Disclaimer: RK belongs to Watsuki, I just like to borrower a few of the characters from time to time.

Warning: A lemon scene, fairly tame, as those things generally go (nothing explicit) and it doesn't take up much of the story.

Thanks to: P. Rico-san on the AMML for suggesting the challenge, I would have never come up with the idea of this story if not for her. Thanks to all the people and their nice comments and those who helped point out the mistakes that I made, they are appreciated. Thanks to Watsuki, who I am sure reads all of my fanfiction, for providing such wonderful characters and Jane Austen for the lovely words below. Thanks to the academy for… hee hee.

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You pierce my soul.

I am half agony, half hope.

Tell me not that I am too late,

That such precious feelings are gone forever.

I have loved none but you. J. Austen

How could this have happened? Aoshi wondered not for the first time. He knew the Ishin had their own spies, but for the Oniwabanshu to be lead into such a position, to be exposed as they were tonight. He cast a sidelong glance at the injured Hanya being carried on a stretcher as he walked beside him and hurriedly looked away again. He'd been hurt and although he had not sustained anything life threatening it was serious enough that he would be out of commission for a couple of weeks. This was a war and that meant that everyday armies were lead into traps and soldiers were killed and wounded.

But not my army… He vowed balling his hands into fists, feeling the painful bite as they dug through his gloves and into his palms. His hands had not stopped shaking since their retreat… he had not stopped shaking. He stole another quick glance at Hanya, feeling his injuries as if they were his own. Not my army and not my soldiers.

It was lucky for them that they got away with so few injuries, Hanya's being the worse by far, everyone else escaped with little more than a few scrapes and bruises. From a commanding position he'd not been involved in the initial fray, only joining the fight after realizing that it was a trap and they needed to get out with the quickest means possible. He'd wasted little time and with deadly precision moved through as many of the enemy as he could to allow for escape.

"Get Hanya inside and have him treated immediately." He ordered and stood aside to let the others walk by and into the Aoiya. "The rest of you as well, then get some rest."

Standing beside the rain barrel at the back of the Aoiya, Aoshi began absently pulling at one finger-less glove, his shaking hands accompanied by the damp, sticky, blood which worked like glue made it difficult to make any progress. Taking a deep breath, forcing himself to relax he began again only to pause as he looked down. His clothing was covered in the blood of his enemy; he could see where it darkened the fabric. He could feel where it had splashed on his face; the slight itch it was causing as it dried. He had slashed through them without a second thought, he had marched home with their blood covering him from head to toe and yet… and yet; he shivered at the violent urge that ran through him, not liking where his thoughts were wandering. Giving himself a mental shake Aoshi returned to his struggle with the gloves managing to remove one he dropped it, tearing the other in his haste to remove it, he flung it to the ground to rest next to its equally bloody twin.

He would not want Mirai to see him like this. Covered in blood, shaking like a stupid kid and afraid. That thought surprised him, his eyes narrowed as he removed the ladle from where it hung on the wall. He had not been afraid of anything in several years; he dipped the ladle into the rain barrel, watching absently as the water swirled around it then over the edges until it was full. It wasn't just anything that he was afraid of however, this was a fear of himself, of a terrible violence he was even now struggling to keep under control. It had surged through him after seeing Hanya and the others injured and he was certain he would have laid waste to half of Kyoto before he'd been satisfied. He had never thirsted for blood in this way, had never sought vengeance, he had merely upheld his duty to those he'd sworn loyalty. Lifting the ladle from the barrel he poured its contents slowly over his left hand, watching the blood of his enemy disappear into the small rocks that covered the ground. Thinking again that he would not want Mirai to see him like this.

"Aoshi-sama?"

He brought his head up immediately at the soft, hesitant call of his name from a few feet away. His eyes, wide with surprise met hers filled with concern.

"Mirai." He whispered.

"Are you hurt?" She asked her concern evident as she continued to inch closer.

Silence.

"No." Aoshi relinquished a reply after several moments. He spoke evenly and watched as her eyes widened in horror at the sight of his blood-spattered face and clothing, clearly visible now that she was closer. "I am not hurt."

"Aoshi… sama." Her gasp ended in a confused whisper, her hand reached out to him, hesitating momentarily before she pulled it back and dropped it to her side. He watched the gamut of emotions drift across her face, one being continually replaced by another as she pushed aside her shock, assessed what was before her and calmly asked him what happened.

"Please Mirai… " He had intended to tell her to leave but found he could not get the words out and so he remained silent as he refilled the ladle and poured it over his hand again, repeating it several times before she broke the silence.

"Do you think that I am somehow unaware of what it is the Oniwabanshu does?" Her quietly spoken question surprising him he looked up and met her eyes. She moved closer and continued. "I know what you are Aoshi-sama… I'm not afraid to see."

