Disclaimers: Watsuki's!
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We have seen a flood of tears from the people
of grief.
With a roar we have seen the deluge engulf
one thousand homes of luck.------------Nabi.
"Come on Misao." Shiro shouted to her as the last launch of the swing lifted her nearly to the point of the highest branches. He stepped back and held his arms out growing smaller as she continued to climb into the sky. "Show me you can still fly!"
Misao had spied the swing hanging listlessly from the old maple tree upon reaching the hilltop, having forgotten about it until that very moment. She and Shiro had started out that morning and with each step her remembered fondness of the place where they had played as children filled her heart. She could remember clearly sitting atop Hanya's shoulders as he whisked her along the trail through the forest, the others alongside or following close behind. They came mostly in the spring and summer, enjoying the hillsides covered with wildflowers, the cool breeze of the mountain air shifting the tall grasses and flower stalks like waves in the sea. She'd been here a few times in the autumn, the tall evergreens, majestic and still cloaked in their deep color alongside the blazing red and gold of those that would soon be bare of their leaves in the onset of winter.
This trip up she'd been too late to even enjoy that much, frost now covered the faded yellow grass that she and Shiro had trudged through and the tips of the evergreens were brushed with the white of frost as well. The frost would dissipate once the sun rose a little higher in the sky she knew. They had set out on their journey early, just after the sun had risen, Okon and Omasu helped them pack some food to eat as they intended to be out the entire afternoon.
She raced for the swing upon seeing it and after a brief test of her weight against the old, weather worn ropes that still held it suspended from the sturdy branch, she climbed on. She gave herself a small push with her feet that barely managed to get her moving. Shiro, whom she'd left behind in her race to reach the swing, soon joined her and obliged by pushing her.
Misao's mood had been somber when their walk began, her head still filled with Aoshi. She'd been serious when she'd asked Hanya last night how one knew they were in love, she simply wasn't sure anymore. Lately, with the way he treated her and talked to her it seemed as if she almost hated him. His comments about her and Kazuhiko and his continued uncaring almost callous treatment of her feelings left her hurt, angry and convinced she harbored no soft spot in her heart for him any longer. She firmly believed it or at least she had, until several days ago when she came upon Okon and Omasu talking and laughing. They were in the kitchen, making dinner preparations by the sounds emanating through the doorway and discussing her as a child; Misao hid behind the door and listened, feeling wistful as they recalled the past.
"She was the tiniest thing." Omasu commented giggling.
"Hai." Okon agreed. "I remember she used to hide under my kimono and no one would be any wiser."
Misao snickered as the two women laughed at their memories.
"Except…" Misao perked up as she heard the distinctive timbre of Aoshi's voice, she had missed everything he'd said after that one word, the rest lost in the laughter of the other two.
What was he doing there anyhow? She scowled her brows furrowing. Trying to influence other's with his bad impression of her? She wanted to barge in and demand that he not mention her again, he could think of her as he wished but she would not allow him to poison other's opinions of her simply because he was an ass.
"What was that Aoshi-sama?" Omasu's voice prompted him to repeat himself and Misao listened intently once more, just waiting for him to say it and give her the opportunity to pounce on him.
"I said, except her eyes." His soft voice gentle and kind just as she used to hear him speak to her. "She's always had the biggest, blue eyes, even as a child."
"Sou da, Sou da." Okon agreed with him. "Everyone always commented on what beautiful eyes she had… 'Oh what a beautiful child' they would all say."
"She was beautiful." Omasu stated as if there could be no other conclusion and people had no choice but to comment on something that was plainly true.
"She still is." She heard Aoshi's quiet voice again, her breath caught and her eyes rounded to the size of rice bowls. Chairs were scraping against the wooden floor, footsteps moving away from her and into another part of the kitchen. "Very beautiful."
Overhearing this small exchange left her confused beyond belief; she'd been so convinced that she hated him, only to have him pierce her heart with this, then to pierce it yet again with his behavior last night. Her heart was indeed in turmoil. Shiro had made mention of her somber mood and asked what was troubling her, feeling slightly guilty for subjecting him to her ill-behavior she reprimanded herself silently and then made herself lively and focused on enjoying the outing.
They talked of many things as he continued to push her on the swing, each of them recalling their separate memories of the place they had rediscovered today. Of Okina's many antics and Beshimi's many tricks he played on the younger Oniwabanshu, namely her, Shiro and Kuro. She certainly made a conscious effort not to touch upon the one subject that so continuously occupied her thoughts but was not certain that it worked as Shiro seemed to cast several strange glances at her.
"Hey, let's see how high you can get." Shiro's voice accompanied by a hefty shove that lifted her higher made her laugh and her enthusiasm kept him pushing her higher and higher.
Time shifted and Misao was suddenly eight years old again and another mans voice called to her, 'show me you can fly Misao,' another man stood on the grass below, the sunlight painting his black hair blue, his arms lifted as he waited for her to jump. 'I will not let you fall.'
