Her eyes were laughing.

In the days that followed their evening in the temple, he would catch her at moments like this.

Random moments when she'd be either taking a tray of tea, sake or miso soup out to the guests.

And her eyes were sparkling.

Laughing.

He wondered to himself; was it something in the autumn air?

Was it the constant jokes and pranks of Shiro and kuro that had her sweet bell-like laughter bubbling over?

Was it Jiya's typical crass and inappropriate innuendos?

Aoshi cringed; he hoped Misao would have sense enough not to encourage the old man's indecent behavior.

Perhaps it was just Misao being Misao. But then there was always more obnoxious laughter to be had on her 'typical' days—not that Aoshi minded it but she certainly never had much of a tendency for restrained happiness; everything Misao ever did or reveled in was always over the top and to the fullest. She never held anything back.

He'd always—loved that about her.

Just then, the constant subject—or rather obsession—of this thoughts made an appearance again, this time, both hands laden down with very full trays of sake and miso soup. She tiptoed, twisted and turned her way carefully through the crowded dining hall. She paused several times to greet regular customers and friends and even at one point, she tossed her head to the side—her long fishtail braid swishing behind her—and flashed a dazzling smile at some of the fisherman and their families who were presently celebrating the birthday of one of their youngest children, Hibiki. He was an adorable chubby-cheeked boy of 3 and Misao absolutely adored him. She had been there when he was born and the family often brought him to the Aoiya to spend the day with her while they went to town and ran errands.

Aoshi settled against his semi-secluded place near the doorway; leaning his tall, sturdy frame against the wall, and just watched her.

She had delivered all her orders and presently came back to the fisherman's table and greeted Kenji and his wife. Just then, Hibiki—spying Misao on the other side of his parents—practically leapt out of his seat beside his mother, squealing with glee and landed in Misao's arms.

Misao teetered only slightly, surprised at the child's sudden appearance but her shock quickly turned to bright smiles and radiant laughter as she swung the little boy up in the air, sending him into peals of laughter. Her own laughter mixed with his as her bright spray-green eyes danced as she cuddled and cooed the baby.

Aoshi's eyes widened. He had never seen Misao in this element; her genuine pleasure and deep affection for this child were obvious and the way Hibiki responded to her, it was obvious the child loved her dearly and she, him. Aoshi felt warmth and pride blooming in his chest as well as a thread of curious wonder and excitement. Misao clearly loved children and doubtlessly wanted some of her own—although she had never verbalized this to him or anyone, the longing and desire was evident in the way her fingers lingered just a moment longer on Hibiki as she reluctantly let him back into the arms of his mother. Her eyes lingered for a few moments more on the happy family and the animated light in them dimmed ever so slightly as her right hand strayed and came to rest against her stomach if only for a moment.

Aoshi felt for her—and something inside him awakened and he longed to see Misao happy and fulfilled with a child of her own.

Just then, their eyes connected.

Misao's eyes widened for a moment when she noticed him watching her intently from across the way. That hadn't spoken much since that evening at the temple only a few nights ago but something had definitely shifted between them and moments such as this were becoming vastly more frequent.

She would be going about her daily duties; serving customers, Helping Okon or Omasu in the kitchen, serving the evening meals or cleaning and out of nowhere she would catch Aoshi watching her from a distance—whether it was across the room as he was now, or from his end of the dinner table or even on the few occasions he'd accompanied her into town. He always walked at least two paces ahead of her and seemed to pay little attention to the items she purchased but every now and then, her eyes would be inspecting a piece of merchandise she was considering and suddenly she'd raise her gaze to find his piercing azure gaze fixed upon her—intensely and earnestly.

Just like now.

Her ocean green eyes glanced in his direction again; he was still looking at her—and she thought she detected the shadow of amusement sparkling in his icy blue eyes.

Her cheeks flushed red.

Every now and then, I see a part of you I've never seen

Birds can swim and fish can fly

The road is long, I wonder why

One of these days you'll realize what you mean to me

Oh, every now and then I see a part of you I've never seen

She couldn't hold his stare.

Her cheeks were flaming and she felt a terrible flutter in her stomach.

Butterflies.