But I am afraid. He wanted to tell her. He wondered what she would say if he told her that he was afraid of himself of this violence that he could feel building in him. Would she still accept him, would she still claim to know and understand him? It was amazing that, despite the times they lived in, she was still so full of childlike wonder and acceptance. That being the very reason he had not wanted her to see him but somehow, he doubted that would change, that no matter what, she would always be as she was now.

"Mirai." He whispered and lifted his hands out so that she could see for herself how they shook. He watched as she slowly, cautiously, lowered her gaze to his hands. "I… am… I am…"

"You're shivering with cold!" She interrupted saving him from admitting he was afraid. She touched the surface of the rainwater with her fingertips experimentally and hissed as she pulled it back out in a hurry. "This water is like ice! Why are you getting cleaned up out here?"

"Misao is inside," He followed her lead, choosing to ignore what was really troubling him. "I did not want to risk her seeing me like this."

"At this late hour?" She scolded taking the ladle from him she put a small amount in the bucket that hung from a nearby hook. "Misao should have been sent to bed hours ago."

"True." Aoshi laughed and sat down on the nearby bench as she commanded. "However, as you know her so well, you must be aware that she does not always do what she is told."

"Sou da." She whispered thoughtfully then grew quiet as she worked free the knot she had tied in his blue scarf, unwound it from her wrist and dipped it into the bucket of water. "You really do take good care of her."

Aoshi did not reply he merely sat quietly while she wiped the blood from his face. Relinquishing his hands, one at a time, as she demanded, so that she could scrub them clean with the silk scarf. It really had been his favorite, not to mention very expensive.

"Some day she'll want to return the favor…" He was momentarily confused at her words then nodded as he realized she was still referring to Misao. "Will you let her, I wonder?"

"Will I be able to stop her?" He laughed quietly a mental image of Misao when she was determined came to mind and he doubted he would be able to stop that tenacious kid from doing anything she set her mind to.

"Yes." Mirai's voice affirmed quietly, the melancholy from the previous night when she spoke of the moon evident in her voice once again making him look at her sharply. "Your heart turned to ice, your cruel words and finally your silence will stop her."

"What are you talking about?" He asked his brows creasing in a confused frown, puzzling over her strange comment as much as the sudden sadness.

"Huh? Oh… Sorry." She stuttered then smiled, shaking her head as if to clear it. "I was… I was talking about… someone I know."

Aoshi's eyes narrowed at the hesitancy in her voice, the overly bright smile she used to cover up what she was really thinking. He was about to question her on whom the 'someone' was that she referred to when she interrupted him.

"Yatta! All finished!" She beamed taking both of his hands and holding them up so that he could indeed see that they were clean.

The blood wasn't the only thing gone he realized. His hands were no longer shaking and the fear and unease he felt earlier were gone; soothed away by her soft voice and cheerful nature. It was strange the effect she had on him and without even any conscious effort on her part or on his for that matter. Just being near her, gazing into her blue eyes, like he was now, evoked in him the desire to always have her near him, to share with her things he thought himself unable to share.

"Arigato Mirai." He whispered closing his fingers over her small hands that held his.

How did she manage to do this to him? He wondered as he gently pulled her toward him. How? He brushed his lips across hers in a gentle caress. How was it that he knew her so well, that she knew him so well after so short a time? He kissed the corner of her mouth, her cheek and her jaw. How? He pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin of her neck, she gasped and he felt her hands tighten in his. It was as if he had known her his entire life and simply been waiting for her, as if her heart understood his, but… how?

"'How', what?" She whispered somewhere near his ear making him start and pull back.

"Did I say that out loud?" He asked his voice filled with disbelief, his eyes wide with surprise stared into deep blue. She nodded in confirmation and was silent for several minutes then asked again what he meant.

"I am just amazed." He answered after a long pause, still lost in her blue eyes he continued almost absently. "Have I really only known you for ten days?"

He had expected her to laugh at his stupidity and so he was at a loss when her eyes clouded over with sorrow rather than amusement. He let go her hands and placed them on her shoulders giving her a gentle squeeze.

"Yes, it has..." She affirmed quietly after several moments. She lifted her hand and brushed at the hair that fell across his forehead. She tried to smile past the sad look in her eyes and failed. "Ten days…"

The words echoed over and over in her head, '…ten days… ten days… ten days'. The overwhelming sadness she felt at his words made absolutely no sense for she was not really parting from him; when she left here tonight, when she stepped into her own time Aoshi would be there. Still, it would be different; there would be no smooth hands that held hers, she would not feel the soft caress of his mouth against hers as she had only moments ago and how she would miss it. She had known him her entire life in one sense but the part of him that let her close enough to touch him, could still find the means to smile, that the one before her now would someday bury deep inside himself; she had only known for ten days.