Misao gave into the temptation, letting go of the ropes she leapt from the seat; this had been her favorite when she was younger. She loved the thrill of that brief moment where she continued to ascend without the swing lifting her, the air rushing past, lifting her braid behind her as gravity took over and she started to plunge, the anxiety of landing safely in the strong arms that waited to catch her.
It dawned on her, almost too late, that although she was still rather light she was no longer the light as a feather child she had once been and would not be so easy to catch as before, not without causing someone a great deal of pain. She spread her arms and legs wide, pulling a full body twist then a double somersault to land a tad unsteadily on her feet in front of Shiro.
"I said I would catch you." He laughed as his hands quickly grasped her waist, steadying her as she stumbled slightly. "Didn't you trust me?"
"Well." She joined in his laughter, carelessly brushing the hair from in front of her eyes. "I just didn't want to knock you off your feet. I've grown a great deal since the last time I did this after all."
There was a long silence as Misao tucked her hair behind her ears and then she felt Shiro's hands tighten about her waist, she froze when his fingers spread wide in a touch that was overtly intimate.
"Indeed you have grown Misao." His husky whisper made her look up at him sharply, her eyes widening at his meaning. "You've grown into a very beautiful woman."
"Shiro-kun…" She gasped quietly in surprise at the desire in his eyes and in his voice. Misao thought her heart might break at having to bestow on him those same painful feelings that Aoshi had on her. She loved Shiro to be sure, however, it was not the kind of love that she and Hanya had been talking of, the kind that made two people one.
"Shiro-kun." She whispered again not knowing what to say, how to begin. She didn't have to say anything more as she watched the change in his eyes, the sad look that he conveyed. He understood her completely and although he released his hold on her waist he brought one hand up to cup her cheek, a small smile curving the corners of his mouth as his thumb moved slowly over her skin.
"Do not berate yourself for feeling a certain way Misao." He told her softly brushing back a small lock of hair that fell across her forehead. "I do not blame you. The heart seems to have a mind of its own and loves who it wants despite all its master's protests."
Misao gasped her eyes widening yet again at his words, '…loves who it wants despite its master's protests…' how true, how unfair and how completely blind she must be to not have realized it until this very moment. It did not matter all the hurtful words that Aoshi said to her, it did not matter if he saw her as a child or not, her heart had made up its own mind. It was just as Hanya had told her the night before, you cannot explain how you know, you just know and suddenly, she did know and with a finality that brooked no argument. She loved Aoshi; she would always love Aoshi.
She turned to look back at the swing, feeling Shiro's hand drop away as she did so, she could see herself swinging in it again, Aoshi standing below, beckoning her with his open arms and she could hear his voice. 'Show me you can fly Misao, I will not let you fall'.
It's too late Aoshi-sama. She thought silently. I've already fallen.
"Misao dooshite?" She jumped slightly at Shiro's question, reprimanding herself silently for being so selfish, at dwelling on her own feelings rather than considering his. Misao turned back around to face him, her eyes filling with tears as she read the concern in his.
"Gomen ne Shiro-kun." She apologized wrapping her arms around him as he pulled her toward him in a gentle embrace. "I am so sorry."
"Don't cry Misao." He told her as he gently patted her head. "As I said, it cannot be helped."
She nodded her agreement and sniffed making every attempt not to let her tears spill over. She did not want to cry like a little girl, she had done enough of that over Aoshi. Gathering her courage she stepped back and smiled up at Shiro who was happy to see her smiling again.
"Let's enjoy the rest of the day, ne?" He asked her.
"Un." She nodded in agreement and the two of them spent the rest of the morning and afternoon exploring their old playground. Misao coaxed him into getting onto the swing while she tried her best to push him, although her slight build did not allow her the ability to lift his heavy frame much.
The mid afternoon sun was weakening in the sky as the two ninja's neared the Aoiya, their return home made in relative silence as they were both lost in the pleasant memories of the day. They had not quite reached the road, still making their way through the forest when Shiro's calling her name made her stop and turn back to look at him.
"Dooshite Shiro-kun?" She asked frowning at the concerned look on his face. When he continued to hesitate she walked back to where he stood. "What is it?"
"Some advice." He spoke hesitantly after several moments of silence, his voice quiet. "Kazuhiko-san… he is a nice young man and his gentleness would suit you well…"
"Shikashi…" Misao waited as he paused yet again, taking several moments before he resumed with his advice. "Your heart vies for the affections of another I think… and if… if it's Aoshi-sama let me caution you against it. I do not wish to see you hurt Misao."
She was at a loss; was she really so transparent? And if Shiro could see it could everyone else see it as well. Hanya's straightforward question last night, 'Misao-chan, are you in love with Aoshi-sama?' led her to believe that it was possible. She could not bear having everyone pity her and her desperate need for a scrap of Aoshi's affection, like a dog waiting to be thrown a morsel from its master's dinner. It would be better if they all believed her to be in love with Kazuhiko, it would be better for her if she made herself love him, in whatever capacity that might be, she already liked him a great deal that surely counted for something. Yes, the sooner she dispelled these thoughts people had about her and Aoshi the better.
