Chapter Five: Balancing Now and the Future

When Misao woke up, it took a long while for the drug-induced fog to ebb away. Once it did, she realized she was back home and tucked in the futon in her bedroom. The next thing Misao noticed was that her side hurt again, but the pain was more manageable. Her fingers skimmed the confines of the bandage wrapped tightly around her ribcage and shoulder, forcing her to take shallow breaths. But she was alive and Misao supposed not being able to breathe deeply was a small price to pay. The window showed only darkness so that meant she had only slept for a little while, or slept at least through one day. Misao thought it was probably the latter. Her body, while still battered, felt much better.

She lay there for a while, not moving and hardly breathing, trying to order her thoughts. As the last threads of mental cobwebs finally cleared from her brain, she recalled everything that had happened in the fight.

Shinobi-san was Aoshi-sama. Aoshi-sama was the leader of the small shinobi clan which actually used to be a part of the Oniwabanshu. No wonder Hannya and the others kept calling her Okashira.

Misao wondered if she should have found out about Aoshi-sama sooner. She wasn't sure how she could have discovered the truth, but it irked her that he could have had a secret double life and she didn't know about it. After all, her husband apparently knew about hers, from the lack of surprise he exhibited when they met before the fighting began. It made Misao wonder if she really knew Aoshi-sama after all.

Jiya. He would have known Aoshi-sama's secret. Not only that, but he had blatantly lied to her, saying that the other shinobi leader was from a different clan. Her grandfather had not been considered one of the greatest onmitsu during the Bakumatsu for nothing. He would have scrutinized Aoshi-sama's background carefully before even considering marrying off his precious granddaughter.

That betrayal hurt as much as the wound on her side. Why didn't her grandfather tell her? Was that why he had chosen Aoshi-sama? Did Aoshi-sama know because Okina told him who she was?

Her head started pounding again and just when Misao wondered where in the world everyone else was, the shoji slid open. She craned her neck, expecting her husband but immediately realized it was only Omasu.

"Misao-sama, you're up!" the housekeeper exclaimed. "Everyone will be so pleased to hear it. Can I get you anything?"

"Some water would be nice," Misao replied, trying to hide her disappointment.

"Of course. I'll be right back." And before Misao could ask her anything else, she vanished. Silently. Like a shinobi.

Misao snorted to herself. Perhaps she should ask Megumi to take a look at her head. She was beginning to see conspiracies everywhere. More importantly, where was her husband? Surely he should have kept watch over her? Too bad Omasu-san had left before the housekeeper could be questioned.

The door slid open again and Misao looked up eagerly, only to have her face fall. "Oh, it's just you," she said, deflated.

"And a hello to you too," Sano retorted as he gingerly stepped in. Bandages, both small and large covered much of his body, but that wasn't an unusual look for the street fighter. Sometimes, it was odder to see him without a bruise or two. Sano plopped down by her side. "Omasu-san said you're awake so Megumi told me to keep you company for a bit while she mixes up some more medicine for you. And oh, hey, I'm fine, just a little banged up, but I'll survive. Yes, I've been taking good care of myself too, thanks for being so concerned."

Misao sighed then grimaced as her bandages constricted the deep breath. "Stop it. You know I'm glad you're okay."

"Yeah well..." Sano absently rubbed his ribs. "You didn't have to take him on, you know," he said abruptly. He nodded towards her wound. "Then you wouldn't have gotten that."

"You could barely stand."

"I've been through my share of dings and hits. I know when I've had enough."

Skeptical, Misao moved her hand and prodded his ankle with her finger. She felt him wince at the slight pressure; it was at least sprained from the way he favored it hobbling in. "I told you I didn't want you to be a hero, Sano."

"Well, I can't be one if the Okashira of the Oniwabanshu insists on being one instead," he shot back.

"Where's Aoshi-sama?" she asked, not caring if the change in subject was abrupt or not.

Sano raised his brows but answered anyway. "He's down the hall in that spare room you like to jump in and out of. Hannya-san is there and Megumi says he'll recover if he wakes up. They've both been holed up there for the past few days."

So she had been out longer than a day. Misao frowned as she considered his words, then struggled to sit up. Because her torso and left shoulder were bound so tightly, she couldn't bend forward or get any momentum to stand. Finally, she grumbled, "I could use some help."

