It's growing chillier by the hour, but Misao is determined not to shiver. The biting wind may cut through her short sleeves and bare skin, but a ninja does not show weakness. She cups handfuls of cold earth, squinting for a round ceramic lid.

"Ah! Here!" She exclaims and digs up another jar. "Hannya, we're taking you home, okay?!" She hugs the container, ignoring the bits of dirt and grass root that have fallen on her front, and tries hard not to spill any tears.

"Misao." Aoshi's voice is the only prelude before a soft weight falls on her shoulders. His trench coat, much too large for her, smells fresh and pungent of the Western cologne he's taken a liking to.

"Thank you." She beams, hoping for him to return his smile. His handsome face is stoic and there are dark circles under his eyes. He needs to lighten up, which is why she's extra peppy. The corner of his mouth quivers, and she groans internally. So close! Well, the coat is already enough. It means he cares about her health, doesn't he? Little steps, Misao, she reminds herself.

"We should camp here for the evening." He wraps the three other jars of Beshimi, Hyotoko, and Shikijou in a hemp bag. She hands him Hannya's, and he adds it to the bag as well. "It is almost dusk."

"Eh?!" She hadn't realized, but he's right. "Then, I'll get water."

"I will go with you."

"It's fine, don't worry!"

He frowns and shakes his head. "No, I should accompany you. It would be safer that way."

"Ughhhh." But deep down, she's glad. After all, this is the first time he's sought out her company. She usually has to work for it. Little steps, Misao, one step closer. One step closer to helping him heal.

It will take a long time, but she's willing to face it.


Aoshi keeps an eye out for any sudden movements. Night has fallen, and they're sitting next to each other, feeding the little fire they have. "So, what'll we do, when we're back in Kyoto?" Misao asks.

"Try to help the government. They could make use of the Oniwabanshuu. And," He looks down at his kodachi, polished to shine but still so bloody. "I wish to atone for troubling Himura with my own shortcomings."

Misao blinks at that. "I think you already have, Aoshi-sama. Without you, we never would have realized that Kaoru was alive."

"Hmm." He doesn't fully believe her, yet her words echo in his mind and warm a space in his chest he long thought empty.

"How did you come up with that idea, anyway? I never would have guessed that that wasn't Kaoru!"

To be honest, it was a hunch. No, not even that. He was told the idea, from the ghosts of the people they were carrying with them. It wasn't quite a dream, since he was floating in that hazy area between sleep and consciousness. A hallucination, perhaps. But whatever it was, it kept nagging him.

Are you sure, Aoshi? Beshimi had mused.

She might not be dead, who knows? Hyotoko had snickered.

No one saw the killing blow. Shikijou had muttered.

Maybe, they altered someone's body. It's far too easy. Hannya had added.

He had been skeptical when he woke, but the idea was an incurable itch and the sorrow in the air was suffocating. So, he had gone ahead and pursued the line of thought, looking into all the information he could gather. And in the end, Himura's woman was alive. He couldn't fathom Enishi's ranting and raving about his sister's smile, but once he felt his comrades' ashes in his hands, he thought a faint sense of triumph had vibrated to his fingertips.

Misao is still looking at him, still waiting for an answer. "Logic, Misao." He says at last.

"Whaaaat? I don't believe you! That wasn't logic at all, I thought you were drinking bad sake when you made that suggestion! Tell me the truth!" She berates him and accuses him of keeping secrets, but he doesn't budge.

"Good night. We have a long journey ahead of us." It will be hard work, but he's willing to face it.