"Yes, it has…" Misao agreed brushing back the hair that touched the tips of his eyelashes, unable to keep from smiling when he made no move to stop her as she knew he would in her own time, when he was older but still just as beautiful. "Ten days…"

"Mirai, dooshite?" He asked concern evident in his voice making her wonder for what must have been a thousand times how she was ever going to say goodbye to this man. She should not have come here at all, she should have stayed in the woods, pinned the note she'd written him to a tree with one of her kunai and returned to her own time. But she could not find it in herself to leave and when he did not appear, despite her better judgment she had come here looking for him.

It was strange the vulnerability he did not seem afraid to show her, the need for comfort he displayed. It was so unlike the Aoshi she knew who was never vulnerable, who didn't need anything. But, that wasn't true, knowing this Aoshi had taught her a great deal about the other, they were the same man after all. One of them had merely learned to hide things better as he got older and it was that one, she was certain, that was perhaps more vulnerable and more in need of comfort than the one before her now. Still, gazing into his blue-gray eyes, it would not make saying goodbye to this one any easier and Misao was glad she had taken the time to write the letter that remained tucked inside her obi.

He climbed to his feet; his hands dropping from her shoulders he stepped away from her. She stared incredulously at this sudden change in his behavior wondering what could have possibly made him react in such a way and then she felt it, someone was approaching.

"Okashira?" The voice called quietly from the darkness. "We have news."

"Hai." Aoshi acknowledged and she could feel the presence of the messenger disappear just as quickly as he came. It looked as though she was going to tell him goodbye sooner than she expected.

"Aoshi-sama, I have something to give you before I leave tonight." She reached into the folds of her obi for the note.

"This will not take long." He grabbed her wrist before she could remove the note, leading her through Okina's garden toward the doorway that led into the Aoiya. His intention suddenly becoming clear to her Misao dug her heals in, to which he paid no attention and continued to haul her along behind him.

"Aoshi-sama." She protested. "I shouldn't be here, you have matters that you need to tend to and I… I should go."

"Don't make me order you to stay Mirai." He stopped and turned back and she could see in his eyes that he would if he had to. She had so little time left here; it certainly wouldn't hurt to spend all that remained of that time with him. The younger version of herself would be asleep so there was very little chance of her breaking the one rule of coming face to face with her while she was in this time. Smiling she nodded her acquiescence to Aoshi who smiled in return and let go of her wrist, letting her follow him on her own.

He left her standing in the hallway just as he had the other night when he'd brought her to clean up her wounds; no one had passed by or come out of their room yet but the longer she stood here the greater the chance that someone would. She eyed the doorway that was once her room warily, the shoji were firmly closed but sounds of a restless little girl could be heard on the other side.

Damn it! She thought irritated as she could hear the little hiccups that indicated the beginning of her crying; Misao knew what was coming next. Why didn't they make me behave better?

At the sounds of little feet hitting the floor and the sobs growing louder she quickly headed down the hall in the opposite direction. She slipped into the first open shoji she came to, sliding it shut just in time to muffle the sound of her own childhood voice wailing, quietly at first then louder and more desperate, 'Aoshi-sama… Aoshi-sama!'

Like clockwork she could hear the light, almost noiseless steps moving across the floor, she stood silent and still listening for the magical words from the only voice that could soothe the child when she was in this state.

"Why are you crying Misao?"

She could almost see him squatting down in front of the little girl, her arms going about his neck and him lifting her, carrying her back to her futon. He would stay with her until she fell asleep which never took very long and she would imagine that even heaven could not compare to how she felt with him beside her.

Misao sighed wistfully at the memory of how she felt back then, sometimes she wished things could be like that again.

The faint smell of antiseptic drifted in the air and she wrinkled her nose then she noticed the faint sounds of breathing and realized that this room had not been empty despite the door being open. She turned her head and could see that someone was in here, someone that was injured by the looks of the supplies that were sitting on the floor next to the futon. Her eyes drifted to the person's face and her heart skipped several beats.

"Hanya!" Misao gasped quietly as she recognized the injured figure lying on the futon. She felt the tears filling her eyes and clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from sobbing aloud while her other hand clutched at the sudden ache in her chest. She'd lived with the pain of his death for nearly two years and now here he was, before her and still alive. She knew she should leave, she should be thankful at simply being able to meet Aoshi in this past time and not tempt the fates by remaining here and being discovered; still, she did not turn away.

He's drugged. She thought at hearing his deep, heavy, breathing. She inched closer; he failed to respond to her presence and she doubted he would wake up from his drug-induced sleep. She knelt beside the futon, quietly watching his chest rise and fall with each breath.

I shouldn't be here. She thought silently wiping at her tears and without any intention of doing so her hand was suddenly reaching, lowering to where his lay still, atop the blanket that covered him. She stopped short of touching him, with the realization that what she was about to do might wake him. But, after tonight she would not be back here again. He would be lost to her forever once more. The opportunity to say all the things that she wished she had upon learning of his death would not come again. She hesitated no longer and closed the small distance remaining between her fingertips and the back of his rough hand. She felt him twitch slightly as her hand covered his but then he was still.