"What—what's with me today?" she tried to shake the unsettling excited tingling feeling that was spreading from her chest all the way down to the tips of her toes.

Every now and then, I try to tell you just how I feel

Heavens talk, the rain begins, the sky turns black

Nobody wins

Well, I try to talk but I can't

My soul has turned to steel

This happens every now and then when I try to tell you just how I feel

After she'd finished delivering the last tray of orders, Omasu asked her to go out back and see if she could pick a few more bunches of Oregano and Parsley for the soup.

Misao nodded and taking out a large semi-shallow wooden bowl, she walked back out to the dining hall and headed for the side door that lead to their herb garden. Her cheeks heated again when she felt Aoshi's eyes following her and for some odd reason, she couldn't suppress the girlish smile that spread across her lips. Her eyes flickered to him almost instinctually just as she exited and watching his eyes connect with hers almost immediately only served to increase her bashful smile and reddening cheeks.

So if you ever love somebody

You gotta' keep them close

When you lose grip of their body

You'll be falling

'Cause I'm falling

Deeper in love

Once in the garden, she set to work with harvesting the needed herbs. She felt uncommonly happy and exhilarated today and though she was tempted to dispute it, deep down she knew it had everything to with her handsome, dark blue-eyed Okashira. She stretched up from her bent over position and wiped her forehead with the back of her sleeve; it was an unusually warm day for early fall but she didn't mind; the combination of the radiating sunshine and crisp fall aromas floating carried on the breeze, gave her a pleasant warmth spreading outward from the center of her body and a warm smile graced her lips. Just then, she finished harvesting the last of the Parsley herbs and turned around to head back inside.

She'd only gone a few steps when something off to the side of the stone path, caught the hem of her kimono and she catapulted forward, the bowl of herbs slipping from her grasp.

A pair of strong arms broke her fall and she collided head first into a broad, muscled chest.

The black material of the gi smelled of the forest—and green tea.

Misao gulped and her face burned several shades of red from the base of her neck all the way up to her hairline as she stood up shakily and met the eyes of her 'rescuer'.

In love

Deeper in love

In love

"A-Aoshi-sama! Comen na sai; I didn't see you—I wasn't paying attention."

The tall Okashira looked down at Misao; flushed face, bright eyes and a little disheveled from her near-fall.

She looked absolutely breathtaking; he couldn't deny it or ignore it. Her pale pink kimono stood out beautifully against her pale complexion but it also enhanced the presently flushing cheeks and brought out the animated sparkle in her eyes. "Nothing to apologize for, Misao—you were about to fall and it was I who stood in your path—purposely I must confess; I didn't want you to hurt yourself."

She straightened up a little more, dusting off her kimono—which wasn't dirty in the slightest bit—but she suddenly felt the need to preoccupy herself with something other than the handsome lines of Aoshi's countenance and his intense azure orbs.

"Well I—t-thank you for helping me—I er um—breaking my fall, that is—"

He watched her carefully; she seemed flustered and a little disoriented and he could hear her unsteady breathing and detect her pulse going a little erratic. "Perhaps her near fall jolted her more than expected…" Instant concern gripped him and discarding the bowl of herbs on the nearby stone wall, he took Misao by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "Misao…look at me."

She hesitated. "I'm alright I just—"

He cut her off gently, cupping her chin and tilting it upwards till her eyes met his. "Misao…you seem a bit overly flustered, are you hurt? I'm sorry if I surprised or jolted you…"

The feeling of his fingers against her skin was enough to make her whole body tremble and her cheeks heated an even brighter red. "Oh this is humiliating, there's no possible way he can't see the heat in my cheeks! If he had just kept his damned hands to himself…!"

Her breath grew slightly ragged and she wrapped her fingers around his wrist, attempting to carefully pry his fingers away from her face—before she lost complete control of herself. "just when I think I've got the hang of this—then he has to go and…damn you, Aoshi why can't I resist the way I feel for you?"

"Please I—I'm perfectly fine…" She managed to release his hold on her; gentle though it was, just the smallest touch of him, sent her into a flustered and agonizing frenzy of uncontrollable shivers. "I—it's just—I was, well you startled me—a little, when I fell into your—that is against you when I—" This was getting worse by the minute; everything she said just came out horribly wrong and she was only digging herself in further. "That's not what I meant at all; I mean I know it sounded bad, um…you know the way I—" she sighed heavily.

