Disclaimer: If I owned it, do you think i'd be writing fanfiction about it?

Author's NOTE : Ok... so here's something that fell half deformed from my mind. Things never come out as they should. Enjoy as much as you can. Oh and if you don't get it. this is a SEQUEL to Silence. You don't have to read it to get this one, but it's preferred. Well on with the story...

Madness

She felt like she was much older than she really was. She felt middle aged and tired of the world. Misao had grown and learned so much in the years that she had spent exploring. But as always her heart was elsewhere and she no longer wore it on her sleeve. Misao was quitting her days of being a wanderer; she had enough of the day-to-day life. Her feet were ready to carry her back to the path that she had strayed from so many years ago. They itched with impatience to bring her to the Aoiya – to bring her back home – to bring her back to him.

How long ago was it that she left him, she couldn't really remember. The days all seemed to run and meld together, when one doesn't really have a purpose. Misao remembers with clarity the day she left him, she couldn't stay in the same house with him when he still had those demons that consumed him daily. She was so afraid they would envelope her as well.

That night when she didn't sleep under the same roof as Aoshi, her own demons raged against her sanity. They demanded to be released, they sought for Aoshi, and they clamored for him. She buried her face in the pillow through the whole night, as she tried to muffle the sounds of her bitter cries, of the sound of sacrifice. That very night, Aoshi's demons quelled and he slept soundly for the first night, for other things were eating at his mind

The dust clung to her skin, something she had always hated as she walked within the limits of Kyoto. The city remained ageless. It seemed that she was the only thing that had change, for the better or worse she wasn't quite sure. A torrent of memories that she had tried so long to suppress came rushing out of the gates, and she had forgotten why she had left the city in the first place. It warmed her heart to be where she was supposed to be and without even looking at the street names – her feet instinctively showed her the way home.

The smell of food cooking besieged her senses and tears filled her eyes. So long she had been gone, too long without even a proper goodbye. She wondered about a million things. She wanted to know if Omasu and Hiko ever got together or if Okina was still a pervert. But most of all, she wanted to know if he was still the same person, if her leaving was for nothing, if it was a waste. Misao lingered at the footsteps at the Aoiya, fearful of what would happen if she walked in. Things were so different now; she was no longer a child, no longer 18 and blindly in love.

There was the sound of approaching footsteps, lightly crunching against the gravel.

Aoshi walked out of the Aoiya and there she was – an image of an ethereal being standing on the front steps of the building, unsure if she really wanted to waltz back into their lives again. She looked different, six long years had passed and now she had just shown up at of the clear blue. He continued to look at her, wanted to ask a million questions, wanted to know where she had been and the true reason why she left.

She bit her lips and spoke barely above a whisper, her tongue was laden with the words she has so long waited to mutter. She had anticipated this moment from the very beginning of her existence. She wanted him to hear –

"Aoshi, I-"

"Why Misao? Why did you leave us? Why did you leave me?" The words burned Aoshi's mouth and Misao was shocked by the interruption.

" You know why, I told you already" Her words sounded harsh against both of their ears. Harshness gained from someone who had seen the face of the cold world, a truthfulness that was blunt and acrid.

A gasp startled the both of them.

Behind Aoshi stood the whole Aoiya group. They had shown up one by one. Tears rimmed the eyes of Okina, Omasu, and Okon while the others stood breathless.

So afraid that if they moved, she would disappear and leave them again.

Okina walked slowly to her, careful and cautious, and then finally embraced her. As the other members in the group let out a jubilant yell and ran to hug Misao. They gathered and ushered her inside of the Aoiya- away from the dust and he was left alone again.

He was left to stare at the spot she had stood in, stared in disbelief. She had left their lives shattered and broken and now she had come back again like a storm, breezing in at her own will. For the first time in his life, he had realized how painful it was to be left behind to clean up the mess. Aoshi wondered if things would ever be the same.