Fresh tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, wetting the same tracks that she had only moments ago wiped dry. She lowered her head, squeezed her eyes shut tight and clenched her fist in her lap, all in an effort to stop her tears. They simply would not be contained, however and she soon felt the droplets hitting her thigh; having gathered and grown heavy they fell from her chin. She could not say how long she sat there; time seemed to stop with the onslaught of her tears, suddenly jolting forward again as she felt the slow movement of his hand turning over and his fingers curling around hers.

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide as they met his through the mask, the only face that she had ever known him to have. For one who had so much to say to this man she was suddenly shocked into silence, the only sound she was able to emit was that of her sniffling.

"Misao-chan… dooshite?" He whispered his voice groggy from the drugs. "Why are you crying?"

How? She wondered unable to fathom how he knew that it was she who was with him when he knew her to be a small child and the person that was now holding his hand, very clearly was not. It was quite possible that he was acting on his chi sensing abilities only, the drugs might make it difficult for his eyesight to focus but seven or seventeen, she was still Misao and he would certainly be able to sense this.

"Hanya." His name all she could manage through her sniffles.

"Misao-chan." She felt the light touch of his hand on her cheek, just as he used to do when she was a child. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I… I miss you." She choked out quietly. For an eternity I will miss you.

"I missed you too." He wiped at the endless tears spilling from her eyes. "But Aoshi-sama brought you back home; there's no need for you to cry now."

She nodded, sniffled again and tried her best to return the smile she could see in his eyes. One would never know he smiled simply by looking at the twisted mouth of the mask he wore, his smile always showed in his eyes and she never failed to find it shining back at her. She had taken for granted the many things he had given her, not material things but things that meant so much more. Although she knew that she could not change the events of the future, that in a year he would leave her behind at the Aoiya. In eight years his life would end without her ever seeing him again, at least she could be certain he would know that all he had done was appreciated.

"Thank you Hanya." She sniffled again pulling his hand away from her cheek and holding it in both of hers. She noticed his eyes narrowing and continued before he could ask what she meant. "For always being so kind, for looking out for me and teaching me so many things. You have been the best Oniichan a girl could ask for."

"Misao-chan…" He whispered and she could tell he was overwhelmed.

Time. She prayed clutching tighter to his hand, her eyes squeezing shut tight against the beginning of new tears. I have no right to ask any more of you but please… please stop.

"Ne! Misao-chan?"

"Hai" She answered him feeling the futility of her prayer.

"Aoshi-sama will be upset if he finds you in here." He warned her. "You should be in bed."

She smiled and chuckled lightly through her tears.

"Hai… Oniichan." She teased earning a soft chuckle from behind the mask. Lifting his hand once again she kissed it, feeling him tighten his grasp briefly before she returned it to his side on the futon and rose to her feet. "Oyasumi Hanya."

"Oyasumi Misao-chan."

She walked to the shoji and stepped out turning back to glance at him once more and whispering silently, 'sayonara' before sliding the door shut. Standing motionless on the other side, unable to move; her head bowed, she closed her eyes tight trying unsuccessfully to stop her tears. She did not know how long she stood there before she felt the light pressure of a familiar hand on her shoulder, opening her eyes at the familiar whisper of her name, or the name she had assumed in this time. She felt herself being led away, the distinctive sound of a shoji door sliding closed and light footsteps coming closer to where she stood in the middle of the room. She was in Aoshi's room and his arms, protective and warm wrapped around her from behind pulling her back against him, he rest his chin on the top of her head.

"Hanya." She squeaked out in her quivering, tear-laden voice before he could ask her what was wrong. "I saw Hanya."

She felt his arms tighten about her then loosen as he lifted his hands to her shoulders and turned her around to face him. She slipped her arms around his waist and held on, her hands fisting in the fabric of his clothing she buried her face against his chest and continued to cry, for Hanya, for Aoshi and for herself.

Aoshi held the trembling girl in his arms and let her weep. He completely understood her feelings at seeing Hanya injured; where she reacted with tears, however, he reacted with anger, a frighteningly, violent anger that made his own body tremble with the effort to control it. Just as he had been soothed earlier by her voice, he was now by her quiet tears. It was as if she knew that he had long since lost the ability to shed tears for others and was providing him the means to do so, through her, as she wept they both wept. His arms tightened around her, his anger gone; his trembling hands now steady.

He did not know how long they stood there before her crying subsided into the occasional hiccup and then finally only the odd sniffle. He could feel the dampness of his clothing where her tears had soaked through the fabric. He kissed her flower scented hair on top of her head then pulled back and cupped her cheek, lifting her face up to see her liquid blue eyes.