Aoshi watched her fluster and fumble and he was growing more and more intrigued and amused. "

Just then, she looked up at him, her face redder than ever and her chest heaving. "I'm sorry, this is not going well, I didn't mean for it to sound like that, that's not what I meant—"

Suddenly, something clicked in his head and Aoshi cocked a quizzical brow at her, amusement plainly written on his face. "Misao—if I'm not mistaken, you seem—nervous."

Misao gapped at him. "Me? Nervous around you?" She scoffed, a little over-exaggerated laugh followed. "Of course not! Not at all! I'm just very, you know I was startled—you know. Startled."

"Yes, you said that before. However I don't…quite recall saying I thought I was the reason for your nervousness."

She deadpanned. "What? No I—of course you did—you just did…didn't you…?"

Aoshi fixed her with an unblinking stare, unable to conceal his amusement as he cocked an eyebrow. "No, Misao—I didn't. But you just did."

The young woman said nothing.

Only stared at him.

Mouth agape and eyes wide like a deer-in-headlights.

Aoshi steeled himself boldly.

This was his chance.

He knew deep down that Misao felt—or had felt strongly for him at one time for many years.

And he highly doubted that her feelings had much changed.

However, he wasn't a fool; he'd hurt her deeply and Misao was a stubborn woman; she would resist him and steel herself against him to protect herself and to punish him. If thought she could make him feel a measure of the pain he'd put her through, he didn't doubt she would do everything in her power to make him suffer as much as she could.

But this moment was an opportunity for him to peel back the layers of her defenses and see for himself if she really did despise him or if she truly still felt the same way.

It was a risk, but taking risks was what he did and he wasn't about to let this—let her—get away from him again.

He braced himself. Then took a step towards her. "Misao…do I make you nervous?"

She blinked twice, and slowly, uncertainly shook her head. "N-now why would—where would you come up with something like that, honestly?"

His eyes were unwavering, watching every turn of her expression. "Well you've been acting strange for the last few days. You rarely meet my eyes and when you come near me, your face instantly flushes. Like now…"

She shook her head and turned her back to him, hastily grasping for the bowl of herbs which Aoshi had thankfully managed to save from spilling to the ground. "Don't be ridiculous, Aoshi-sama; pardon me for saying so but I really think you're—i-imagining things."

Before she could turn around, Aoshi closed the small gap between them and pressed his body flush against her back, lightly pinning her to the low stone wall. He caught her sharp intake of breath when she felt the weight of his strong frame press against her. Her breathing was very erratic now and he could feel her heart pounding through her back. "Then why is it—when I'm near you, you blush. And if I touch you—like this." His hands slid up her arms, coming to rest on either side of her shouldersas he held her against him and leaned close to her ear, his lips nearly brushing against her temple. "You tremble. And when I whisper to you—a shiver goes up your spine—and your breathing becomes shallow—erratic." He daringly let his lips ghost across her skin to her hair where he breathed in the familiar and intoxicating scent of Jasmine.

"I can hear your heart, Misao—it's racing. The more I whisper to you like this—and the more I touch you—like this" His hands ghosted along the tops of her shoulders to her neck where his fingertips left burning trails of feather-light caresses on their way upwards.

"Ah—Aoshi-sama don't."

Her throat felt tight.

Her heart constricted painfully as she desperately attempted to keep her posture firm. Her legs felt weak and heavy and besides that, her resolve was dissipating—fast.

"Your mouth says 'don't'—but you forget on thing, Misao; I can hear your breathing—your heartbeat—"

"No—"She shook her head feverishly. "—Please stop, I—I can't—b-breathe!" She gasped when she felt his lips press a warm, open-mouthed kiss at the place where her shoulder and neck connected. She hissed.

"—That speaks 'yes' to me—Misao stop resisting; please, I know you feel it—" he wrapped an arm around her waist and gently pressed the palm of his hand against her stomach."

She sighed and her head dipped to the side, opening more of her neck and shoulder to him.

At this, Aoshi couldn't contain a small satisfied smirk as he bent to press yet another tender kiss to the spot just behind her ear.