"Misao, you haven't been recovering long. Maybe you should stay in bed," Sano suggested. "Megumi will kill you if you reopen that wound."

"Just help me up. I'm only going to walk down the hallway."

Sano sighed. "Why am I always put in these terrible positions?" he said, casting his eyes upward as if he was supplicating to any listening deity. "Okay, stop struggling, you look like a ridiculous beached fish. I'll help you, but I'm going to tell Megumi you made me."

He helped her to her feet and Misao took a tentative step before waving off Sano's anxious hovering. Her legs wobbled for a moment but then firmed up. "I'm okay."

"How's your side?"

"Burning but definitely not as painful as before." She took another step and another step, listening to her body for any signs of dizziness or weakness. Satisfied that it would hold up for the short walk down the hall, Misao headed towards the shoji. "If Omasu-san comes up, tell her I'll be right back."

"Oh good, more lectures," Sano muttered under his breath.

Misao didn't even laugh because she knew it would hurt and instead concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. She felt the pain slowly ebb in and out in waves but everything else seemed to be working well enough. Still, she braced one hand against the wall, using it as a support until she got to the shoji that was left ajar enough for her to peek in.

As Sano indicated, Aoshi was there, sitting against the far wall close to the futon laid out under the window Misao snuck in and out of when going about shinobi business. The futon held Hannya, breathing so shallowly she had to squint and concentrate to see his chest moving up and down.

There was only one candle lit in the room. The rest of the space was illuminated by the flood of moonlight and stars. Misao stared at her unmoving husband, wondering if he was asleep or simply thinking. Just when she was about to finally go back to her room - she heard the light tread of Omasu's footsteps climbing to the second floor - Aoshi stirred and asked quietly, "Are you intending to stay out there all night?"

That was all the invitation she needed. Misao didn't even question how he knew she had been hovering outside the door and slipped inside. She shut the door behind her and shuffled over to Hannya.

She was horrified when she saw his face. His mask lay next to his head, a gross parody of everything recognizable in a person - eyes, ears, nose, mouth - that had been literally chopped away. A wave of nausea started up from her stomach and rose so swiftly she was about to retch but Misao forced it down. She hated to throw up, and she didn't want to embarrass herself in front of her husband. It would also dishonor the torture Hannya went through, just to save her life. She swallowed the bile, almost choking, and whispered, "What did they do to him?"

"They beat him, broke nearly half his bones, burned his body, and stabbed him repeatedly."

Misao looked up at her husband. "And his face?" She was surprised he hadn't mentioned that it appeared to be missing. Another threat of nausea threatened to empty her stomach but she forced herself to concentrate on the dark outline of her husband.

Only his clear green eyes stared out at her from the near shadows. "His face was not damaged." He paused, then continued, "Hannya did that to himself. He is a master of disguises."

Misao looked down at the prone man and shook her head in wonder as much as pained confusion. "He did it?"

"Aa."

Silence fell between them and Misao kept staring at the faceless Hannya. He must have mutilated himself to be able to disguise himself and blend into the scenery, rendering himself as a valuable shinobi. Only one with deep loyalty ties would do just a thing, and it made Hannya all the more precious to Misao. He looked as peaceful as one could without a face. Tentatively, she reached out and touched where his hair would have been. The skin underneath her fingers was rough and leathery, as if it had been exposed to difficult elements for a long time.

"Should you be up, Misao?"

Finally, a question about her health. Before, she would have been thrilled at the level of concern from her otherwise stoic husband. But now, Misao looked up at Aoshi and answered flatly, "I'm fine."

"Takani-sensei says you need bed rest for at least three weeks."

"Well, considering no one was there watching over me when I woke up, I didn't know that," she said stiffly.

There was silence at the implied accusation of not caring for her and then Aoshi replied, "Ah."

"Exactly."

Misao heard voices down the hallway. From the sound of it, it was Megumi lecturing Sano about letting her out of bed. She had to smile, picturing the rooster's pained expression as he endured the scolding. Another voice - Omasu-san? - chimed in. Then there was a telling silence and Misao let out a breath of relief she didn't know she had been holding. No one was going to interrupt them for the moment, knowing she and Aoshi had a lot to talk about.