She is so beautiful. He thought, his thumb drawing small circles gently over her cheek then moving to brush lightly across her mouth. So beautiful and so familiar, it was as if he'd known her his entire life and been waiting for her, like a lover in a past life, if one believed in such things. She could feel it too; he could see it plainly in her eyes that stared back at him. He slowly lowered his lips and kissed away the final tear that still clung to her cheek.

"Stay with me Mirai." He whispered against her skin. "Don't go."

"Aoshi-s… "

Not tonight. He thought as the pressure of his mouth cut off the honorific that inevitably followed whenever she spoke his name. Tonight he was simply Aoshi.

He tightened his arms about her waist pulling her closer. She stepped into his embrace willingly and surrendered when he sought to deepen their kiss, letting a small moan escape into his mouth. The heavy, silk, rope of her braided hair brushed against his arms and he could not stem the shiver in reaction to the erotic feel and wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to have those silken locks spilling over him. To tangle his hands into the blue-black mass of satin, free of the confining braid she always wore.

He closed a hand around her braid and ran down the length of it, reaching the small clasp that held it in place he slipped it deftly from her hair. Opening his hand he let the ring fall from his fingers to the floor where it rolled noisily until it came in contact with something and stopped.

He felt her hands leaving his shoulders, drifting up as her arms snaked around his neck, her fingers burying themselves in his hair. His own fingers going to the long mane of black silk that had nearly un-woven from the braid, pulling free the last bit that remained interlaced. He was unable to stem the moan from deep inside as his hands tangled within the mass of her long, black hair.

"Stay Mirai." He whispered against her mouth between kisses. "Stay with me."

There was an imposing silence as she grew completely still and he waited.

"Yes." She breathed and the press of her lips quickly followed her warm breath against his neck.

He would not give her the chance to change her mind and without hesitation he lifted her chin and his mouth closed hungrily over hers, feeling her respond in kind almost immediately. Aoshi tightened his arms around her waist, his hands sliding to the small of her back to pull her in tighter against him. He groaned against her mouth as the feel of her pressing against him heated up his flesh through his clothing.

His lips left hers to trail kisses down her throat to her shoulder, his hands making quick work of the complicated bow of her obi at her back; he enjoyed the erotic sound of the rustling silk as it unwound from her waist and pooled at their feet. Her shirtfront gaped open without the obi to hold it closed and she flinched when his hands touched her bare skin. She was so soft beneath his hands, he spread his fingers wide across her waist, and the feel of her was overwhelming. He brought his hands up to rest lightly on her shoulders, then keeping his touch feather light he slid his fingers beneath the fabric of her uniform and slipped it from her shoulders. Lifting his lips from hers he looked, for the first time, at what he would believe until he died was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"You are so beautiful Mirai." He spoke his feelings. He lifted one hand and cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb across her lips, swollen from his kiss. One stray lock of hair hung over her shoulder and with his fingertips he trailed along its path. Brushing lightly over her creamy skin, her chest rising and falling rapidly under his hand as he moved his fingers over the tip of her breast. She inhaled sharply and his eyes sought hers once more, encouraged when he watched them flutter closed under his caress, her teeth biting into her bottom lip and a delicate moan emanating from her throat. He leaned in to once again touch his lips to hers and he could not help but whisper again. "You are so beautiful."

Aoshi pulled her hands from where they clutched at his shoulders down to her sides and held them there while he kissed her. He released them and slowly traced his fingertips up her arms feeling her shiver under his light caress. He paused at her shoulders, his fingers rest lightly against her skin, his mouth moved away from hers and she lifted her chin, invitingly. As his lips kissed her neck his fingers resumed their path over her shoulders and across her collarbone, his mouth following close behind, kissing and nipping at her flesh lightly with his teeth. His hands drifted down to her breasts, his fingers brushed over them lightly and again his mouth followed.

She had her hands in his hair, pulling him against her moaning aloud with pleasure. He could not help but smile in satisfaction at her abandonment, knowing that it was he who drove her there, the he could send her further over the edge if he wished. He straightened and brushed his lips across her neck before returning to her mouth. He pressed a hand into the small of her back wanting her closer, wanting to mold her body against his, he felt her small hands pulling and tugging at his shirt, she managed to get it over one shoulder but no further. The press of her naked breasts against him, the feel of her soft hands moving over his skin and finally the feel of her mouth planting kisses across his chest became too much for even his efforts at self-control. Lifting her off the floor he moved to the futon and set her down, she helped him with his shirt and soon they were both without their clothing, a tangle of arms and legs on the futon.

He thought again how lovely she looked, her hair fanned out beneath her, the way her pale skin glowed; his mouth was suddenly on hers, kissing her fiercely before moving on to her neck, the hollow of her throat then lower. His mouth was everywhere on her, his lips, his teeth, branding her body with his kiss marks. There was no part of her that his lips did not touch and she was writhing beneath the hands that followed the path of his mouth. They were both on fire, burning within flames that had only one means to be extinguished, to burn even hotter as one. He moved over her and could see the flames leaping in her eyes, she kissed fire into his mouth, burning him further with her lips and as he sank into her he could only think, 'burn me, burn me, burn me.'

