Well, here's the next installment, I wanted this part to be further along but my brain is not cooperating

Well, here's the next installment, I wanted this part to be further along but my brain is not cooperating. Arigato Nina-chan for pre- reading, Moderator Misao for suggesting such a great challenge and Watsuki for giving us such fun subjects like Aoshi & Misao to play with.

Disclaimers: As I just said... Watsuki gave us Aoshi & Misao as well as the rest of RK. The poem as it states was written by Nabi.

Warnings: A kiss

Almost forgot... Japanese words in the story

Ano toki - that time

yukata - a sort of light cotton bath robe

dooshite - what's wrong

gomen - sorry

======================================================================

We have seen countless stone fortresses

in the land of worldly fame

And not one could withstand the exploding sigh

of a broken heart.---------------------Nâbî.

She was beyond angry and if her stomping up the stairs to her room had not alerted everyone in the Aoiya to this, the shoji which only just now ceased rattling after her flinging it shut so violently would certainly have done so. If she'd applied even the slightest bit more force the doors would now be a pile of splinters and scrap paper on the floor.

Just what the hell did Aoshi think he was playing at? She wondered as she angrily paced the length of her room, back and forth back and forth as she yanked and pulled at her obi which remained frustratingly in place under her shaking fingers. He had hardly spoken two words to her in as many months and for him to speak in such a way, as if she were still a child. She almost hated him in that moment almost wanted to hurt him, to speak to him in the same hurtful manner that he had addressed her. Misao paused in her task of unwinding the obi from around her waist as the realization of her thoughts hit her full on. She would never have allowed anyone to cause him pain in the past, let alone want to do so herself; for her to admit such a thing, even as a silent, unspoken thought, was beyond comprehension

What had happened to the two of them? She wondered as she proceeded to undress, her movements growing calm and slow as her thoughts became more preoccupying; she lay her carefully folded uniform in the drawer of her small chest. Things had not always been like this between them, they had once been very close and she had shared everything with him, her thoughts and ideas, her pain and her happiness. He was her hero, her teacher, her confidante, and her friend until… ano toki.

=

For what seemed like the hundredth time that night Misao wiped away the droplet of sweat that rolled from where it beaded on her forehead and over her brow, before it could reach her eye. She had learned her lesson when it had taken nearly half an hour for the excruciating sting to stop after the first one had found it's way there. She had long since tossed aside her blanket and opened the window in an attempt to find some relief from the oppressive heat of a mid-summer evening in Kyoto. She had given up counting the number of times she'd tossed and turned from her back to her stomach and back again. Her last resort was an effort at meditation, but as she stared up at the ceiling, giving every effort to clear her mind of everything, she could not escape the miserable feeling of the sweat that was now settled between her body and the futon. Unable to bear it any longer she climbed to her feet, dressing in her lightest yukata, made of cotton, well worn and on the verge of being threadbare she deserted her room for someplace more temperate.

Quietly making her way downstairs, tip-toeing out of habit, knowing that those she shared this house with heard her the moment she put her foot on the floor, so expertly were they all trained. Misao made her way through the stifling Aoiya, moving past shoji that were normally closed to any passer-by as the occupant slept on the other side, were now flung wide to allow any movement of air to flow through and hopefully, cool them off.

She sighed as she stepped through the doorway into the night. The relief wasn't much; a slight breeze that was barely enough to lift a few strands of her hair, nothing more. Still she welcomed it, however slight; it felt better than being inside. About to make her way down the steps she halted as she realized there was another occupant in the garden. Aoshi. He was sitting on the bench near the pond, his back to her; even with her eyes closed she would know it was him.

Misao stood still; half tempted to go elsewhere for her relief from the overbearing heat. Not that she didn't want to be near him, quite the contrary; she always wanted to be near him. She had loved him her entire life, a love that constantly evolved as she grew up; in her earliest years he'd been her guardian and as such had taught her so many things. Through out her adolescence he'd been more like a brother whom she worshipped like a hero and now… now her feelings, her 'love' for him was evolving yet again.

It was strange; she could not even recall when it had begun. It was as if she woke up one day in a state of confusion, imagining what it would be like to feel his mouth against hers, to feel all those things that Okon and Omasu blushed and giggled about when they discussed men. Suddenly everything between them was different, for her at least; she could not look at him without blushing, she could not even pass by him in the hall without something fluttering deep inside at the thought of brushing against him. And just like now, she could not happen upon him without staring openly and wondering, just what would it be like…

"Are you going to lurk behind me the entire night Misao?" His quiet voice surprised her, interrupting her thoughts.