As if understanding that, Aoshi finally spoke again. "I suppose I was partially trying to avoid this discussion we're about to have."

Misao knew that. "But why?"

"There is much to be revealed and explained, Misao. Both of us."

"You first," she said a little fiercely, the hurt showing in her voice. She hated how vulnerable she was acting, but Misao couldn't bring herself to do anything else but let her feelings out. "You and Jiya conspired behind my back about this marriage, didn't you?"

After a telling pause, Aoshi asked, "You know that Okina knew who I was?"

Misao's vision blurred suddenly but she blinked the tears back, determined not to show weakness. If the two men in her life couldn't even bother to mention the Oniwabanshu connection and make decisions without her knowledge, it was as if they couldn't trust her or her opinion didn't matter. Then she wasn't truly the Okashira and only some figurehead they indulged. "Jiya would have looked into your past before even considering marriage." Even to her own ears, she sounded bitter.

A rustling sound caused Misao to look up and she realized that Aoshi moved closer to the light so his face could be seen. "You misunderstand me, Misao. Allow me to explain."

Trying not to sniffle or show any indication of crying, she took a moment to make sure her voice wouldn't waver when she spoke. "Fine. Go ahead." Misao doubted anything he said would make things better, but she cared for him enough to hope it might.

Aoshi nodded. "During the Bakumatsu, I joined the Oniwabanshu and was stationed in Edo for the duration. I met your mother, the Okashira, for the first time. It was a brief meeting, but she was a charismatic leader who made a lasting impression on me. Your grandfather was there as well, but he mostly stayed in the background and we never spoke. Then, a year ago, he saw my name in the newspapers about my business. Okina knew I had left the clan, of course, and remembered me from that meeting years ago. He approached me with a marriage proposal on behalf of his precocious granddaughter. I accepted his explanation that he heard about my business dealings and decided I was the kind of man he wanted for you. It was a common reason and didn't warrant any suspicion. He didn't mention anything of our shared past."

Misao stared at him, the hurt forgotten in lieu of this untold backstory. She had only been told that Okina had set up an omiai and the prospective groom had agreed to the proposal even without personally meeting her. "You must have received dozens of requests from prospective families to marry their daughters before Jiya came to you. What else could have made you accept his offer if it wasn't the Oniwabanshu connection?"

"Okina deliberately prevented you from meeting me as a precautionary measure to protect your identity in case we couldn't reach an agreement, but he brought a miniature portrait of you to show me. I was...intrigued."

Aoshi watched her steadily as he spoke, his gaze so intent that Misao almost caught her breath when she saw a glimpse of something in his normally unreadable gaze. What was it? Passion or possession? Something primal and male, deep within that she had only seen glimpses of when they were making love. "Intrigued?" she repeated weakly.

He nodded, the green of his eyes darkening until she felt positively warm from his complete attention. "It was your eyes. Your hair. The expression on your face. That ridiculous Western dress I'm sure Okina made you wear when the painting was commissioned."

Misao remembered that dress. It had been pink and frilly and lacy, with a large hoop skirt she almost drowned in and a corset that made her thankful for every breath since. Okina had strong-armed her into it, insisting this would be the only way to find her a suitable husband. She hated pink, she hated the hoops, and she hated the constricting corset. But somehow, Misao had managed to sit long enough for the artist to paint her likeness. The dress was still in her closet back in her grandfather's house where she had thrown it after sitting for the portrait.

She took a long, slow breath in, wincing slightly as the bandages tightened when she exhaled. Realizing that her husband was opening up to her and sharing something personal, Misao took her time to think of a proper response. "So back then, you really didn't know who my mother was and that I had taken over the Oniwabanshu. You just wanted me..."

"For myself." Misao almost blinked at how deep Aoshi's voice had gotten but she couldn't look away from him if she tried. "I wanted you as mine the moment I saw your picture."

Misao almost laughed at the startling confession while at the same time trying not to swoon or something equally ridiculous. The hole in her heart filled up with relief and warmth. It was nice to be desired by her husband, but even nicer to realize that perhaps he hadn't known everything all along either. "Then when did you find out? You weren't surprised to see me when we met near the docks the other night."

