Simple Act Of Bravery

By

Chibijem

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters herein with the exception of Yukiharu and Mikiko and am making no financial gain from this work of fiction.

A/N: This idea popped into my head and begged to be written. I thought it amusing that Aoshi being afraid of very little, would have such a fear. I hope you enjoy it. Dedicated to my Imoto-san with much love.

Shinomori Aoshi was lounging in a hammock at the back of the private quarters of the Aoiya, his month old daughter laying on his broad, muscular chest. He looked down the length of his body and smiled at the small bundle. Mikiko was a miracle to him; he was happy with his son, Yukiharu but deep down he had wanted a daughter with Misao's eyes and exuberance. His wish had come true as Miki-chan had her mother's sapphire eyes. Her exuberance was another matter which was why he was resting in the middle of the afternoon: his daughter had had a very restless night and kept both her parents up. "Ne, Miki-chan? Be good tonight and let your Okaasan and Otousan sleep?" He asked laying his head back down and cradling her in one large palm against his chest. She seemed to love that position and he thought she liked hearing a heartbeat.

It was half and hour into his nap when he was roused by the sound of his son's voice loudly complaining. He focused and could hear snatches of the conversation. It seemed as if Misao had finally cornered their son and was attempting to give him his first haircut. He felt for his son, but the child's hair was getting quite long. He, himself, hated having his hair cut. He reached a hand up and fingered his own long strands of silky hair which just brushed his wide shoulders. He felt his daughter shift and carefully sat up, her bottom supported by his hand. "Shall we go investigate?" He asked, looking down into eyes richer than the sky.

He was about to slide open the shoji when it was shoved aside and his son, Yukiharu collided with his legs. "Where are you running off to?" Aoshi asked. He looked up and saw Misao approaching. "Yukiharu?"

At the stern expression on his father's face not to mention the warning he heard in the voice which called his name, he looked down at his feet. "Demo, Otousan. Why can't I let my hair grow out? It's not hurting anything."

"You need to have it trimmed." Aoshi countered, shifting his precious bundle to his shoulder, rubbing the tiny back. "And you woke your Imoto and I." He added, knowing his son's devotion to his sister. He grimaced when said female yanked at his long hair. He turned his head and saw his daughter was sucking on a handful of the black silky strands. "Iie, Miki-chan. I think we can find something better for you to eat." He said with a smile, trying gently to pull her tiny hands out of his hair.

"You need a trim too, Otousan." Misao said with a smile, teasing him a bit. She knew how much pride he took in being a father.

"It's fine," he argued, a sinking feeling starting in his stomach. He looked down when he felt his son tug at his hakamas. He could see the thought expressed in eyes much like his own. "It's fine." He reiterated.

"Aoshi," Misao began. "If Yuki-chan sees it doesn't hurt, he'll allow me to cut his own." Misao proposed.

Seeing her usually stoic husband look down at their firstborn, she grinned to herself. She had planned this, knowing if it involved Yuki, Aoshi would allow most everything and knowing his dislike for having his hair trimmed, would kill two birds with one stone. "Won't you Yuki-chan?"

Yukiharu looked from his mother to his father. If his father did something, he wanted to do the same. "Hai."

Aoshi felt his stomach hit his feet and knew he was doomed. Sighing he closed his eyes in resignation, "Fine." In a few short minutes he was sitting inside the family quarters with a towel over his shoulders, bracing himself to face the scissors Misao held. He looked over to see Yukiharu sitting with his sister in his lap. "Carefully." He cautioned. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, seeing Misao coming towards him.

"I will miss your long hair, but I saw no other way to convince Yuki-chan to let me cut his." She whispered in his ear before pressing a kiss there.

Aoshi nodded, a shiver running down his back at the caress Misao had bestowed on him. He felt her small hands running through the long, thick length of his hair and then the scissors snipping away. When she was finished, he ran his own fingers through the shortened strands. He then looked at his son, "Your turn." He told him, reaching down to take his daughter back.

"See, Yuki-chan? Your Otousan survived, he was very brave; it won't hurt a bit." Misao assured her son. She then looked over, startled to hear Miki-chan crying. She saw Aoshi's concern. "She probably doesn't recognize you with your hair shortened." She told him, moving to his side. "She'll miss your hair too." She said softly, reaching out to caress one small, downy cheek. "Talk to her and she'll know it's you." While she cut and trimmed their son's hair, she listened to Aoshi talk to their daughter and then start telling a story to both their children, mostly to comfort Miki and keep Yuki's mind occupied.

She laid the scissors aside and brushed the cut hair away, "All done. And it didn't hurt a bit." She laughed when her son practically bounced off the chair as if he was on fire. "You may go." She told him, laughing again when he raced out of the room; she then turned back to Aoshi, who was trying not to laugh. "He inherited your dislike of having your hair trimmed."

"Hmmmmmmm, he had to get something from me." He agreed. "Gomen ne, koiishi."

"Ii," She reassured him, laying a hand on his broad back, rubbing the muscles there. "He's perfect just like his father." She stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to the back of his neck. She smiled against the soft skin when she felt him shiver. "You'll have to wait for your reward for letting me cut your hair." She told him; they had not resumed lovemaking as she had not completely healed from giving birth to Mikiko.

"May I have a preview?" Aoshi asked turning his head, a gleam in his eyes.

Misao pressed kisses over his face when he leaned down, ending at his lips. "Aishteru, anata." She pulled back to look into his emerald eyes. "Arigatou for your simple act of bravery."

FIN

A/N Part II: This did not turn out how I thought it would, but then when do stories ever turn out the way we plan them. Again I hope you enjoyed this ficlet.