I am horrified at myself. I cannot believe that it has taken me this long to update – that is simply ridiculous. I am so terribly sorry, and hope I have no lost all of my interested readers.

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Little Promised Child

Chapter Three: The Sea

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"I don't want to go!" Misao cried, figuring that maybe he would get it through his thick skull on her thirteenth repetition.

"Yes, Misao," Aoshi replied in a very condescending tone, "I hear you. But the war is over, and you are to return to where you and I shall live and eventually rule. It's not a difficult concept, is it?"

"I am not going! Is that a difficult concept?" Misao glared, stepping back and getting ready to run.

He grabbed her arm, his grasp incredibly powerful. Misao had only known a few men in her life, as far as she could remember. None of them had ever made physical contact with her, and she was startled by his strength. Aoshi wrenched her around, forcing her close to him his face just inches from her own. "You are going. You will get on that ship, and you will cease this incessantly annoying whining this instant."

Misao felt the colour draining from her cheeks. She didn't like to be frightened, she tended to pride herself on being blindly brave no matter what the situation. But now, staring into Aoshi's icy eyes and at the receiving end of quite a lot of anger, Misao felt herself cringe. She actually flinched.

Trying to recover herself, voice still shaking, she managed, "W-well fine," Misao tried to tone her voice as bored and arrogant as she could manage, trying to make the two words read, Only because you're being such an arrogant brute that I shall humour you for now lest you burst into tears like a big baby.

Obviously he didn't read that, as Aoshi simply nodded and let her go, turning her toward the ship with a hand in the small of her back, "Then come along."

Misao bit her lower lip hard, and let him lead her up into the ship. It was a nice ship – very clean and well-organized. The men aboard were fully dressed and didn't leer, like the men she'd read about in her books. Of course, she amended, This isn't a pirate ship, Misao.

In fact, a few of the men even smiled at her politely and waved. She decided that they looked nice and smiled right back with a wave. Aoshi caught her hand as she started to lower it, "Don't wave," He muttered reproachfully, "It's beneath your station."

Misao was beginning to wonder exactly how long it was going to take her to smack him really hard upside the head. Beneath my station? Just to spite him, glaring right at him the whole time, she raised the hand he didn't have captured in his own and waved once more.

To her delight, Misao saw a muscle in his jaw leap with the effort it took him not to yell at her. But he didn't shout. She was impressed, yet again – she hadn't been shouting at him, either.

Their battle of patience was brought abruptly to an end when a tall man with brown hair, so spiked it looked like he had just cut it with a weed-whacker, gelled it, and tied it with a red ribbon for effect, made his way over with a roguish grin. "Good morning, My Lady." He greeted.

Misao had to admit that, had she not been in Aoshi's presence, his voice might have made her blush. Nevertheless, Aoshi was there and being impressed by a voice was the last thing on her mind. "Hi." She muttered abruptly.

"I am Sanosuke Sagara-Shinomori."

"That's a mouthful." Misao replied, eying him, "Shinomori?"

"Yes, Aoshi here is my brother. By marriage, not blood – could you imagine having to look like him? I'm much more handsome."

Misao thought she might have seen Aoshi's eyes narrow ever-so-slightly. It was a battle to get a reaction out of him, and Misao was impressed by Sanosuke's ability. "You look like a rooster." She commented. The most random thing she could have ever said. It even took her aback.

"Yeah? And you look like a weasel. Got a name to go with that?" Sanosuke replied without even missing a bit.

Liking him more and more, Misao replied, "Misao Makimachi…Shinomori." It hit her right then that she was married to the block of ice standing next to her, that mister stick-up-butt was her husband. Eep.

Well, of course, it wasn't the first time this had occurred to her...but it was definitely the most shocking. She didn't like this idea. Misao wanted to go back and change things. Aoshi scared her.

"Yes," Aoshi interrupted her rambling tangentry of thought sharply enough that Misao started a bit. "Well." Her jerking had apparently interrupted his growling. He glanced at her for a moment before letting her hand go, "If you would lead her to the cabin, Sanosuke, I would appreciate speaking with the captain."

With that, he bowed his head to Misao and marched away. Aoshi didn't walk – he marched. Back straight, knees lifting, the whole kit and caboodle. It was most frustrating.

Now that she thought about it…what was a 'caboodle'?

Sanosuke offered his arm, "Well then, Lady Misao, let us take you to the cabin."

The cabin, hmmm? They were being awfully specific in their phrasing.

"Is there a chance," Misao inquired as she accepted his arm, "That Lord Aoshi is to be sharing this cabin?"

Sanosuke glanced down at her for a moment before a grin broke his serious look, "Yep," He replied lightly, "The Prince shall be sharing the cabin with you. Is this a problem? After all; you are married."

If the fact that she was married to Aoshi came up one more time, Misao was going to break something.

Sulkily, Misao snapped, "Fine."

Sanosuke smirked down at her but did not comment, leading her below the deck and down a pair of halls. At the end of the second, he bowed as much as the corridor would allow and opened the door, "Your accommodations, my lady."

Misao glared at him, "Not funny." And without ceremony she stalked in and slammed the door in his face. She was pretty sure she heard it thunk a bit more than it should have, and an extra curse. This made her feel a bit better.

Looking around the room, Misao took in a bed that was larger than those she had imagined while reading her books. It was covered in what looked to be very expensive sheets and blankets. There was a chest of drawers on one side of the room, a mirror above them. The mirror showed that her hair was coming out of the braid, her face was covered in dirt, and her clothes were quite the mess.

Misao groaned. Great. She came onboard with someone looking as cool and calm and collected as Aoshi, looking like that. Some princess she was.