Suddenly, Misao couldn't take any more of his sweet, agonizing torture and with one fluid motion, she twisted around in his arms, pressing her tiny hands to his chest. Her forehead rested against him and tears gathered in the long beautiful eyelashes. "Why—why do you do this?" the fingers of her right hand curled into a fist and she emphasized her desperate query with a frustrated beat of her fist against him. "You're torturing me, tantalizing me with this—this—I don't even know what this is!" Another pound of her fist followed.

"Misao, please stop this and look at me."

She refused, shaking her head dejectedly.

He then cupped her cheek and forced her to meet his eyes. "I told you before—you wouldn't avoid me forever and I wouldn't let you walk away again. You can't deny this!"

He almost pleaded with her and she couldn't ignore him anymore—she knew this but at the same time, she just wasn't ready to give in either. How could she? She felt so completely lost—lost in him! She couldn't think straight or speak sensibly when he was so close, holding her like this and speaking to her with such irrefutable passion and longing; the look of barely-concealed desperation in his eyes was enough to make all of her will and resolve crumble at his feet.

"Misao, I am a man of dignity, self-composure and conviction. I've never once strayed from any of my principles—until you."

She gasped and her eyes snapped to his, startled.

"I can't keep myself—restrained or composed; it only lasts for so long before I—I've tried everything in my power, Misao; prayer, hours of meditation, fierce and intense training trying to push my body beyond its limits because perhaps if I can exhaust every muscle and bruise or break every limb, then maybe I can finally free myself from this—madness of you consuming my every waking thought!" He took a step back from her then, releasing her shoulders and turned his back to her. Every muscle in his body was tense and pulled painfully taught as he ran a frustrated, trembling hand through his midnight hair. "My nights have always been sleepless; plagued by nightmares of the past. My sins have always haunted me but now they've changed. I'm no longer plagued by nightmares, Misao." He turned to face her then, his expression grim and his brows furrowed with something akin to anguish. "Now it is you that haunts my dreams—I can't escape you, Misao and I hate it! But I will return to those sweet, torturous dreams again—and again—and again, without thinking twice. Because those dreams—of you—are by far—the sweetest torture of my entire existence!"

But as soon as she'd heard 'I hate it' uttered from his lips, all of the dizzying seduction of his nearness and his touch wore away with nothing but hurt and vast irritation to ensue. "You—you hate it?—well then perhaps you can save yourself the 'sweet' misery and leave me alone! How can you possibly—f-flatter me—and then insult me all in the same bloody sentence?!"

He deadpanned. "I—Misao you know that's not—"

"Oh yes, I know and understand perfectly! You know what? You don't—" she stopped. Turning away from him and taking several deep breaths. She was close to raging and she didn't want to lose control of her temper; Aoshi needed to understand exactly what he had just done but going off on a spoiled tirade was not the way to go about it; not this time. Closing her eyes, she took one final calming breath and turned back to face him. "You don't like losing control. Of anything.

Of yourself.

Your—stupid, confusing emotions.

Your 'code of honor' or whatever you want to call it and I get it, okay? But to stand there and blame me for your sudden—mid-life crisis of losing your moral compass, is just insulting and unfair. I'm not the one standing here forcing myself on you, Aoshi-sama!" her eyes grew wide and pleading and her voice began to tremble. "If you are so upset by the fact that you—can't keep me out of your mind or that you suddenly 'can't control yourself' when you're around me, then leave! That's always been your solution in the past anyway! Whenever something comes up that frightens you, you run as fast as you can in the opposite direction." Her voice wasn't raised but her tone was saddened and exasperated. She didn't know what to do anymore or what to think of this man that had for so long, held the strings to her very loyal—and very fragile—heart. She couldn't deny it anymore that she still loved him.

She did.

With all of her being.

But at the same time, his erratic behavior confused and frightened her and she couldn't help but put up walls to protect herself. "I don't—I don't know you, Aoshi-sama—not really, I mean I know you on the surface but beyond that, I'm—I don't have the faintest idea of who you are, what you think and least of all, what you feel and I know you've been—trying to 'convince' me that—all this is what you're feeling but I just—I don't trust that it is because honestly, I don't even think you are certain of what any of this is."

