori on top of everything. His family crest was blazing white on his chest on each side. A white fan was tucked in the belt to the hakama. "Aoshi-sama..." she whispered, trying to hold back a gasp.

Omasu looked to Kaoru, a smile on her face. "How long do you think they are going to stand like that, with their mouths open in shock?"

"At least an hour," Kaoru giggled. "Maybe the rest of the day."

Aoshi shook his head. "I am just surprised that is all..."

"Does it not suit-"

"No!" Aoshi blurted out. "No, it is not that," he tried to say again, this time less fevered. "I am... just at a loss for words."

Grinning widely, Omasu pushed Misao towards Aoshi. "She cleans up good when she actually tries, doesn't she?" Flushing deeply, Misao tried to prevent crashing into Aoshi's towering figure, and failed. He caught her at the shoulders, holding her an arms length away from him. Misao diverted her eyes, trying to hide her blush. A small smile formed on Aoshi's lips at his bride's timidness. If only she acted like this all of the time. But then again, she would not be the woman that he loved.

Woman that he loved.

That had a good ring to it.

4.1

Misao had not thought that it was possible for a woman to black out her entire wedding, but apparently it was. So flustered was she over the ceremony that later that night when she tried to recall anything from the ceremony, she could not. She vaguely remembered kneeling to the Shinto priest, and Aoshi and her sharing cups of sake. But other than that, it was a blur.

"And I promise you, Misao, to be by your side until the last breath escapes my lips."

Oh yes. And she remembered Aoshi promising her that in his vows. Perhaps it was that line that made her forget everything else. Her heart was beating so fast after hearing those words leave Aoshi's lips, she felt as if she could die right there and be satisfied.

However, there was still doubt creeping in her mind. Doubt enough to make her leave the after party early and curl up on her futon. The bright red silk of her uchikake kimono shone in the darkening room. The intricate designs with gold, black, and blue still were visible, glowing in the dimming light. The sun would be setting soon. And it was only a matter of time before Aoshi noticed that she had left. Before everyone noticed.

Perhaps she could pretend she was sick and not have to return to the party. She did feel sick to her stomach. Butterflies were raging war on her insides as she tried to keep down what little sashimi and tea that she did ingest during the after party. And the sake from the exchange... it still bubbled in her gut, only adding to her nausea.

She brought her knees closer to her chest. She wanted this night to be over. Then in the morning she would wake up and everything could go back to the way it used to be. Or at least she could pretend it had. Aoshi was not bound to her, eternally, and they were just friends. And she would not hold him down with his vows. If he actually fell in love with another woman, she would let him go. Who was she to bind him to her, when he did not love her the way a normal man loves a woman?

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. There was no question in her mind on who was coming. She closed her eyes down tightly, covering her head with the large sleeve of the uchikake kimono. Maybe if she willed it hard enough, he would just go away.

4.2

Did she think that he had not seen her leave? Not once had Misao left the attention of Aoshi during the after party. Whether he was standing in a corner, blatantly watching her, or watching her in a subtle way as he spoke to the guests at the reception, his attention was completely hers. There were faces that he knew, and some that he did not. It seemed that everyone who had some sort of stature appeared at the Aoi-ya that night. This suited Okina fine, but it gave a headache to Aoshi. The more people there, the more difficult it was to keep an eye on Misao. He was worried about her pale color, and the looks she continued to send him. She looked anxious, distracted, and very jumpy.

When she finally made her unannounced exit, he followed her. But he waited a few moments, as to not arouse suspicions of the guests. He knew well what the guests would think if both the bride and groom were suddenly missing. And that was the last thing he wanted any of the guests to be thinking about.

He stopped outside her door and listened. No noise. He half expected to hear sobbing.

Reaching out for the handle, Aoshi hesitated. Perhaps walking into her room without permission would make her feel uneasier. But what if she denied him entry? It was just a risk he was going to have to take.

"Misao? Are you all right?"

4.3

"Yes, Aoshi-sama," she answered before she could stop herself. So much for not letting him know that she was hiding in her room.

"May I come in?"

Her heart began to pound loud in her ears again. No, she wanted to say. She did not want to see him again until morning, when everything would return as it should. Maybe it would be better if they never saw one another again; that way she could always pretend that Aoshi had actually meant the words that he had said to her during the ceremony. She could always pretend that he loved her.

But no, she could not deny him any request- even if she did not want to see him. The last thing she needed was for him to worry about her. She did not want or need his pity.

"Yes, Aoshi-sama."

4.4

The door to her room slid open slowly. Misao continued to hide her head, curling tighter on top of her futon. She did not want him to see her like this. She heard his footsteps come close to her, and she felt the futon suddenly bend with extra weight. He was sitting next to her. On her futon. It was a closeness the two had not shared since she was little.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

Still curled on the futon, she asked into her uchikake kimono, "Why did you do this?"

