Ship(s): Aoshi/Misao

Summary: #30 off of the 30kisses community as well as my answer for the ShinobiLove July challenge. If anyone takes this plotbunny seriously, you need help. This is very, very, very silly.

It was completely and utterly unfair, if one were to ask Shinomori Aoshi. Having her walk past him every day and smiling that infectious smile was bad enough. But now- it was just too vulgar.

Kyoto was experiencing the worst drought since before Misao was born, added to the fact that it was the middle of shi-chi-gatsu, things were getting increasingly hot both outside and inside the Aoi-ya. So it didn't surprise Aoshi when he went downstairs into the restaurant that particular morning to find Kuro and Shiro's sleeves were rolled up, as he had done the same. It also didn't surprise him when Omasu and Okon came in, carrying trays, that their yukata were folded a little higher than usual, while also having their sleeves tied up. It was very hot, after all.

But what did surprise him was what Misao had chosen to serve tables in, which so happened to also be what was so blatantly unfair. It looked as if she had cut her usual casual purple hapi coat, with the small light purple tie on the back, high enough to expose her entire mid-riff. And if that wasn't outrageous enough, when she waved to Aoshi as he walked into the serving area, her top raised high enough to expose the bottom of her small breasts. Aoshi coughed back a blush at her almost exposure. From the looks on the faces of the other males in the restaurant, Aoshi wasn't the only one who noticed the show- and they were making no move to try and hide it. Instinctively, Aoshi went for his kodachi, only to find nothing but air. He suddenly remembered he was not dressed in his Oniwabannshu attire, but in his regular yukata. Eyeing the men who were now shouting catcalls at Misao, Aoshi made a mental note to start to come to breakfast ready for battle.

Okon passed by Aoshi, carrying a tray. She offered a cheerful, "Good morning Aoshi-sama!" before he noticed her. And only then did he blink and whisper a very somber "hello." A wide smile formed on Okon's lips as she leaned towards Aoshi and loudly whispered, "It seems you noticed Misao-chan's wardrobe change."

Blinking, Aoshi finally brought himself out of the glare of death aimed towards the young man looking very happy to have his order taken from Misao. "Why-is-she-"

"Oh, you should have heard her yesterday, Aoshi-sama," Okon said, with a wave of her free hand. "Going on and on about how hot it was in here and how she thought she was going to melt away. So I suggested a modification."

"You did this?" Aoshi accused, glaring now at Okon.

"The heat did this," she retorted. "I just wanted to make sure our little Misao-chan was comfortable." Okon walked away, shrugging her shoulders. "If you are so uncomfortable with it, perhaps you should go ask her to change, Aoshi-sama," she called as she walked to the table she was serving.

Aiming his eyes toward Misao again, Aoshi angrily asked himself why he hadn't thought of that. Now that it was mentioned to him, it seemed the most obvious thing in the world. So he walked over to her. However, in his state of mind, Aoshi failed to realize that his "walking" was more of a stomping, scaring all of the customers that he passed.

"Morning, Aoshi-sama!" Misao said, beaming up at him. "Would you like some breakfast?"

"Upstairs."

Misao blinked. "Pardon?"

"Upstairs." Aoshi repeated.

"You want your breakfast upstairs?"

"No, I want you to go upstairs."

Cocking her head to one side, Misao studied her Okashira, trying to understand what he was trying to infer. "Why? Am I in trouble?"

"No," Aoshi stated, calmly enough. He was two seconds away from breaking the neck of the boy sitting behind Misao, who was appreciating Misao's butt being so close to his face. Must not kill the paying customers. "I want you to go upstairs and change into clothes that are decent," he finally explained through clenched teeth.

"But Aoshi-sama-"

"Now, Misao."

She stared defiantly into his eyes before turning to leave the restaurant in a huff. "I'm going to speak to Jiya about this-"

As she left, three men stood and followed her, calling out "Ah, Misao-san!"

But Aoshi would have none of that. In three large steps, he caught up with Misao and forcefully grabbed her arm.

"Excuse me-" Misao huffed, trying to weasel her way out of Aoshi's strong grip. But there was no use. It was like an insect fighting against a child.

"You will not disobey me," Aoshi boomed, dragging Misao out of the restaurant area. The men who were enjoying the "presence" of Misao, were now glaring at the tall mysterious man who was dragging her away from them.

"Aoshi-sama!" Misao shouted, relentlessly fighting for control of her arm back. "Aoshi-sama, let me go! I'm not going to change my clothes! It's too hot to wear anything else! Aoshi-sama!" but her calls fell to deaf ears.

When they finally arrived at Misao's room, Aoshi let go of Misao and pointed towards her door. "Change."

"But Aoshi-sama, this is all I-"

"You have your Onimitsu uniform, correct?"

"Well yes, but," she looked to her door. "It's covered in dirt from my morning routine. Omasu-san put it in with the dirty clothes to be washed."

Aoshi's brow furrowed. "There must be something-" and with that he slammed open the door, took the weasel girl by the hand, and drug her into her own room.

"But, Aoshi-sama, why do I have to change?" Misao asked again. As she spoke, Aoshi tore through the wardrobe that held Misao's clothes. "This outfit was doing just fine until-"

"Here," Aoshi said, holding up a dark maroon kimono for Misao. "This will do. Now change."

"Aoshi-sama, this is a winter kimono."

"And?"

"I'll melt," Misao countered in a similar flat tone. "Why can't I wear this?" she said, motioning to the clothes she already had on.

"Because," Aoshi said, furiously throwing the winter kimono to the floor. "They were..." he said in a quiet voice. "They were looking at you."

"Who?" Misao asked, blinking. Clearly, that wasn't the answer she was expecting.

"Those men," Aoshi said, distracted. He had taken to sifting through Misao's wardrobe once again.