Sighing, she removed the ribbon from her hair. It untwined from the braid like something possessed, whipping out until it was a mass of wavy hair that brushed the floor. Moving to the drawers, she peeked within. Bingo! Removing the brush from the drawer, Misao tossed it on the bed and hesitated at the washbasin to clean the dirt from her face, neck, and hands.

Sitting on the bed, facing the small window beside it, Misao began to work the brush through her hair. It was incredibly hard…she'd never had to do it herself before. Her hair was much longer than she'd ever imagined.

Groaning, Misao shifted, now just yanking at her hair which did nothing but tangle it more.

Cold fingers gently caught her wrist and removed the brush. "Allow me." Aoshi murmured from behind her. Misao felt her heart skip several beats, startled nearly out of her skin.

That was the last time she sat with her back facing a door. Ever.

"Alright." Was all she replied, feeling him gather all of her hair and spread it behind her, before running the brush through it. He was good at this brushing thing, and Misao felt herself relaxing. Perhaps she could put up with him if he promised to brush her hair more often.

"You have very long hair." Aoshi observed, sounding startled.

Thank you, Captain Obvious. "Yes, I do." Misao agreed, "I've never cut it. The braid is my favourite way of taming it – I'd probably hack it all off if I had to wear it loose."

"It is very nice, however. Perhaps you'd wear it loose every so often?"

Misao wondered if she was actually blushing. "I-I suppose." She agreed, promising herself that she wasn't going to braid it for the rest of the day.

Aoshi placed the brush beside her, "Your things are in the trunk beside the drawers." And with that, he was gone.

Well, so much for the great bonding moment.

Misao got up, feeling her hair tumble down her back in a silky wave. For all of its being a pain in the neck, she had to admit that her hair was superb after it had been brushed.

Making her way to the trunk, Misao peeked within. Oh! Oh! A normal kimono was on the very top!

With a squeal she removed it, closing the trunk and dancing about with the gown. She'd been so afraid they'd let the Madame choose all of her clothing, and that she would end up with a hundred formal kimonos.

Eying the kimono, she noted that it was an ice-blue colour with short enough sleeves that she'd actually be able to use her hands.

Misao grinned and with no preamble stripped out of the ruined kimono she wore, plopping it – neatly folded, of course! – atop the trunk. Sliding the other on, she breathed a deep sigh of relief.

It was made of something silky, and it made her just generally feel better. Who said clothes didn't solve anything? Probably the same idiot who said 'The customer is always right'.

Warm and clean, Misao made her way to the door. She opened it, and barely muffled a startled yelp when she saw Sanosuke standing there, hand poised to knock.

"Ah. M'Lady." He stammered for a moment, obviously thrown off by the fact that the girl's fist had nearly hit his nose before she'd recognized him and pulled back, "…Um. Oh! Aoshi. Aoshi wanted me to take you on a tour. He said something like 'If I try to confine her, the girl will probably jump off the side of the ship'." Sanosuke gave his best dashing grin.

Misao stared at him for a moment, before a slow grin lit across her face, "I bet he did. And he's right. I would have hopped right off the side." She laughed.

"I would have really loved to have seen you swimming back to shore and seen the look on Aoshi's face. But we've been out for about fifteen minutes now…you probably wouldn't make it back."

"Fifteen minutes? Really? Why am I not sea-sick?" Misao wondered, confused. She hadn't even really noticed the ship moving much.

"You will be when we hit open sea. Right now we're still close to port – the waves aren't rattling us around as much."

"Oh. Well, that's comforting." Misao sighed.

Sanosuke chuckled and offered his arm once more. Upon taking it, Misao was led through the hallways and back on deck.

Two hours later, Misao knew the boat from bow to stern to starboard to port to plank to mainsail. She was tired.

"Okay. I want to go to bed." She muttered, letting Sanosuke's arm go for the umpteenth time. He didn't seem willing to let her walk around without a physical escort. Misao was tired of holding his arm.

Aoshi seemed to materialize in front of them, "Ah, but it is lunch time." He chided.

"Lunch?" Eating. Eating in front of Aoshi. This meant she had to eat like…a civilized young lady. Oh, blast. Misao decided to plead the fifth, "I'm sorry to disappoint…but I am beginning to feel a bit nauseas. And…um…seasick. So perhaps…another time." With that said she retreated back to the room and lay upon the bed after locking the door, fiddling with some of her hair.

Misao had to admit to being slightly pleased when she saw Aoshi's eyes light up a bit at her loose hair. She also, now, had to admit to being irritated by how much static had come from the salt-spray.

A knock came from the door, "Misao. Come eat." Aoshi demanded.

"I'm not hungry!"

"It wasn't a request!"

"I am not eating!" Misao snarled.

Aoshi's fist slammed into the door with a resounding sound, "Open the damn door!"

Misao glared. Oh. No. He did not. Just.

She jumped to her feet, running to push her trunk in front of the door. "Go away!"

"I will break this door down!"

"No you won't! Leave me alone!" Misao shouted.

"You're being unreasonable!" She heard him slam against the door – a heavy slam, like he'd run his shoulder into it.

"You're ramming into the door and screaming at me for not eating, and I'm unreasonable?" She shouted back.

"YES!" Aoshi hollered, hitting the door again.

Misao looked about frantically. A rug! Who put rugs in a room without a purpose? Heading over, she brushed it aside. Ah-ha!

A trapdoor.

She opened it, grunting at the weight, and position the rug to fall back into place as she closed the door.

It came down with a muffled thud, covered by Aoshi's slamming into the door again, and Misao scrambled down the short ladder to the damp ground.

Peering around, she realized two things. One – it was really dark. Two – there was nowhere else to go.

Oh.

And one more thing.

She wasn't alone.