Aoshi nodded again. "I discovered it a week ago. After finding you in here with your wounded arm, I wanted to know what you were hiding from me. I followed you over to Okina's house and overheard your conversation with him."

Eyes widening in realization, Misao recalled that conversation and its embarrassing parts. "Jiya was just joking about having you killed!" she blurted out.

Aoshi blinked twice in what appeared to be genuine confusion. "He what?"

"Um, never mind," Misao said hastily, relieved that perhaps he hadn't heard that part. "So you eavesdropped on our conversation?" The implication suddenly hit her and she pointed an accusing finger at him. "You eavesdropped on our conversation!"

He raised an eyebrow at her finger and Misao quickly dropped the gesture. "I had to eavesdrop," he replied calmly. "If my wife won't tell me the truth, what else could I do? When you left to get your wound rebandaged, Okina and I spoke. He told me who your mother was and suddenly everything made sense."

Misao sighed. It probably had taken her grandfather every kind of patience to refrain from pointing out she hadn't sensed anyone following her and thus made another bad example as a leader.

As if reading her pained thoughts, Aoshi said, "You had a lot on your mind, Misao. I know you were worried about what I would discover, and what I would do if I found out the truth. I have also been a shinobi longer than you have."

She smiled weakly at the reassurances but Misao knew that she couldn't keep lapsing in judgment if she wanted to be a true Okashira to her people. "Okina told me that everyone in the Oniwabanshu was offered a place to stay or they could leave. Why did you leave?"

Aoshi dropped his eyes down to Hannya and she followed his gaze. "Hannya, Shikijou, Beshimi, and Hyottoko were loyal to the Okashira - your mother. But when she passed away and temporary leadership was granted to someone we hardly knew in Kyoto, we decided to leave. The war was over and there was no longer any place for us in this peaceful era. These men would have followed me to hell and back, but they didn't have the necessary skills to survive as civilians. I decided to start a business and hire them as my employees.

"A few years ago, we heard that the daughter of Kashiwazaki Yuya had taken officially over the Oniwaban. But by then, we had gotten too used to our independence and freedom. And when Okina approached me about marriage, he gave me the name Makimachi Misao."

She nodded. "My father's family name. He was not well known outside of the inner Oniwaban circle. Jiya said it was for his safety, and for mine when I was born."

Aoshi inclined his head but raised his eyes to look at her again. "Your mother was an excellent leader and knew how to protect her people well. But the moment she married..."

Misao played with the hem of her yukata, knowing exactly where this discussion was heading. "She should have stepped down, I know." It was because of her mother's death, Okina's only child, he constantly harped the same lecture to her.

To his credit, Aoshi didn't say anything anymore and simply sat there. Misao squirmed slightly, wondering what to say or do. There was a lot to process and even more to consider where they would go from here. So it was a relief the shoji slid open, saving her from the uncomfortable, growing silence.

"Misao, it's back to bed," Megumi said firmly. "You've been up long enough."

Aoshi rose fluidly and bowed slightly. "My apologies, Takani-sensei. I should not have let Misao stay up so long. I will ensure she rests immediately."

"I'm right here," Misao pointed out in annoyance, yet grateful for the interruption. It would give her time to think until they could finish their conversation. "Please stop treating me like a child," she grumbled, trying to climb back up to her feet. After several failed attempts, Aoshi silently helped her up, careful of her wound, but didn't stop there. He carried her, bridal style, back to their room amidst Misao's loud protests and Megumi's smirk.

"Here, before you lay down, drink some of this restorative tea," the doctor said, handing Misao a cup of steaming liquid. "It will help in the healing process."

Eyeing the tea with some misgivings, Misao blew on the surface to cool it some before she downed it. As she expected, the bitterness of the herbs landed on her tongue, so potent that even the hot liquid couldn't disguise it.

"That was perhaps the first time I didn't have to twist your arm to take medicine," Megumi remarked coyly. "I'll attribute that to your husband's presence."

Misao made a face at her friend. "I'm a great patient and I always listen to everything you say." A sudden thought occurred to her and she jerked her gaze to Aoshi. "You didn't get wounded, did you?" Misao asked earnestly. Besides the tiny cut on his face which already looked mostly healed, she hadn't noticed any limping or injuries on him. At the same time, she needed to hear the reassurance that he was fine.