"Do what, Misao?"

"You didn't have to," she continued, ignoring his question.

"What, Misao?"

She sniffed, "Why did you marry me?"

A silence settled into the room. It was a silence that the two had become very accustomed to. Aoshi stared at his wife in her pathetic state, somehow trying to find the words to explain his actions. But there were no eloquent words, no reasonable explanation that he could give her. His decision meant more than what she thought. It was more than the promise. Like she had said, damn the promise. He married her because...

Gently, he grabbed the sleeve of the uchikake kimono, pulled it away from her face and stared into her tearing eyes. What words could he give to her that would reassure her frazzled feelings? There were none. All he could do was stare.

Misao sat up then, daring to stare right back into his eyes. "Why can't you ever answer me? Can't you tell me what is going through that head of yours?"

Instead of answering, he did what came naturally. What he had wanted to do ever since he had agreed to marry her. No, before that. He could trace the desire all the way back to when he first returned to the Aoi-ya. With a quick jerk, he pulled her face towards him, pushing his lips against hers.

Senses gone awry, Misao pushed him away, eyes wild. "What-"

"Why do you always demand answers of me?" he interrupted, his hand still firmly cupped around her cheek. "Could it be possible that I do not have an answer for you?" He leaned in and kissed her again. "Will that suffice as an answer?"

Misao pushed away again, "You're avoiding the question. I still want to know why you married me."

He smiled then. "I thought that would be obvious by now."

Shaking her head no, Misao replied, "Tell me in words."

"I have not the words to tell you how I feel." He brushed his right hand against Misao's face, pushing it up into her hair and stopping at the hair ornaments that were still in place. "I cannot rest when I do not see you happy. I cannot imagine what it would be like if you were to go away, to leave me alone. I could not function without seeing your smile every day."

Misao smiled then, bringing her hands up to his face, tracing his jaw line with her tiny cold fingers. "So, in essence, you love me."

"In a number of words, yes."

Letting out a loud breath that she had not realized she was holding, Misao replied, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because," he said as leaned his forehead against hers. "I was afraid of something."

"What?" Misao asked.

"You."

Blinking, Misao asked, "Me?"

"Of your response," he explained. He pulled away then and leaned up against the nearby wall, looking away. "Himura Kaoru had told me that she noticed that something was bothering you. And I had noticed it too. I thought," he paused, trying to find the right words. "I thought that you did not wish to obey Okina on this matter."

"Getting married?" Misao sounded more surprised than she wanted to.

Aoshi nodded. "It seemed that you did not wish to marry."

"I told you that day in the shrine that I didn't want to get married because I thought that you didn't want to." Giggling quietly, she leaned over to her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck. "We are both idiots, you know that?"

His smile returned as he looked down at her, amused. "Because you doubted my thoughts?"

"You doubted mine too," Misao defended, pouting at him.

Placing his thumb under her forefinger, and his fingers under her bottom lip, Aoshi brought her face closer to his. "Then perhaps we should provide further proof for one another." Slowly, he once more kissed her on the lips. "But only when you are ready."

5.1

The guests in the Aoi-ya had since gone to sleep when Misao snuck out of her room. Winter's chill rested on the wooden boards in the hallway. In her socked feet, she silently crept over to her husband's room. After their "talk" earlier in the evening, he had retired to his quarters, simply kissing her good night. But his words to her about being ready bothered her. Being ready for what?

At his door she did not even hesitate to knock. She was, after all, his wife, there was no need to knock. Sliding open the doors ever so quietly, she stepped into the room, only to find Aoshi not lying in his bed.

An arm suddenly grabbed her from behind, and a hand covered her mouth before she could scream.

5.2

"What are you doing, Misao?" he whispered into her ear huskily.

As Aoshi eased his solid grip on her mouth, Misao hissed, "I came to see you, what else?"

"Why?" It was his impression that she was not yet ready to share a bed with him. She made no move to invite him to stay earlier in the evening. It was not a subject that had been discussed. Since so many new discoveries were being made in that one night, he felt it was unfair of him to push one more thing upon her.

"I wanted to ask what you meant about proving our feelings to one another."

Aoshi raised his eyebrows as his mouth gaped open. This was a scenario that he was not ready for. He assumed that she had been trained in the 'duties' that a wife would uphold with her husband and vice versa. Taught when he was only fifteen, Aoshi was well versed in the art of lovemaking. Until that moment, he believed that Misao had received similar training. But the innocence in her question was proof enough that she indeed was not. "You are not ready," he said simply, letting her go.

Turning with her hands on her hips, she glared at him. "What do you mean, Aoshi-sama? How am I 'not ready'?"