He listened to their chatter and he heard the distinctive laughter of Misao, and his heart faltered a beat.

Omasu was busily slicing the eggplant while Kuro was steaming the rice. The Aoiya had long closed and little paper lanterns were lit to provide light as well as a dreamy disposition.

Outside the crickets were chirping lazily and fireflies glowed.

Misao smiled warmly as she began to set the table, as she had always done before and at once she felt like she was only 18 again, without a worry in the world. She could feel Okina sneaking up on her. She swirled around and greeted him,

"You know it's not nice to sneak up on people you old perv! "

Okina chuckled and his eyes gleamed mischievously. He grabbed his chest and yelled,

"How could you treat me so! My dear Misao, I have raised you from a baby and now this is how you pay your respect! I am very well behaved, mind you!"

Okina stroked his beard and laughed, and as quickly as he had shown up, his demeanor changed from carefree to serious; he looked imploringly at her and pulled Misao down to sit next to him. Okina looked around to see if any of the other Aoiya occupants were listening or even paying attention.

"Misao, we have missed you. Our hearts left when you did. Maybe leaving was not the best idea. We respected you and thus did not look for you. When you are ready, I hope you will enlighten the rest of us as to why you left so mysteriously. Misao, the Aoiya residents suffered greatly from your absence but perhaps the one that suffered the most was Aoshi."

Misao stared at her hand and didn't look at Okina during the conversation. She knew what she did was not the greatest idea but it was the best option at the time.

In the background, they could hear Omasu yell that dinner was ready. Misao stood up and offered Okina a warm smile,

"Jiya, don't worry I will tell you all in due time."

Okina nodded his understanding and together they walked to the dinner table. They were greeted with numerous noises of Kuro and Okon slurping their soup and Omasu telling everyone about her adventures with Hiko. But the only person that wasn't contributing to the overall conversation was Aoshi. He sat there in his gloomy and dark stature. He ate and barely looked up from his bowl.

Aoshi would once in a while, compliment Okon or Omasu on a well-cooked dish, but other than those rare comments, he kept to himself. Misao couldn't help but stare at him throughout dinner. The dinner conversation remained polite and easy-going.

"Misao?"

Okon's questioning voice broke Misao from her gaze. Misao quickly glanced in the direction of the voice. Okon cleared her throat and took a deep breath,

"Misao, we just wanted to know if you had fun on your urrrhh… journey?"

Misao let out a sigh, relieved that Okon had not asked her why she was staring at Aoshi so hard, and grateful for the fact that no one other than Okon or Omasu would've noticed. Misao then glanced around and beamed Okon a smile,

"Of course I did! I saw so many awesome sights! I also met a lot of interesting people. There was this man I had met that was from this small country somewhere south of Japan and he had with him about a million monkeys! The monkeys knew how to juggle and were incredibly intelligent," Misao giggled and let out a delighted squeal, " They were all very well trained too! Then I met another man from England and ohhhh his candies were just absolutely to die for! He such weird instruments with him! Not to mention the fact that I also worked at an apothecary for a while too!"

The group stared at her in awe and started asking her questions left and right. Who else did you meet? Did you hear that Kaoru is pregnant again? Did you ever get to see their first child? Did you ever stop by to see Megumi and Sano? Do you know that Tsubame and Yahiko are dating? The questions came so fast Misao barely had time enough time to answer one before another question came flying at her.

Eventually the questions died down and they resumed their polite dinner conversation, until Okina received an evil glint in his eyes and turned towards Misao, the person receiving the intended malice.

"So, we've heard all these stories about all these interesting men you have met Misao," Okina slyly stated, " did you … ever find these men more than … interesting?"

Misao blushed at the insinuation.

There was a pause and Misao mumbled her ambiguous reply.

Aoshi looked down towards his bowl of rice. The atmosphere swiftly became suffocating. His fingers clenching the chopsticks as his appetite subsided and the rice that was already in his mouth began to taste bitter. His ears strained to hear her response and at the same time trying to blur the sound of her voice into nothingness. He heard Misao's indistinct voice against the roaring of the background.