His heart constricted painfully.

He didn't like what she was saying.

Not a single word.

But then, he couldn't blame her either.

For so many years he had pushed her away.

Shut her out.

Turned every cold measure of indifference towards her even in the face of her desperate attempts to redeem him by showering him with her unconditional love.

Even though she'd never had the courage to verbalize it to him in years past, it was obvious to him and to everyone that Misao's heart belonged to no one but Aoshi, whether he wanted it or not.

It was his fault.

His error.

His sin.

He'd done it out of well-meaning intentions; he'd meant only to protect her from the ugly truth of the man he really was.

But Misao already knew, all along.

And all of his attempts to shield her from it had now backfired on him.

Horribly.

Even when she let her walls down ever so slightly, it didn't matter if he could see her secret longing for him behind her steel resolve. Sooner or later her mind would take over her heart and once again, her walls were back up and she was pushing him away even further than before.

But it wasn't her fault.

It wasn't her that was to blame.

It was him.

And he knew this all too well.

The painful truth was brutal and far too forceful for him to swallow without choking and gasping for air.

Misao sighed. She felt defeated and torn between her compassion and her sense of frustration. She didn't know how much longer she could keep having these—encounters with him; these moments infused with sudden passion and heated exchange were vastly wearing her down, emotionally and physically. She didn't know if she could trust herself to resist him like this for much longer! How long was Aoshi intending to pursue her and what exactly was the purpose of these pursuits?

Too many questions that carried far too much weight and her mental and emotional endurance were already thinning to non-existence.

"Misao? What in kami's name are you doing?! I need those herbs; wherever you are you better get back in here this instant! The evening meal needs to be prepared!"

Omasu's distant calling broke through the tense thickness between the pair and Misao finally broke eye contact with Aoshi and turned her attention to the bowl of herbs. "Omasu's calling—she needs the herbs and—well actually, she needed these herbs a half hour ago so—I'd better hurry. We need to get dinner started anyways…" she trailed off as she took up the bowl of herbs resting near Aoshi's arm.

The back of her hand barely brushed against his arm as she turned away but Aoshi reached out and grasped her slender wrist before she could take a step.

"Misao…"

She turned saddened sea-foam green eyes to meet his steel blue stare; the dejected defeat in her eyes pained him and he squeezed her wrist in hopes of comforting her. "Please…forgive me. I've never meant to cause you—more pain—but you must believe me when I say this."

She turned her eyes towards the ground; she couldn't bare the pleading and earnest look in his eyes anymore. "I will not lie to you by making you believe that this is only an impulse or me taking action based upon a shallow whim. You say that you wish me to refute my actions, based upon the fact that I 'dislike losing control'—but I—I can't."

She looked up at him then and this time, his slate blue eyes bored deeply and seriously into hers. "I won't. I will not deny this. I would only be deceiving myself—and lying to you."

She let her eyes linger on his for a moment longer.

And then, she slowly turned and walked away without another word.

# # # #

That night at dinner, Misao excused herself early and went to her room. Closing the paper-thin shoji behind her she rested her back against the wall and slid to the floor. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested a tired head on folded arms, letting her mind wander.

Aoshi walked slowly down the hallway that led to his sleeping quarters.

On the way he noticed the dim candlelight beyond Misao's bedroom door casting her tiny shadow hunched over against the wall. He paused and listened to her steady breathing, her heartbeat—and the occasional sniffles that could only signify one thing;

She was crying.

Softly and quietly.

The tears were doubtlessly many however as the shadow of her arm constantly raised to furiously brush away the traitorous drops, was a dead giveaway.

Misao cried very few times in her life and she never cried in front of anyone, save on the night of Aoshi's return when she had been beyond hurt and furious.

Aoshi listened to her soft sobs and a painful emotion coiled tightly in his throat making it difficult to breathe; in his mind he knew that the thing to do was to continue on to his room and leave Misao to her privacy…

But then again, his heart had been dictating most of his actions as of late and in this instance, it was even more adamant than in any of the previous.

He knew she wanted to be left alone.

He hadn't forgotten her words earlier that evening.

But his struggle was already lost.

He was no longer in possession of his emotions or his actions.