Her heart began to race at the mere sound of his voice, shaky and nervous Misao found she couldn't raise her voice to speak or prompt her feet into action. At her failure to move Aoshi turned to look over his shoulder at her, his blue eyes barely visible beneath his dark hair that fell over them.

"Misao?" The concerned question in his voice propelled her into motion, she descended the steps and moved on hesitant feet to join Aoshi, taking the empty space he indicated beside him. She should have realized that he would sense her there, her eyes had been on him too long and her thoughts so filled with him; she would have been easy to detect.

They sat silent for some time, Misao trying to hide the nervous fluttering that his nearness invoked and appear as though things were just as they had always been between them, Aoshi was lost in his own thoughts which she could not even guess at. Her eyes drifted over his blue-black hair as a light breeze ruffled the silken strands. How she wished to run her fingers through those fine threads, to gently brush the veil of his hair aside and get a glimpse of those beautiful eyes of his, just as she had used to do as a child. The small smile the memory produced faded immediately as the picture her mind created was anything but that of a child. Misao swallowed hard and fought down the obvious blush she could feel creeping up her neck and spreading over her face. She had dreamed of him, or rather of herself standing before him as he sat on this very bench. Her hands cupping his face, his arms around her waist pulling her closer, his face lifted in anticipation as her lips descended toward his. She quickly lowered her gaze and not unlike Aoshi, the hair not contained by her braid fell forward and partially covered her face from anyone who might see.

"What brings you out here at this hour?" Aoshi asked breaking the silence with his quiet voice. "Is something troubling you or has the heat simply made you restless?"

"I… I was hoping to cool off." Misao stammered glancing up briefly at his question catching the slightest bit of blue revealed from behind his hair. She looked away again immediately, the whole situation was making her more confused and uncomfortable, her own feelings, her inability to deal with them and now, he must have noticed she was not herself tonight, as well as all those other times. Normally it was her who broke the long silences between them with her questions or prattle about nothing in particular.

Misao reprimanded herself silently for her wandering thoughts as she noticed Aoshi staring at her intently and she quickly stammered out a few words in an attempt to cover for her strange behavior. "I… it was very… uh… stifling in my room… the entire Aoiya actually."

"Aa." He agreed nodding slowly still watching her.

She once again lowered her eyes; her fingers busy with the end of her braid, a nervous habit she had long held onto which now served to occupy traitorous hands that longed to touch him. What would he think if she gave into that desire, if she simply reached up and brushed the tips of her fingers over his hair or caressed his cheek? She raised her eyes to steal another quick glance at him only to find him still staring at her with that odd intensity that made her look hurriedly away.

"Misao what's wrong?" His concerned voice pulled her eyes back to his; she was about to tell him nothing was wrong when he reached out and pulled the end of her braid from her fingers. He stared at it with grave interest for several minutes taking up her ritual habit before her small gasp brought his eyes up to meet hers once again, that same intensity that had forced her to look away earlier kept her from doing so this time. "Your childhood habits have not changed."

He had always been able to read her so easily. Normally she would have been pleased at such a sign that he knew her so well, that they were so close she could keep nothing from him; now however, it only served to validate fears she'd refused to admit and now had no choice but to do so. It wasn't her newly discovered feelings that frightened and confused her so much. What did frighten and confuse her was that Aoshi might not return them, not even that really, more that he could not return them to someone he still viewed as a child. She had shunned all attempts made by Okon and Omasu to get her to act more lady like and dress in a kimono, preferring to practice with Hanya or go on assignment. She still preferred those things and did not believe she needed a kimono for anyone to notice that she was a woman, let alone someone as observant as Aoshi. Still, he had never made any acknowledgment that she was an adult and why would he when she continued to behave just as she always had? His words could not have been more accurate… 'Your childhood habits have not changed.' It was true, they hadn't, but she could change that.