"In the restaurant?"

"Yes," Aoshi said, not noticing how feverish his reply was.

A small smile formed on Misao's lips as she leaned her head against Aoshi's back. Frozen in both shock and terror, Aoshi dropped the red hakama in his hand and simply stared wide-eyed at the wall in front of him. "Misao, what-"

She curled her head against his back. "You were jealous."

"You misunderstand," he said, shaking his head. The warmth between the two of them was beginning to spread through his back. "I was merely looking out for your integrity."

"But I don't care if they look-"

"Well I-" Aoshi cut himself off mid-sentence. Misao was right. He was jealous. Jealous of the view she so freely gave them and not him. But that couldn't be right. He cared for her as a mentor, didn't he? It was nothing more.

"Aoshi-sama..."

His heart shouldn't have raced so much at her merely saying his name. But it was, damnit, and it frustrated him to no end. When had these feelings developed? After the ordeal with Enishi? After his return? Before he left?

"Aoshi-sama, I'll put the kimono on if you can do something for me." She took his silence as a yes. "You have to help me put it on."

If it was possible for Aoshi's jaw to drop to the floor, he was quite certain that t would have done so. "No," he said flatly.

"Well," Misao said, standing straight up. "I can't put the kimono on by myself. And we're too busy downstairs to have Okon-san or Omasu-san come up. So it's either you help me, or I go back down in this."

"I forbid you to go back down there dressed as you are," he snapped.

"Then you'll help me," Misao said, leading him in the direction she wanted as she smiled.

Aoshi turned around and glared at the small weasel girl. However, the towering glare of death seemed to have no effect on her. "This is blackmail."

Misao tilted her head. "I wouldn't call it blackmail, Aoshi-sama."

"Then what would you call it, Misao?" She smiled widely at him, but said nothing in a reply. Aoshi bent over and picked up the winter kimono off the floor. "You will have to instruct me on what to do," he said, not believing he was going to actually do this.

"Of course," Misao said, beaming. She then pulled the single tie that was keeping her top together. She stretched her shoulders, letting her top slide completely off. Aoshi turned away, holding out the kimono for her. "Aoshi-sama, you said you would help me."

"I am positive that you can put the kimono part on by yourself. It is simple enough. I shall get your obi-"

Suddenly a small hand cradled against Aoshi's face. "Aoshi-sama, look at me."

"I will not further-" Misao put her hand on top of his mouth to silence him.

"I want you to look at me, Aoshi-sama." He turned his head slowly to face her, uncertain what to do. Now completely naked, Misao stood tall and straight. The only hint if embarrassment that she held was the pink tinge on her cheeks. "Aoshi-sama..." she whispered, causing shivers to go down his spine. Taking both of his hands in hers, Misao pushed his large calloused hands against her breast. He tried pulling away, but then hesitated. "Tell me you weren't jealous," she said, holding back a moan.

He stayed silent, looking at her for a moment before whispering, "I was jealous." With a soft sigh, Aoshi rubbed his thumbs over the nipples of her breasts. They hardened under his gentle touch.

"But I'm all yours, Aoshi-sama," she said, going up on her tip-topes. The lashes on her eyes fluttered as she closed her eyes and pushed her lips together. Unable to stop himself, Aoshi leaned forwards and met her lips with his. The wet kiss promised more things, dirtier things, and it took all of Aoshi's strength to not find out more.

When she finally pulled away from his kiss, Misao smiled. "I can't believe you were actually jealous of those boys, Aoshi-sama," she whispered, tracing her warm fingers against his jaw.

"You sound almost delighted by that," Aoshi chided, taking her hand from his face and kissing the inside of her palm.

"Well, just a little bit," she said as she wrapped her arms behind his neck. "Kiss me again?"

"I thought the restaurant was busy and they needed you downstairs as soon as possible," Aoshi quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Closing her eyes, Misao shrugged. "They'll manage."

Later that night, Misao could be found waiting tables once again, this time dressed in a maroon winter kimono, with a cream colored obi. Her hair was tied up in an elaborate bun, with two decorative sticks that had blue beading sticking out from her hair. When the business had died down for the evening, Okon approached Misao and asked, "Aren't you hot in that, Misao-chan?"

From a table nearby, Aoshi coughed loudly. "Misao, more tea please."

"Coming, Aoshi-sama!" She smiled before rushing into the kitchen to fetch his tea, completely distracted from Okon's inquiry.

Okon looked at Aoshi questionably. "What did you say to Misao-chan that made her change her outfit?"

Putting down the cup of tea he just emptied, Aoshi raised an eyebrow at Okon. "I made it clear to her that it was in her best interest that she change her attire."

"Best interest, huh?" Okon repeated suspiciously as Misao returned to the table.

"Here we are, Aoshi-sama," Misao said as she took the cup from Aoshi's hand.

It didn't go unnoticed to Okon that both Aoshi and Misao's hands lingered for a few moments, touching each other. She smirked and left for the kitchen calling out, "No, I think it was for your best interests, Aoshi-sama."

Aoshi faltered for a moment in his tea drinking.

"What was that about, Aoshi-sama?" Misao asked.

"Nothing," Aoshi said calmly as he put his teacup back on the table. "It is getting late. You should go to bed, Misao."

Lightly running her fingers up his shoulders, Misao leaned towards Aoshi's ear and whispered loudly, "You'll help me get out of this kimono, won't you, Aoshi-sama?"

Playfully glaring at her, Aoshi replied, "Only if you put your serving outfit back on."

Fin

Notes:
There was no real point to this. Was supposed to be a lemon, but then I just couldn't have it make that very crucial turn. So I failed again to answer Kettering's request for a line during sexual intercourse with our favorite pairing. I promise it's coming! I swear!

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