Winter's Chill
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Face to Face:
Misao's conscious awoke to a scratchy feeling surrounding her. Before her something warm and light was inviting, while a chilly draught from behind made her shiver. "Did I forget to shut my window before going to bed?" her mind fumbled groggily. It was a fleeting thought before again darkness swallowed her. Later a restored sense of warmth awoke her again and she realized that it was not her room that she was in. Confused, she cracked her eyes and saw a small fire blazing merrily before her. Her brain then registered movement to the side of her. Moving as little as possible she shifted for a better view.
As if earlier had not been a big enough shock, she now laid beside a man she never thought nor had wished to see again. He was covered in a large thick coat but the bronzed skin contrasting sharply with shockingly white hair was unforgettable. Yukishiro Enishi. He looked calm; there was no crazy gleam in his blue-green eyes as he stared into the fire, apparently lost in thought. Misao's mind was a whirl of thoughts and she opened her mouth to speak when a new sensation banished all previous thoughts from her mind. She moved but there was no restricting cloth. Again shifting as little as possible she looked down to take stock of the situation and found that she was indeed covered by absolutely nothing but the scratchy woolen blanket. "What had happened?!?!" her mind reeled.
How had she ended up here with a man that almost killed one of her best friends and nearly drove another insane, all for some childish, unwarranted revenge? Misao felt anger and resentment rise within her she wanted to yell and scream and beat him to an unrecognizable pulp but she was still weak and soon lost the energy for even thoughts of rash and violent actions. Instead she fell to pondering how she had come to this situation. Her last memory was of the white cold. He must have saved her, but why was he planning revenge on Aoshi-sama and the others at the Aoiya. Well, in that case he had a run of bad luck there was a reason she was left out in the snow to die. Aoshi didn't want her. He had a real woman and the rest of them could probably care less, they apparently had not cared enough to tell her Aoshi had moved on from his constant meditation to more appealing subjects. She could see their faces as they snickered behind her back while she pined away for Aoshi. They probably extract great joy watching me moon about while Aoshi was planning trysts for he and his new lover. Her thoughts ran on and on and soon she was back to wishing she had died in the snow and was resentful of her savior for denying her the death she so wanted and justly deserved. She fisted her hand angrily and beat it down up the wood floor. A move she instantly regretted for two reasons. First, the floor was ice cold and the chill bit into her already cold hand and secondly it attracted the attention of her companion.
Misao stared down at her fist for a moment wishing she could will the action to retract. She could feel his eyes intent upon her but she was not ready to face him. What would she say? Hi, how are you? I haven't seen you since … when… my gosh, since you tired to kill Himura… can you believe it has been that long? That would go over well. Steeling her nerve and gripping the blanket tighter to her, she looked up.
Her ocean blue met turquoise. A bit taken aback by the closeness as well as the unfamiliar expression of concern mixed with interest in his eyes. Misao jerked back as he also leaned away from the close proximity. Warmth spread across her cheeks and she mentally kicked herself for her reaction. He nearly killed your friends and yet you are sitting next to him naked and blushing. Stupid! Misao inhaled sharply and the let it out in a one long slow breath.
"Why did you help me?" Misao finally managed looking up at the man beside her. Enishi continued to look into the fire. The golden light dancing across his face and burnishing his white hair with a copper hue, after a lengthy pause he shook his head and turned to her. "To be honest, I don't know why myself." He shrugged and looked back to the fire.
Misao was a bit taken aback she had not meant to ask but why but rather to offer her thanks yet he did not seem at all upset that had not thanked him. Perhaps he did not deserve her thanks after all it was not the goodness of his heart that had saved her. Both sat in awkward silence. Misao shivered and pulled the blanket closer.
She too looked into the flames dancing about in the irori. Out of one eye she stole a glance at Enishi; he was again lost in thought. Misao allowed her eyes to roam about the room. There was one small grim covered window across from her and a door from which Misao felt a strong draught. The room was tiny and empty her gaze was again drawn to Enishi. He sat cross legged before the fire his ebony Chinese-style shirt buttoned to his chin. Beside him was a pile of clothes and Misao recognized her obi and some of her bandages. The rest was covered by a large fur-trimmed coat. Misao felt the blush rise into her face again as she realized that he must have been the one to undress her. Shifting nervously she looked from the clothes to Enishi and finally opened her mouth to speak when she was interrupted.
"No, they are still wet so you will have to stay as you are." His eyes never left the fire and Misao shut her mouth and stared incredulously back at him. While the blanket was nice it was still cold she shivered again. "Could I borrow your jacket then?" she queried uncertainly. He looked up at her and she could see the gold reflect in his eyes. "No, it's wet too." But instead of looking down he continued to stare at Misao his eyes searching her face. He doesn't remember me, Misao realized. Maybe it is better that way. Suddenly Enishi stood and walked over to her. His large tanned hands reached down and firmly grasped the hem of his long shirt then in a quick movement he lifted it over his head and removed it completely.
"Yukishiro-san what are you doing?" Misao stuttered and she cursed the tremble in her voice but could not hide her uncertainty. However at her worlds Enishi halted and turned to stare at her. His muscled torso was evident through the thin white undershirt he wore and his figure was sharply defined by the flickering flames. His intense green-blue eyes stared holes into her, searching. He stood over her for a moment shirt in hand, studying her, then he knelt beside her. "What does it look like I'm doing?" he murmured as he extended his hand towards her.
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Well I am again leaving off again at what seems to be a great place for this story to become Enishi/Misao but I am not sure if I am giving up totally on Aoshi. Who should I choose? I am still deciding, however my brain already has a redeeming s plot for Aoshi but the story seems well on its way to an alternate pairing. What to do, what to do?
~Merrow
Note: irori is an old-style Japanese fire place that is set into the floor in the middle of the room.