"Of course not. You did all the hard work in defeating Usui," he said without missing a beat, as if he understood her concern. Aoshi carefully laid her down on the futon and pulled the blanket to her shoulders.

Smothering a yawn with her hand, Misao suddenly realized just how tired she was. "Good answer," she mumbled.

Aoshi touched her cheek briefly. "Sleep well," he murmured before rising. The last vision she had was her husband and Megumi putting their heads together to talk and the realization that the fox doctor had once again drugged her.

Okina was staring out the window with a pensive expression on his face when Misao awoke. As she waited for the now-familiar mental cobwebs to dissolve, she watched her grandfather until he finally stirred and looked in her direction with a slight smile.

"So you're finally awake then," he said.

"No thanks to Megumi's evil drugs," Misao muttered, shaking off the last of the cobwebs.

"You needed the rest and Takani-sensei assured us you'll have wanted something for the pain."

Knowing her friend was probably right, she simply changed the subject. "What is the situation?"

Okina stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Between Aoshi-kun and Himura-san, the battle ended very soon after. The police finally arrived and took Hoji's hired mercenaries into custody and are still trying to sort things out. We lost six men, and most others are injured but they will eventually recover. Takani-sensei and her students have been instrumental in everyone's quick recuperation."

"Will the police need anything from us?"

"I've arranged for several 'bystanders' to explain what they saw so the Oniwabanshu won't have to testify or reveal ourselves. The police also recovered a large cache of weapons so I am confident they will find a way to link this disaster with Hoji."

Misao exhaled slowly in relief. That had been another concern of hers, being exposed by the public and having to dissolve the clan for everyone's safety. "I'm glad."

Okina nodded. "Himura-san and his friends have already returned to Tokyo. Aoshi-kun offered to let them stay but they were not injured and Kamiya-san seemed particularly anxious to get Himura-san out of the city. I fear we did his mental state no favors by asking him to fight with us."

"Ah, kami," Misao said with a sigh. The guilt came flooding back, but considering how much Battousai had helped, she shrugged off the regret as best she could. "I should write them a thank you note or something."

"That is a good idea, Misao."

"And what about Hannya-san?"

"Takani-sensei is still cautious about his recovery, but he seems to be doing a little better every day. He still hasn't awakened yet. Shikijou is already up and about. Beshimi and Hyottoko were not duly wounded."

Satisfied with the updates, Misao stared at her grandfather steadily. It was time to confront him about his trickery. "You lied to me about them. And Aoshi-sama. You deliberately mislead me into thinking that Hannya and the others were from a different shinobi clan when in fact they used to be part of the Oniwabanshu."

Okina nodded again, his gaze drifting back towards the window. "I did."

"Why?"

"For many reasons. I didn't want you to think I was trying to replace you, but I wanted to give you an opportunity to pass on the leadership to someone you trusted so that you may focus on being a wife and future mother. Marrying Aoshi-kun would offer you that chance, but I knew you wouldn't accept it right away. So I didn't tell you of his connection with our clan until you were ready to let go." Okina sighed before turning back to face her. "Aoshi-kun was once considered as a candidate to take over the clan. But before we could extend him that offer, he informed us of the resignation of the entire Tokyo branch. In his explanation letter, he even suggested that leadership should pass to someone who only knows peace and will strive for it. With that wisdom in mind, you ended up becoming our new leader."

Misao almost smiled, wondering if her husband knew that he'd played in an inadvertent role in her becoming the Okashira. But that amusement faded as she focused on the matter at hand. "You still lied to me, Jiya."

"It was not to hurt you, Misao-mine. You have been so resistant to change thus far. I did what I thought was right."

Misao struggled to sit up, disliking the idea of having this conversation laying down. "Jiya, you can't hide things from me anymore," she said in a low voice. "I know I'm still young but I am the Okashira and it is my decision to do what's right for the clan. I'm not the little girl you need to protect any longer."

Okina sighed heavily and looked at his granddaughter, his eyes misty. "You're right, Misao. The Oniwabanshu cannot have two leaders and expect to thrive. You have done well in leading us thus far. You are exactly like your mother."

