Author's Note: Finished all 3 books of Tales of Otori...well if there's more I'm not sure. But dayum! Good reads.

Note: The yunio is the Japanese Engagement Ceremony.

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Chapter 3: Heaven's Drive

You just don't tire of it.
What do you want next ?
I'm almost eaten to the bone
by starving lips unconscious of their sin,
oh leave me alone

The yunio was a blur for Misao, she barely recalled opening the customary gifts of dried cuttlefish, kelp, and thread. Or the beige folded fan with its fine black lacquered wood framing.

Her friends from Tokyo had arrived, sans Megumi, for the ceremony, and if they knew the real reasons behind her whirlwind marriage they were kind enough to keep silent about it.

Now she wore the white kimono of marriage, her hair dampening with sweat underneath the white headdress. Beads of sweat pooled between her shoulder blades and down her back, the cream makeup painted on her face made her feel like she was trapped in porcelain.

That man's porcelain doll.

The tortoise-comb shells pricked her scalp as she tilted her head back and accepted the customary three stacked dishes of sake that were part of the ceremony. She wanted this over, the day to end. She wanted to strip herself of the wedding kimono, scrub off the doll like face make up, and bathe off the oppressive sweat.

The heat had come without warning, much like Aoshi had arrived without warning to Kyoto, and it left Misao dizzy and with a stifled feeling. Her head was lowered, but she peeked out from underneath her lashes to peer at Aoshi. Her new husband.

He was dressed in the traditional black groom kimono with white cranes embroidered on it- the Shinomori family crest. He was not looking at her, rather conversing quietly with Himura. His expression betrayed nothing, and Misao felt frustration arise in her.

"Misao-chan?"

She turned around to see Omasu and Okon standing behind her.

"What is it?"

"Can we have a word with you?"

She nodded, following them to a secluded area of the Shinto shrine where no one could hear them speak.

"Misao..." Okon began, swallowing in nervousness and then regaining her composure, "It's no secret Omasu and myself have explained to you the intimate relations between a man and a woman, but we just wanted to be sure you were really prepared."

"If you have any questions." Omasu added.

Misao made a "hmph" noise and removed her headdress.

"I know all I need to thanks to your words over the years, but I can assure you that particular knowledge will not be of use tonight."

Okon and Omasu blinked.

"You aren't going to...you will deny your husband?"

Misao looked away, out at a pine tree nearby and saw a bird perched on a thick branch.

"Do you see that bird there on the branch? I never thought I'd envy an animal, let alone a bird. Now I find myself wishing I too could fly away, but I have been caged. Thus I will not give that man the satisfaction of a lover."

"Misao, he may..." Omasu began, then closed her mouth.

"Force me? If he wishes to bring the wrath of the clan upon him he will not. I may be powerless in aspects as a woman, but to dishonor me so will bring severe ramifications, let alone what Jiya will do."

The two brunettes nodded and bowed, leaving Misao to be as she watched the bird more in silence.

She heard footsteps and did not turn, she already knew who it was. She watched as the bird flew off before hearing him speak.

"The others are wondering where you are."

"Hmm, and I'm sure you were so worried yourself my dear husband." she said, sarcasm dripping in the false endearment.

Aoshi's mouth was a grim line and it gave Misao slight satisfaction that she was giving him a hard time.

"We should return. It is getting late and soon everyone will want to retire."

She did not say anything, but followed him through the shrine hallway to return to the party.

"You should know, Aoshi-sama, I have no intentions of giving myself to you." she said, her voice low.

He stopped and turned to face her, his cold blue gaze piercing her.

"I recall you saying that once, and then contradicting yourself. You are a liar if you claim to not enjoy my touch. No, Misao, ours will be true marriage in name and body." he murmured, his hand reaching out to graze her chin as he lifted her face.

She hated that she felt a warmth where his fingers touched her face and that she felt her knees would weaken. She did not want to acknowledge any desire for this man who had stolen her freedom, but her body was slowly betraying her.

Jerking her chin free of his grasp, Misao stepped past him.

"I am afraid you are the only one of that opinion."

With that she made quick steps to return to the party, leaving Aoshi in her wake.

He watched her go, gaze narrowed.

So stubborn she was, his new wife. She was a challenge indeed, much more than he realized. He wasn't sure if her tremendous will made him feel a small sense of admiration for her, a sense of frustration.

He couldn't see the little girl she had been anymore, no trace of the child Misao that would cling to his legs and smile widely at him. All he saw more and more was a woman, who one moment he felt like throttling and other making her scream his name in pleasure. Oh he was still incensed over her taking his title and still saw her as a means to reestablish his power, and this was her retribution.