Lost in his pale eyes that remained partially hidden by his hair, her acknowledgment of her fears and her resolve to overcome them took action as she gave into her earlier temptation and lifted her hand toward his face. He seemed not to notice or chose to ignore the movement of her hand. Or so she thought until, her fingertips were mere inches from his face, the firm grasp of his hand around her wrist halted any further advancement. Time stopped for a long, silent moment and Misao held her breath as his eyes bore into hers, his expression as always, unreadable, remaining so even when she felt his fingers loosening and the slow movement of his thumb as he began to caress small circles on her wrist. Nor did his expression change when she felt his gentle fingers slowly move up the back of her hand, over the tips of her fingers and down again to her palm mimicking his thumb by tracing small circles into her sensitive skin there. Misao shivered lightly at the sensation of his touch, her eyes widened when he slipped his fingers between hers and grasping her hand he began to pull her closer. She was vaguely aware of his other hand on her shoulder, gently urging her toward him as well and as if from a wonderful dream she felt the softness of his lips brush the corner of her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed as his mouth on hers continued to weave a magic spell, both of them growing more eager, more persistent with each pass. Misao felt the odd sense of being weightless, of floating and only some small part of her subconscious was aware of her back being pressed into the stiff, wooden bench by Aoshi's torso, heavy upon hers. She whimpered against his insistent mouth, finally managing to pull her hands free, one from his grasp and the other trapped between them. Her shaking fingers delved into his silky hair, the feel of it like liquid running over her skin, cool and erotic.

A sudden rush of air, a lightness that was absent moments ago and fingers that now clutched at nothing left Misao momentarily startled. Aoshi had moved so quickly, shot away from her so fast that her brain had trouble keeping up with his movements. Her eyes fluttered open to find him several feet away from her, his eyes once more hidden behind the wisps of hair that her fingers still burned with the remembered feel of.

"Aoshi-sama?" She whispered in confusion, clumsily trying to sit upright and clear her head of the passionate haze that now clouded her.

"Gomen." He spoke quietly and turned away, taking a few steps then halting and looking back over his shoulder at her. "I cannot do this."

"What… what do you mean?" Her voice filled with humorless mirth as she self-consciously straightened her yukata, having shifted during their brief embrace and revealing more skin than was appropriate. "What has suddenly happened to make you incapable?"

She climbed to her feet as he continued to stare silently at her from over his shoulder. She looked about the garden wondering briefly if they were perhaps being observed, although she had not sensed anyone, her eyes found no one and she quickly dismissed this notion. Her eyes returned once more to where he stood, still watching her, then it hit her… perhaps he simply did not share her feelings; if that were true however, why the kiss then? That had certainly not been the reaction of a man who did not want to kiss her.

"I cannot be what you want me to be Misao." His quiet voice and just as quiet footsteps taking him away from her interrupted her thoughts. "I have been many things to you but I cannot be this, as much as I try to force myself, I cannot feel how you wish me to because to me you will always be that little girl I have always taken care of."

She made a move to go after him, her steps halting as did his and he turned around to face her. They stood for long moments in the silent garden of night, each of them watching the other. Misao could not miss his eyes traveling down to where her fingers had clutched onto the end of her braid in that same childish habit he'd accused her of earlier. It only seemed to compound his words… 'you will always be that little girl…' But there had been that kiss!

"I don't believe you!" Her voice raised and forceful as she took a confident step toward him, daring him to counter her. Like shattering glass Misao could feel her self-confidence splintering and falling to the ground as he stared back at her; cold, unmoving and brooking no argument. Her heart soon shattered as well. She had no argument, nothing further to say as the look in his eyes told her everything and she resigned herself, lowering her gaze to feign interest in some minuscule object on the ground.

"Forgive me Misao." She heard but did not acknowledge and at the soft sound of his footsteps leading him away her tears began to fall; silent and endless.

Neither the sultry air nor her warm tears could keep the chill from spreading through her body, making her shiver in reaction. She felt cold but did not find relief in it as she'd sought earlier, after what seemed like hours Misao wandered back into the Aoiya and up to her room. She stood at the window and stared sightlessly out at the silent streets of Kyoto, much as she was doing now except now there were no tears, she had shed enough that night and the nights that followed.

She had not been angry with him, merely hurt and disappointed; how could she be angry with him, it wasn't through any fault of his own that he did not return her feelings, just as it was through no fault of hers that she loved him the way she did. It was difficult in the days that followed their encounter in the garden and Misao was determined not to make Aoshi uncomfortable and so she kept her distance, never once showing him her unrequited feelings. She made every effort to avoid him, gulping down her meals in record time when they were all gathered for dinner, anytime she entered a room and he was there she would hastily retreat and stay away until she knew he was no longer present. She trained solely with Hanya, long and vigorous hours of training that would help relieve some of her overwrought emotions, not to mention improve her abilities by leaps and bounds.

As much as she made it a point to steer clear of Aoshi, Misao could not help feeling disappointed at him making no attempt to at least acknowledge what she was going through, he seemed content to leave her be however, and not a comforting word was uttered. It would be several weeks before Aoshi would make an effort to speak to her directly, to actually make an opportunity for the two of them to be able to talk in private. Even now remembering that day had the ability to send her temper flaring. She'd been so angry at what he'd said to her that she could still feel the tingling in her fingertips at the slap that she had wanted to deliver; her ingrained respect for his title as Okashira would not allow her to do so however.