Shaking her head, Misao reached out to touch the old man's hand. "No, Jiya, I'm not exactly like her. I'm me and this is a different era from when Kaa-san led the clan."

His eyes widened and Okina searched her face for a long moment before offering a small, sad smile. "Ah, Misao-mine, when did you grow up so fast? You're right. I will no longer withhold any information from you."

"Good, because I'd hate to lose you as an adviser." Misao kept her gaze focused on her grandfather so he knew she was utterly serious. "You need to let me go, Jiya. I already have a husband whom I need to answer to."

At her words, a slow, sly smile curled his lips up. "Hmm, about that, Misao."

Misao blinked in surprise at his odd reaction. "Yes?"

"If I may offer a piece of advice?" Okina's eyes twinkled as if he had a delicious secret to share. "Did you know there is a seldom-used but well-known law in the clan for re-conscription of former shinobi in times of need?"

At that, Misao raised her eyebrows. That led to some interesting possibilities. "Really?"

"Indeed." With that, Okina rose to his feet. "I'll leave you to plan your next move, Okashira. In the meantime, I will inform Takani-sensei you are awake and annoyed at being drugged again."

"Yes, please do." Misao watched her grandfather leave, slightly stunned at how easily he had called her by her title, for the first time ever. Then a thought occurred to her and she called out, "Jiya, where's Aoshi-sama?"

"You know where." And with that gentle remark, he left.

Misao sat there, trying not to breathe too heavily but annoyance wormed through her. Her husband had, once again, chosen Hannya over her. While she understood they had been comrades for years, didn't he owe some amount of loyalty to his wife? Scowling, she shoved off the blankets and carefully got to her feet. Listening to her body for a moment, Misao felt only twinges of pain from her side. However evil it was for Megumi to drug her, she did feel better but that didn't make her any happier.

She washed her face and neck and changed into a fresh yukata, struggling slightly to put her arms in the sleeves before she stepped out of the room. Misao heard several familiar voices talking over each other downstairs and absolute silence in the room down the corridor. The stark contrast hit her and she automatically quieted her footsteps as she approached the end room.

She was surprised to see Beshimi standing in front of the shouji and he seemed equally startled by her presence. He straightened at her arrival before offering a formal bow. "Okashira," he greeted softly.

"What are you doing out here?" Misao asked but even as she spoke, she realized he was standing guard in honor of his injured comrade.

"We three are taking turns," he explained.

Misao nodded in understanding. So Shikijou and Hyottoko were also involved in the silent support of their friend. The gesture was an old-fashioned one, but it seemed only right for them to do this. "Hannya-san is very lucky to have you all. Is Aoshi-sama in there?"

"Yes." Beshimi paused as if considering what to say next, then added, "He is sleeping."

She raised her eyebrows, tempted to peek in and see if that was true. But her husband tended to be a light sleeper and would awake if she came any closer. Deciding to trust Beshimi knew his leader well, perhaps in ways even she didn't, Misao said, "Then I'll let him rest and trust you'll watch over them both, Beshimi."

The squat man puffed his chest out in pride. "I will not let you down, Okashira!"

Misao had to smile at his earnestness and slowly turned to go back to her room. She wanted to stay angry that her husband would choose someone else over her, but seeing the loyalty between the five of them who had been together for so long, Misao knew it was futile. She even admired it, and perhaps envied the deep ties that bound them together.

Tired from her short trek, Misao went back to her futon and carefully laid down. She had only meant to close her eyes for a moment but when Misao woke up again, sunlight streamed into the room with enough warmth to make the covers too hot for her. She pushed them off then realized Aoshi was in the room, watching her with such intensity it almost made Misao squirm. She tried to regain her equilibrium as she slowly sat up and shoved her bangs back from her face. "Um, good morning," Misao said warily. There was a look in his eyes that indicated he was displeased with her but she didn't know why.

"I trust you slept well?"

"Yes, quite well, thank you." And Misao realized it was true. Her body felt better and her side was itching slightly, a good sign that the wound was beginning to heal.

"Good. When were you going to tell me that you were with child?"