Everyone looked over to Aoshi and his thinly veiled anger and annoyance.

There was a cough, a stir in the air. The pleasant evening became suddenly stale and overdone.

Everyone quietly continued the uncomfortable dinner. Each of occupants of the Aoiya, raced the other to finish and to leave the awkward silence behind.

Misao sat there as one by one of her beloved family left her. Except -- Aoshi. He sat there with his pensive stare, not at her but at his bowl of rice.

She wondered what he had found so interesting in the rice bowl as to continually stare at it so furtively, but she figured it was probably an excuse not to converse with her. She had wished she had taken the same action of the other members and left quickly, but as always she was less instinctive and was always the last to leave and the first to be left behind.

She fidgeted around the dinner table as the tatami mat underneath her became itchy.

tap

She looked and saw that Aoshi had set his chopsticks on the table. He didn't even look up. His bowl of rice was half-eaten.

"Aoshi –"

She paused, what was she going to say. She couldn't just explain why she had left so abruptly; it was just too complicated and messy. She couldn't apologize because- well what was there to apologize about? How could she pick up a stagnating relationship that was already worn and threadbare to begin with? She had left too long ago, to start off anew. To some degree, she was worse off now than she was before.

"Aoshi. It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Six years." Misao was startled at his response, had it been really six years? He remembered. He had counted.

" I was young and foolish back then, and I had a lot of obligations and I-," She was flustered, what could she say without sounding stupid or selfish?

"Obligations? What obligations?" Aoshi inquired as he finally looked up and watched Misao.

His stare was too intimidating, all these years gone, and she still quelled beneath his gaze.

"I had to leave you- I just had to-"

"You HAD to?" His voice cold and crisp in the hot summer night, never had it been this loud before, never had it resonated thus through Misao's body. She was frightened, slightly mortified by his change.

He leaned over, their faces barely an inch apart.

Her lips parted.

"You're not the same." She whispered. Her eyes washing over his face and re-memorizing something that she had long gone forsaken.

He staid still, unmoving – half anticipating and half dreadful of the unknown.

Aoshi then leaned even further across the table, his lips barely centimeters away from her ear. His soft breathe tickling ear as he murmured," I'll never be the same."

She gasped, and reached for him, but stopped short.

He had drawn his hands back, as if she was about to touch something vile. Revulsion muddled his eyes. He didn't want her to touch him. He was unclean, tainted still.

The distance widened between them. There was the ocean and them. Her eyes full of confusion, as they darted to his face, but as always it was an impassable fortress, she couldn't find anything in his features.

Misao sat back stiffly in her seat, hands clasped tightly together, the paleness of her skin nearly a translucent white as it was stretched over her knuckles. She was angry, embittered by such a reaction.

She bit the inside of her cheek, leaving impressionable marks on them. Her tongue tasted the metallic substance of blood.

She knew at that instance, nothing had changed, but somewhere between the walls incased full of dying dreams, something had fluttered for a second, had lived, perhaps a love that could have been given a protracted existence. But whatever had breathed life into it, wilted and now there were only faded remnants of something that could have been. She wondered resentfully if this had been her doing, or her undoing – it didn't matter anymore.

Nothing had changed, but it wasn't the same.

There was an awkward silence, a palaple tension.

"I searched for you." He stated quietly, not even looking at her.

"I waited but you did not return, so I searched."

"Where?" She inquired, feigning disinterest.

He gaze landed on the hand that he had abruptely taken from Misao's touch.

"Everywhere. But I guess when one doesn't want to be found- one stays forever hidden."

There was a sigh, and a heaving of shoulders.

This time when she reached for his fingers he didn't move. He let her fingers slide like water between his – and for the time being it stills his madness.

If you enjoyed please R & R. I need to know what i did wrong. Things kinda fall apart when I write...