----

I was wrong. Misao thought looking down at Aoshi still asleep on the futon. I was wrong when I thought that it wouldn't hurt to spend all that remained of my time here with him. It was hurting like hell right now just trying to leave but looking at the window across the room she could tell that the night was close to being over and she had no choice but to go before he awoke. She was surprised that he had slept through her climbing out of bed and getting dressed. She had not wanted to press her luck by taking the time to braid her hair, she had, in fact, stuffed the note she had written him inside the metal clasp and set it in the empty space on the futon she had only moments ago vacated. She stepped through the shoji door that she had quietly slid open and turned back. Just one more look. She promised herself.

"Aoshi-sama… sayonara." She whispered brokenly then slid the door shut and moved on silent feet through the Aoiya and outside. She slipped on her shoes and tread quietly through Okina's garden, stopping when she saw the blue scarf that she had used earlier to clean the blood from Aoshi's face and hands. She had rinsed it in the rainwater and hung it to dry and there it remained, billowing in the light breeze. She lifted it from the back of the bench and carried it with her into the forest.

Aoshi stirred, something was disturbing the first peaceful night of sleep he'd had in ages, the warmth that had surrounded him earlier was gone, he could hear the rustling of silk, of someone moving and a voice… was someone calling him? Even though he was still blanketed by the clouded haze of sleep, long practice had taught him not to ignore the intuition nagging at him and he slowly opened his eyes. He turned his head and the emptiness beside him brought everything rushing back. He sat up quickly, his eyes searching every corner and finding no trace of Mirai anywhere. It was as if she had never been there, except that he could still smell the flowery scent of her hair, feel the smoothness of her skin against him. His hand touched something cool and he looked down to find the gold ring that held her hair, he picked it up and immediately noticed the paper inside.

A letter? His heart began to race as he recalled exactly what it was that had woken him up, the whisper of his name followed by 'sayonara'. His fist tightened around the gold clasp that held the piece of paper he did not want to unfold. He knew what it meant, not once when they had parted company in those ten nights had she ever told him goodbye and now she had even left him a letter. He could feel no trace of her near him.

"Mirai where did you go?" His quiet voice ringing loud in the silence of his room. He opened his hand and stared at the gold ring that he had removed from her hair hours ago. He did not want to read the note inside because he knew what it would tell him; that she was gone. If he didn't read it he could continue to look for her, to search every inch of Japan until he found her. He let out a small laugh, she had no hope of hiding from him, he was too good at what he did, and he would find her. He looked to through the window and the smile from his laughter faded as he noticed that the stars were fading in the fast approaching dawn and the moon had disappeared, bringing back the words she spoke the night before…

"The moon. It's waning."

"It always does." He had told her. "This is the law of nature."

"Only one day left… and the full moon will be over."

"Ah."

She really was gone and although he had not realized the significance of those words the night before, but now, with the letter he now held in the palm of his hand he did. She would not be back and he would never find her, no matter how long and hard he looked. He pulled the letter from inside the small ring and unfolded it. It was his eyes that read the words scrawled across the paper but it was her voice that he heard saying goodbye…

Aoshi-sama. No matter how much I may wish it, the laws of time will not allow me to stay and so, just as the moon disappears so must I. There were so many things I wanted to tell you during our time together but I did not have the courage, even now, writing this letter, knowing that it is you who is going to read these words inhibits me. Still, I know that if I do not say these things to you I will regret it for the rest of my life and knowing how I lose all sense of self when I'm with you I am forced to write them down.

I love you. Please don't think I'm being foolish by saying this, or that I'm too young to know my own heart and mind. I have known you my entire life and yes I have loved you from the beginning in one way or another; love evolves, however, just like people do and I am no longer a little girl. What I feel for you is the love of a woman for a man; it's that simple and even if you find you cannot return my feelings, mine will not change.

I hope that you will learn to be more forgiving, to others and to yourself. We all do things that we regret later, some may seem unforgivable but those who love you, your family, your friends will always forgive your mistakes. Some day soon this war is going to end Aoshi-sama, please do not let it be the end of you as well.

I must not have had as much to say as I thought for my mind is suddenly blank, if you take nothing else from this letter I would like you to at least remember that wherever you go, whatever happens, please know that I am always with you. Always

1 year later…

Aoshi stood in the small clearing for the first time in many months; he had been hopeful in the beginning, believing that she would return and he'd continued to visit this spot again and again waiting for her. She did not return, he had finally accepted that she never would. It was odd and very ironic that he should choose this day, the day that she had left, to leave himself. The war was over, his side had lost; he'd been offered several valuable posts within the new government but he could not turn his back on the others. What were Hanya and the other old-fashioned warriors who had served him so faithfully to do? He made his choice; they would all leave together and find work that suited their skills.