Misao blinked in astonishment, caught speechless for a moment. "I am?" She thought back to the past several weeks and realized that she had missed her monthly flow. And then there had been bouts of nausea and dizziness which she merely attributed to the stress of the situation. Megumi had been very explicit about the symptoms of pregnancy and she had missed every sign.

Aoshi leaned forward, his eyes burning. "Omasu mentioned that you didn't ask for the usual bandages. While I am pleased by the news, Misao, I am distinctly unhappy that you put yourself and our child in danger."

She tried not to sigh at another impending lecture. "I didn't realize I was pregnant," she protested.

"And if you did know?"

The challenge rang clear in Aoshi's voice. Misao refused to back down, refused to regret any decision she had made in this matter. She lifted her chin and stared right back at him. "It wouldn't have made any difference to what I did." Her voice was firm and dared him to object.

Aoshi nodded as if he expected her rebellious response, expression grim. "I thought as much. You must step down from being Okashira, Misao. You know the laws as well as I do."

She shook her head, more out of frustration than denial. Misao was tired of being told what to do, even if it was from her husband whom she had promised to obey. "There is no actual rule that the Okashira must step down after marrying and having children. It is highly suggested, of course, but I am still within my rights to lead the clan." Here, she took a deep breath before deciding to take the plunge she had been struggling with for so long. "And I've decided I'm not giving it up."

Silence stretched out between them for long minutes as they locked gazes with one another. Misao felt her pulse jump uneasily and her stomach churn as she openly defied her husband. She was in the right but the line between their personal life and shinobi life was now permanently blurred.

Aoshi, she could tell, was displeased with her defiance. But he seemed more pensive than angry and Misao wasn't exactly sure of the direction of his thoughts. At last, he spoke and his voice remained reserved. "Is that a formal decision, Okashira?"

Misao sighed, wishing for a cup of tea and maybe some breakfast before having such a heavy conversation. "Let's not pretend this is going to affect just the Oniwabanshu, Aoshi-sama. I know that this isn't what you or even Jiya want, but after all that's happened, I think I'm doing a good job in leading the clan. Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm suddenly ill-suited to make decisions." Misao studied his lithe form and remembered just how much he looked like the prime specimen of a shinobi. The idea she had been toying with, ever since her grandfather's comment, rose to the forefront of her mind and she offered him a faint, tentative smile. "But I also know that I'm not alone now. I think I should invoke the re-conscription law for the five of you and ask that you personally take over leading the field work."

There was no visible reaction from Aoshi but something from within him seemed to ease the tension between them. He considered that for a long while, then slowly nodded and said, "If that is your wish, Okashira, we will obey."

Her shoulders slumped in relief from the stress she didn't realize she was holding onto. "Good. It won't be easy, Aoshi-sama, I know that. We have to learn how to separate when we are working and when we are not. But I think we can do it."

He nodded and his eyes softened just the slightest to show he agreed. "Aa."

Misao touched her stomach briefly, marveling at the idea of new life dwelling within her. "Megumi said the baby is all right?" she asked in a quieter tone.

"It is too soon to tell." Aoshi paused as if to gather his composure before continuing. "Between the wound and the drugs, there is a good chance he did not. We can only wait and see."

Tears sprang into her eyes at the news but Misao nodded in understanding. She had lost so much blood and imbibed unsafe medicine, all because she had been too preoccupied to pay attention to her body. Would she have confronted Usui had she known of the pregnancy beforehand, as she had rashly informed Aoshi? Or would she have stepped aside and perhaps let Sano and Megumi and Shikijou-san get hurt or even die?

She didn't know the answer. And that disturbed her greatly.

As if sensing her distraught thoughts, Aoshi touched her cheek so Misao turned to look at him through the curtain of unshed tears. "Don't worry so. If this child is anything like you, he or she will survive."

Misao knew that was unlikely and she had to prepare herself for the loss, but the quiet conviction in her husband's voice buoyed her hopes. The future was anything but certain but the deepening relationship between them reminded Misao she was no longer alone. Live, she silently urged her baby. Their baby. We are waiting for you. You are our future.

In the next room over, Hannya opened his eyes.

AN: Thanks to everyone who read. Please let me know what you thought! Updated posting schedule in my profile.