Omasu had needed some items from the market and Misao had volunteered to go for her, it turned out to be far more than Misao could carry easily and the merchant's son, upon seeing her struggle with her packages offered his assistance. She and the other Oniwabanshu knew the merchant and his family; they frequented the Aoiya often for dinner. Kazuhiko had always been kind to her and being very near her own age the two of them found ample things to talk about on their short walk to the Aoiya. They stood near the entrance of the restaurant, Kazuhiko relating a funny story as Misao laughed heartily for the first time in what seemed like ages. Kazuhiko made a promise to see her tomorrow when he and his family came to the Aoiya for dinner, she thanked him for his help with the packages and he soon left. She stood at the doorway and watched him disappear into the crowded streets, turning away she entered the Aoiya, delivering Omasu's goods to her and then made her way to the training area.

"Misao." She halted at the sound of Aoshi's quiet voice from the shadows. "May I have a word with you?"

She didn't want to talk to him; her heart still ached at the sound of his voice, not even that much, just thinking about him caused her pain. More than anything else she wanted to get over these feelings for him, to make things as they were before her betraying heart decided to fall in love with him. But he was still the Okashira and she owed it to him to listen to what he had to say.

"If you insist Aoshi-sama." She answered resignedly.

He stepped from the shadows and stood before her, his figure imposing, his eyes as always hidden behind that curtain of blue-black hair. He seemed tense and she could only guess that he was uncomfortable after what had happened between them in the garden.

"I would ask that you not fraternize with the merchant's son." His voice, quiet yet stern and his words the last she would have expected.

Misao didn't know what to do or say, she was so completely taken by surprise that she could form no reply, only stand and stare dumbfounded. She could tell that Aoshi was waiting for her acquiescence to his request and when she offered none he continued, his next words surprising her even more.

"You are going to give the young man and other's the wrong impression."

Just what the hell is that supposed to mean? She wondered. That Kazuhiko was interested in her as a woman, that people thought she and Kazuhiko were a couple? The idea had never crossed her mind but what if it were true, what would be so bad about that? She had been happy talking to Kazuhiko, had forgotten her broken heart, if only for a moment, in his company. It would be best for her and Aoshi if she got over her feelings for him and she could see no reason why she should not make every attempt to do just that. Besides that, how she conducted herself was no longer his concern, she was an adult, if he failed to see her as such that was his problem.

"I fail to see how anyone would get the wrong impression Aoshi-sama." With that Misao stepped around him and continued toward the training room.

"People of his class are ill-bred and generally not to be trusted." Aoshi's words stopped her in her tracks and she turned to stare at him, total disbelief at what she was hearing. "You are not meant for the likes of him."

Misao would have never believed it if she had not heard him utter the words herself; Aoshi had never been unjust, his honor had always meant so much to him. But apparently that was no longer the case and anger boiled through her at the very thought of Aoshi placing such a label on another simply because of their line of work.

"Let me get this straight." She marched up to him barely able to contain her anger as she spoke. "I offer myself to you but you're too good for me and now that I may consider offering myself to another he's not good enough?"

Aoshi's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits but he remained silent.

"I am an adult Aoshi-sama." Her voice climbing by margins. "Do not dare to choose with whom I associate."

"And you do not dare to bring ruin to your grandfather's name." His voice a deadly whisper.

Misao's hand twitched, the muscles in her arm spasmed as she refrained from delivering what was certainly a most deserved slap across his face. She met his equally angry eyes that told her he knew; he could read her so well that he knew she had wanted to slap him and this only served to increase her anger ten-fold.

"Excuse me." She muttered through tightly clenched teeth and turning away from him she made her way to the training room and a waiting Hanya who suffered all her angry blows in silence, letting her vent her frustration over the argument he knew had taken place, having caught the end of it.

Misao sighed heavily as she stood at her window; the oppressive heat of summer was gone as Kyoto was completely engulfed in the throws of autumn. There was a chill in the air now when the sun dropped below the horizon and soon the chill would command the day as well. Winter was fast approaching and it only seemed to reflect Misao's own feelings with the constant gray skies and its bitter cold climate.

=====================================================================================

Again, sorry for ending it where I did but I wasn't getting anywhere with it and wanted to start with a fresh new chapter and hope that somehow clears my writers block or overworked brain syndrome.