He had Okina's promise to look after Misao and made his good byes to those who would remain at the Aoiya. This was his final goodbye. But how could it be goodbye when she said she would always be with him. His hand clutched the small gold ring in the pocket of his trench coat. Wherever he went, whatever happens, she would always be with him. He took comfort in those words of hers, knowing that it was true.

"Let's go Hanya." He turned as he spoke, the others falling in step behind him.

8 years later…

His arms were aching, his knuckles bloody and stinging as he surveyed the four upright stones over the recently disturbed soil. They were gone, Hanya and the other Oniwabanshu were gone, and all that remained of them was lying beneath the dirt, marked by the stones that stared coldly back at him. Aoshi shivered, he had not felt so cold, so weak and so alone in his entire life.

What happened Mirai? I thought you said you would always be with me? His thoughts silent as he looked at the small gold ring he held in the palm of his hand. I don't feel you with me now, I feel nothing now, except that terrible violence that frightened me so long ago.

Slipping his hands into his pockets Aoshi closed his eyes against the four stones before him only to have the vision of them being murdered before him once again. His eyes flew open and he swayed on his feet for a moment before righting himself. Again he could only stare at the four stones.

"The war was not the end of me Mirai, but this…" He whispered as he walked away. "this will be."

---

Misao sat in the clearing of the forest; it had been five days since her visits to the past had come to an end. The kiss marks that Aoshi had left on her body were fading but the memory of him imprinting her with them was not. She still had her Aoshi-sama here but she had carefully avoided him since that night. A little embarrassed and afraid, that wasn't so bad, she could deal with those feelings but there were other feelings that she could not deal with. The closeness she had shared with him, having him hold her, touch her in the way she had always wanted him to then to come back to the same man and have him treat her like a stranger or worse, a child. It was better to avoid him all together than give him the chance to hurt her, even if he didn't realize it. Still, tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, she missed him terribly.

A shadow fell across her and she need not look up to know who it was. No one else moved so silently through a forest and no one else could make her feel as he did simply by being near.

"Why are you crying Misao?" He asked quietly towering over her.

The same words she had heard him speak to the upset child in the past time. It grated on her nerves to know that he would use the same tone, the same words as if she were still that child. She was seventeen, a woman, couldn't he see that? Would he ever see that?

"I know that we are not equals Aoshi-sama, that my accomplishments will never be so great as yours." She did not look at him as she spoke. She was angry and she was tired of not being taken seriously, of still being seen as nothing more than a child, especially by him. "Still, don't I deserve some measure of respect from you?"

He was quiet for a long time, if his shadow had not blocked out the sun she might have thought he left her there. He stepped closer and she closed her eyes against his nearness.

"Don't think so little of yourself." He spoke softly and her eyes flew open to look up at him. "You have accomplished a great many things and you have more than my respect."

Huh? What the hell was this? She thought watching him grow closer as he crouched down in front of her. Did he mean what he said? She knew he never said anything without meaning but still her own self-doubt where he was concerned refused to allow her to accept his words for what they were.

"Aoshi-s…" She began but the press of his index finger against her lips stopped her. Her eyes widened even further as she stared at him, wondering what could have brought on this turn of events. A moment ago she'd been hell bent on avoiding him because of his coldness and now here he was, seeking her out and behaving anything but cold toward her.

"You were right you know." His soft voice surprised her again. He removed his finger from her lips and held his fisted hand out in front of her. "No matter what happened, no matter where I went, you were always with me."

Her heart began to pound in her chest as she heard the words from her letter repeated back to her. She watched as his fingers uncurled and there, resting in his palm was the gold clasp from her hair.

"Even if I didn't always realize it." He whispered. "You were always with me."

She reached out to take it from his hand only to have his fingers close over hers and pull her to him; his arms wrapped around her and held her in a fierce embrace. She didn't care if he squeezed the life out of her at that moment; she slid her arms around his waist and buried her face against his neck.

"I'm sorry it took me so long Misao." She heard him whisper followed by the soft feel of his lips against her hair as he pressed a kiss upon it.

The feel of her arms sliding around his waist, her small hands on his back as she returned his embrace and her warm cheek pressed against his chest. He was starting to tremble with emotion and for several minutes he could not speak as time slowed and then stopped.

"I'm sorry it took me so long Misao." He finally whispered brushing a kiss against her hair then grew silent again.

It was the same, she was the same… her warmth, her serenity, everything about her invading his senses, just like before when he held her. He drew in a long steadying breath in an attempt to gain control of the chaotic scramble of his emotions. He brought his hand around to cup her cheek as he pulled back to look at her, brushing the wispy strands back and tucking them behind her ear, losing himself in her blue eyes.