The darkness in his room surrounded the two of them. As Aoshi took a step towards her, the shadows shifted, keeping his face hidden, suppressing the raw emotion, the want, everything he did not want to show her quite yet. "I am not trying to impugn your feelings, Misao. I believe, however, that you are not even aware of the other duties being husband and wife carries." Before she could ask him again what he was speaking of, his arms were around her, holding her tight to his chest. "I refuse to push you."

"Just tell me what it is," she whispered into his chest.

Letting out a deep sigh, Aoshi finally answered. "I was referring to making love, Misao."

He could feel her tense under his grip. "What do you-"

"Go back to bed, Misao," Aoshi insisted. He released her from his hold, giving her a light push in the direction of the door.

Turning to look at him, she glared. "Tell me, Aoshi-sama. I want to be a good wife to you." She laughed then, quietly, a small smile curving her lips. "We didn't really get a good start today, so please, let me at least do this right. I want to prove to you that I..." her voice broke as she played with her hands in front of her. She changed the subject. "Omasu-san said something was supposed to happen on our wedding night, but she didn't say what or explain anything to me."

Exasperated, Aoshi shook his head. "I regret saying that to you now." With another sigh, he explained, "It really cannot be told to you. It is better to show it."

"Then show me," she said, taking a step towards him.

"Intercourse is a painful experience, Misao, especially for you since you are..." he trailed off, suddenly embarrassed by telling Misao flat out that she was a virgin.

She took another step towards him. "How much does it hurt?"

"It can hurt a lot," he turned his head away from her. If she continued to approach him the way she was, with her lips parted, he would not be able to hold back much longer. It was taking every inch of his control to not take her right there. It would not be fair to her. She was inexperienced...

Within touching distance of his chest now, Misao crept her fingers up his shoulders, tracing the accents of his muscles. "Can you promise to not make it hurt a lot?"

"I cannot," he replied, still not looking into her eyes. "Go to bed, Misao."

"Show me, Aoshi-sama."

"No."

"Yes."

Misao pulled herself in closer to him. Now her scent of lavender and vanilla was creeping into his nostrils. He would not be able to control his urges for very much longer if she continued to push. "No," he finally managed to say, trying to block everything out.

"Yes," she whispered harshly.

5.3

The air in the room was heavy with their panting breaths, hot with their raised body heat. Covered in sweat, the two fell back to Aoshi's futon. Misao looked worryingly at her lover, pushing back his sweat drenched bangs. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked.

"No," Aoshi reassured her in a husky whisper. "We finally did something right." His eyes fluttered shut as a wave of drowsiness hit him. And on he traveled to the land of dreams, contently sleeping with his new wife in his arms.

That night, the former relationship that the two shared had died. It was reborn as something new, unfamiliar, and they would have the rest of their lives to enjoy it.

Fin

Notes:
PLEASE NOTE: YOU ARE READING THE CENSORED VERSION OF "DECAY"!

If you would like to read the lemon that actually belongs in 5.3, and are old enough to do so, please go to my website, which can be found on my fanfiction dot net profile.

People are probably wondering why the hell I called this fic "Decay". Well, first, it's a Rie Fu song, so I really should have to justify my choice further (but I will). Second, in Japanese tradition, a bride wears white, a mourning color, to signify the "death" of her in her own family, and her "birth" into her husband's family. Pretty cool, huh? My third mysterious reason is that the relationship that Aoshi and Misao had before this fic decayed during the time span that this story took place. It is replaced with a love that wasn't there before, because the two of them were too stupid to realize that it was there. So that is my explanation. The end.

From 3.2 on, I was listening to Rufus Wainwright's "Hallelujah" on repeat for hours. It's sad and I think that reflects in the story. Seriously, you could read the story and listen to the song and it would fit. Almost a song fic, but not. Also from 3.2 on, I had an incredible writer's block, while getting deadly sick, so the rest of this story has come along very slowly. Reading The Merchant of Venice helped, however. Aoshi's soliloquy in 3.2 is very Shakespearean-like in my mind. I wanted to have Aoshi say, "But soft you now, here comes the fair Misao..." but I decided against it... That's from Hamlet by the way. Yes, I can randomly quote Hamlet.

Many thanks go to Kettering, Western Ink, and Mikofor without them, I would have never gotten through this fic. Especially Kettering, for continuing to insist that the story was good long after I wanted to trash it. Because this was the never-ending storyohhhh ohhhohhhh... All right, I'm a dork! You guys should have figured that out by now! Also a BIG thanks goes to my editor for this "short", Laih, who helped me A LOT. Words cannot express the gratitude I have for her! THANK YOU! Now the story doesn't make people vomit blood, because before it didI swear!

Disclaimer:
This fiction was written for entertainment purposes only. The characters of Rurouni Kenshin belong to Watsuki-san. Standard disclaimers apply.