She was his, the title she took would be returned to him within a week, and now she would abide by him, keep his bed warm despite the so-called oppositions she made, and she would provide him with children.

With her blood and his, the Oniwbanshuu clan would grow even stronger and the Okashira title would now run in his family name. He was currently the only left of the Shinomori, and through Misao the Shinomori would be reborn.

It was as simple as that. And it was not.

For this, for the his future and the clan's, he would play the villain, he would contend with a stubborn, unwilling wife, he would ignore the unkind words about him.

He would harden his heart and his resolve. He would be a wall.

And maybe one day they would see what he was doing was for the best.

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Aoshi frowned at the tall man conversing with Misao, recognizing the gleam of the slicked backed hair and the navy uniform. He knew Battousai was aware of the uninvited guest, and saw the red-headed man stick with his friends.

Aoshi remained lingering in the shadows of the temple doorway, faintly overhearing the Mibu wolf bestow congratulations upon Misao at her new marriage.

Lies. The Mibu wolf was here for one reason and one reason only: He had heard that Shinomori Aoshi was back in Kyoto.

Aoshi watched Saitoh tip his hat to Misao and leave, and only after he was gone did Aoshi emerge from the shadows. Misao had a small smile on her face as she turned to look back, her smile faltering when she saw Aoshi descend the steps looking none-too pleased.

Not that he ever did look happy.

He came to stand next to her, glowering down at her petite form.

"That man...is not to be trusted, Misao."

She looked up at him, pursing her lips.

"Who? Fujita-san?"

Aoshi sighed. It figured she wouldn't understand the danger.

"Misao, that man is not who you think he is, he's..."

"Saitoh Hajime, former captain of the Shinsengumi Third Squad and a Mibu Wolf. Married to a Takagi Tokio and father of three sons. He poses as Fujita Goro for police work. Really Aoshi-sama, I'm not as naive as you think." she said tartly, and turned on her heels and walked away.

Aoshi opened his mouth, then closed it.

Misao was...surprising.

The reception ended, the Tokyo-gumi left for their guest rooms at the Aoiya. Aoshi had been talking with Kenshin when Kaoru handed Misao a letter from Megumi. Misao retired to her, no, their room, and opened the letter and blinked as a small packet fell out.

She looked at the paper.

'Misao,

I wish you luck on your marriage, and understand why your groom requested I remain in Tokyo...I regret to say it would have been my preference regardless. I assume your hasty marriage was one probably not of your choice and thus I would not wish you to suffer an unwanted wedding night.

The powder in the packet is a strong sleeping agent. Put a spoonful in Shinomori-san's tea at night and he will fall asleep rather quickly, sparing you from unwanted coupling. I warn you however, there is only enough to last for two weeks.

Be well, Misao. For all his seeming coldness and indifference, I used to suspect that somewhere in there he does have a heart. If anyone can find it, it would be tenacious little Misao.

Megumi'

Misao sighed, and closed the letter giving mental thanks to Megumi. She suspected Aoshi wouldn't force her into anything...but she wasn't too sure he wouldn't try. Better safe than sorry. She quickly fetched the tea making tools and began preparing tea.

Aoshi made his way to their room shortly after, and watched as Misao was on her knees preparing tea.

"Would you care for some tea, Aoshi-sama?" she asked.

He looked her over, her hair now in her usual braid and she was wearing a beige sleeping yukata.

As he sat across from her he noticed her face was clean of makeup, her cheeks tinged lightly pink.

He suddenly wished for her to take her hair down, and was surprised by that impulse. He let the thought go as she handed him the cup, and sipped the tea. It tasted smoky and he didn't really think about it. He didn't want to think.

They drank in silence, Misao glancing up at him every now and again. Probably worried he would try something. Or of what would come. He was confidant in that he attempted to seduce her, she'd resist at first but then give in as she had before.

He yawned, suddenly feeling quite tired. Perhaps it had been the sake at the ceremony, or just the weight of events. He set his cup down and went to stand, his limbs heavy.

"Aoshi-sama, you look tired." Misao commented, setting her tea down. She watched as he made his way to the futon and sat, then fell back.

"Misao..." he began to speak, then felt his eyes close.

Misao waited until she heard his breathing steady, and was assured he was alseep. Lifting her tea cup to her lips, she leisurely finished her tea, looking out at the open window she heard the chirp of crickets and distant rustle of chimes.

Two weeks...she could prevent him for two weeks...

After that, she was on her own.

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:collapses:

I need my shishkabobs to cook quicker.