It was pathetic really.

He was a man terribly weak and at the mercy of this one woman and no matter how hard he fought against it, his feet were already carrying him to the threshold of her door.

Misao heard steady footsteps come to a halt just outside her door.

She vigorously wiped away the traces of tears from her cheeks, brushed back her hair that she had loosened from its fishtail braid and stepped to the door.

"Okon, if that's you don't worry, you can go back and tell Omasu I'm fine—I'm just tired."

Aoshi took a few deep breaths before replying.

It was now or never.

"It is not Okon."

He waited.

Silence.

At first, he expected her to simply turn away and leave him standing in the hallway without a word.

Then the sound of crackling rice paper and smooth wood reached his ears and he looked down to see Misao kneeling meekly in the entrance, pulling back the shoji.

"Aoshi-sama." Was all she said, her voice hushed and subdued so as not to wake the others.

He watched her face carefully. Her eyes were fixed in her lap where her hands were precariously clasped. He wanted to say something—but he couldn't find the words.

He only looked at her.

Then to his surprise, she stood to her feet and looked him squarely in the eyes.

And there it was.

The tears gathering in her eyes that threatened to spill over was like a window into her heart.

And again, he saw it.

The crack in her walls.

The chink in her armor.

The weakness in her otherwise flawless defenses.

And she was showing it to him openly.

Knowingly.

She didn't even pretend or attempt to hide it.

And that simple yet subtle display of vulnerability was his final undoing.

His body began to tremble.

His composure seeped from his body, leaving him weak and utterly helpless to resist what came next.

"…Aoshi…"

She whispered his name.

Just his name.

A single tear escaped the sea-foam pools and trickled unheeded down her cheek.

She ignored it.

Her eyes never left his.

He closed the distance between them in one swift, silent fluid step.

And she was pressed fiercely against his body, her lips trembling as he devoured them with his.

Her tiny hands fisted the front material of his gi.

His right arm wound tightly around her waist and his left fisted firmly into her hair as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, unashamedly tasting her.

They both knew there would be regret.

Guilt.

Shame.

But they chose not to care.

Not in this moment.

She let the softest of moans escape her.

Knowing she'd hate herself for it tomorrow.

He pressed her to him tighter.

Devouring her sweet mouth greedily.

Knowing the guilt would be sharp in the morning.

And the truth, brutally cruel.

But he refused to listen to his head.

As did she.

He refused to think.

To analyze the repercussions.

To consider the consequences that would doubtlessly come.

She was here in his arms.

She had given him the unmistakable go-ahead and he wasn't backing down.

Not for brutal reality.

Not for dire consequence.

He broke the kiss, only to come up for air and the inexplicable need to speak her name.

"…Misao…"

Only to be met with an equally feverish and need-filled, "…Shhh, my okashira."

He allowed himself a blissful boyish smile against her lips when she pressed them more eagerly with her own.

"…You are—leaving me—b-breathless—Misao." He whispered heatedly between feverish kisses.

He felt her smile against his lips in turn.

"Well then—prepare to suffocate—my lord." Slender fingers laced together around the back of his neck as she pulled him down closer to her, deepening the kiss that would doubtlessly leave her rosy pink lips, red and bruised.

Aoshi couldn't get her close enough and eventually dissatisfied with their present position, backed her into the wall where he then pinned her with the full weight and length of his body.

Shivers rippled through her tiny lithe frame.

He reveled in every single one, knowing that he was the cause of her uncontrollable passionate responses.

He gloried in how her body came alive at his slightest touch.

Each caress he bestowed upon her—no matter how small—instantly set her aflame with delightful shivers and elicited the most agonizingly pleasurable moans from her lips.

Before either of them was aware of it, they had spent well over half the night lost in their dizzyingly passionate exchange of white hot kisses and tangled embraces. Surprisingly, it went no farther than this. Both managed to subdue their passions long enough to draw the line that was not to be crossed—despite that in their deepest heart, both craved for nothing less than complete fulfillment.

It was left unsaid between the two nonetheless and as morning broke; they separated reluctantly, dreading the inescapable reality of consequences and brutal truth that tomorrow would bring them.

Deeper in love

In love, Deeper in love

In love

In love…