"How long?" Her soft voice questioned him after several minutes of silence. "How long have you known?"

How long had he known? He wondered absently as his fingers trailed lightly over her cheek, her brow and across her forehead as if familiarizing himself with the feel of her again. He could recall their time together in the past with perfect clarity and he had often thought then that she was somehow familiar, like the lover from a past life he recalled thinking. That was more the truth now, for they had not been lovers until, what for her was but a few nights ago. He could feel the heat invading his body at the memory of that night, of her skin against his, a night that there may still prove to be consequences of. That was a sobering thought and not something he would choose this moment to talk to her about, although he must very soon; innocent as she was in respect to such things he doubted she had even considered it.

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers, recalling so many things, things that were painful, things that he would wish forgotten but knew could not be, should not be. Those things were what shaped him, made him who is, the one she loved enough to manipulate time for and they should not be wished away. Perhaps he might have felt differently after the death of Hanya and the other Oniwabanshu knowing that Misao and Mirai were the same and that she was there, in Kyoto, that he at least had something, or rather someone to return to. He had not known however and upon his return, in his demented, rage-filled state, he was certain that it would have made no difference. He might have seen Misao and been comforted, the violence soothed as she had done before but more likely he would have still seen what he believed at that time to be the ghost of that girl he'd met so many years ago. Mirai's ghost, staring at him with eyes so filled with hurt and betrayal after his attack on Okina that he'd turned his back on her, unable to bear the accusation in her eyes, the whisper of her one worded question…

'Why?' She had asked, the hurt in her eyes echoed in her voice and he could not bear it… what right did her ghost have haunting him? She had promised she would always be with him and he'd felt that she always was, until Kanryu's gatling gun pierced the room with the sound of death. Then he'd felt cold and alone, with no one to comfort him… no one and nothing but rage; rage so clear that it was almost brilliant in its purity. Rage so violent that he and many others, including her, would bear scars from its aftermath.

In his dance with insanity he did not welcome the sight of her, the obvious hurt in her eyes, even if she was a ghost he did not want to see her again and whispered his thoughts aloud before walking away. He nearly halted in his retreat when he was certain he could hear her crying, he had paused for a split second before continuing on; almost laughing as he recalled that she had merely been an apparition and therefore any tears that she shed were imagined as well. It wasn't until his fight with Himura at Shishio's stronghold that his frazzled psyche had begun to piece the fragments together. Once Himura knocked him into the next week with his succession technique, was bid to start answering for her tears and left to face Mirai's ghost again only to be told that it was Misao, all fell into place. She… Misao, through the sheer force of her will or a gift from the gods had somehow managed to come back in time. He spent many hours in contemplation upon his return to the Aoiya, wondering how she had managed it and why he had failed to recognize her. As to the how, he concluded that he simply did not care, she had done it and he was glad for it. His failure to recognize her was that he had simply failed to look… the truth was there all along, the uncanny way she'd felt so familiar, as if he'd always known her, the flowery scent of her hair just like Misao's. The things Misao said as a little girl that would trigger thoughts of Mirai, her blue eyes, beautiful and endless. He opened his eyes to gaze into the cerulean eyes that even now captivated him with their brightness. From little girl to young adult, Misao or Mirai, they never changed.

How long had he known she asked him… In his heart he had always known, just as he'd known that she was always with him, as she said she would be.

"I have always known Misao." He whispered lowering his lips until only a hair's breadth remained between them, smiling as her eyes fluttered closed. He brushed his lips against hers lightly, feeling the trembling of hers beneath. He reached down and pulled her hands from around his waist and climbed to his feet, dragging her up with him.

"Aoshi-sama?" He flinched at the softly spoken question, she really had no idea how much he hated hearing that title from her; it was something that did not belong between the two of them and he would definitely put an end to it… later.

"Come." He told her taking her hand and heading toward the Aoiya. "We have a great deal to make up for… ne Mirai?"

He stifled her laughter with the pressure of his lips against hers, pulling her against him briefly before resuming their walk back to the Aoiya and the privacy of his room.

----

He could hear the birds chirping through the window as the night gave way to dawn. He had lain awake for most of the night curled into her side, a possessive arm about her waist, his head against her breast moving with the rise and fall of her breathing. He had thought to ask her how she had managed to perform the miracle that she did and had been on the verge of doing so but the thought vanished as quickly as it came. The past was best left where it was, he was content just being with her again, feeling her warm body next to his and listening to her heart beating beneath his ear. He had so many things he wanted to tell her.

She moved beneath him, her body growing restless as it sensed morning's advance, absently running a hand over his back, sending a shiver racing up his spine.

"Mmm… Aoshi-sama." She whispered sleepily.

The first thing he would talk to her about is dropping that damned 'Aoshi-sama' business; he didn't want any formality between them, no separation in status, just Aoshi and Misao, nothing more.