"What are you talking about." Misao half laughed, attempting incredulity in an effort to alleviate his concern and change the subject. "I'm nothing but a little kid in Aoshi-sama's eyes."
Silence permeated the air around them for several minutes as his eyes bore into hers. What he was looking for Misao could not tell.
"I will not pretend to always know what the Okashira is thinking Misao." Shiro answered back a serious note present in his voice. "But Aoshi-sama's powers of observation are beyond anyone… and he has certainly known, long before anyone else, that you are not a child."
Misao wasn't sure how to feel about this idea; if this were true and Aoshi did accept her as an adult, maybe his telling her that he did not was his way of being kind. By telling her he could never see her as anything other than the little girl he had always known it allowed her the dignity of not being rejected as a woman. She didn't know which she would prefer more; to be seen as nothing more than a child in his eyes or to have him acknowledge that she was a woman, to know that he realized this and it made no difference, he still did not want her. It was a bitterly painful truth to swallow.
For the second time that day Misao was speechless, she could only gaze back as Shiro stared at her for a long time in silence; both of them still until he lifted his hand and brushed back a stray lock of her hair, much as he had done earlier. Her eyes widened as his face descended toward hers and she held her breath until she felt the light brush of his mouth against her cheek, soft, kind and chaste.
"I know it is not me that has your heart Misao." He whispered next to her ear. "Please make certain whoever you do give it to will appreciate it as much as I would have."
"Arigato Shiro-kun." She hugged him briefly and the two quickly resumed their walk, reaching the Aoiya in a few minutes.
After unpacking the few items she had brought along with her on their outing, Misao went to her room. Omasu upon seeing how stiffly she walked from her earlier exertions insisted that she soak in the bath for a while to relieve some of the soreness, sending Kuro out to get the water warm for her. Omasu did not fail to mention that Misao should get cleaned up while she was at it. Misao put up very little protest, actually looking forward to it as she stripped off her clothes and dressed in the yukata that Omasu handed her. She made her way through the Aoiya with the older woman following close behind lecturing her the entire way about her wild behavior, being kinder to herself and looking more ladylike. The same things she heard nearly everyday from either her or Okon, Misao quietly ignored it, too tired to argue she knew it would stop at the door when she stepped outside to make her way over to the bath. She sighed in relief at the silence of Omasu's harping; her breath appearing in the chill air seemed to illustrate her relief further. She slipped her feet into her small geta and made her way around the back of the Aoiya, oblivious to her surroundings as she thought about what Shiro had said about whom she gave her heart to. But it was too late for her, she had given her heart already to someone who neither appreciated it nor wanted it. The only thing she could do now is try to find happiness without her heart or what remained of it.
"Misao." She stiffened at the sound of Aoshi's voice addressing her, commanding her to turn around. Slowly she turned to face him, noticing immediately the same disapproving glare she had seen last night. She gathered her feelings under the protective layer she had developed against this man, her own eyes narrowing to match his angry glare, she refused to make any verbal acknowledgment and waited for him to continue with what he had to say. "Where have you been all day?"
"Shiro and I…" That was as far as she got before he cut her off.
"I warned you about disgracing your father's name." He snapped and took a menacing step toward her. "About giving people the wrong impression, didn't' I?"
Misao's eyes grew wide and she took a step back suddenly afraid of the rage reflected in his eyes. She could only shake her head in denial until suddenly finding her voice, "I… I didn't…we…" she stuttered in her defense only to be cut off by his harsh words once again.
"I saw the two of you in the forest a short while ago." He ground out angrily. "Either learn to control yourself or learn to be more discreet."
Misao's fear of Aoshi's rage vaporized in the eruption of her own anger, her entire body trembled as she fought to contain it. She struggled with herself over the violent reaction she so wanted to indulge in, feeling it would be much wiser for her to simply get away from him and allow herself to cool down as opposed to attacking him while wearing nothing but her geta and yukata. Not to mention, as good as she was, Aoshi could wipe the floor with her in a matter of seconds. Misao took a deep calming breath; exhaled and turned away from the angry, overbearing, Okashira. She pulled open the door to the bathhouse, stepped inside and let it close noisily behind her, putting an end to their conversation. The steam rising from the warm water never looked so inviting but the small smile it brought to her mouth soon disappeared as the door slammed open and hit the wall, Aoshi having flung it nearly off its hinges stepped inside.
"Don't you dare walk away when I'm talking to you." His quiet voice harsh and unforgiving only served to flame that anger she fought so hard to control. He stepped closer but this time she held her ground, raising her chin defiantly at the imposing frame that would send so many others scurrying away whimpering without him uttering a word. But not her, not this time.
"My time is my own Okashira." She spat at him angrily her voice raising with each word she spoke. "If you have official business to discuss with me then I suggest you call a meeting, if not then get out!"
Silence filled the air, punctuated only by the occasional drip of condensation that collected on the ceiling of the bathhouse, grew too heavy and splashed into the water below. Angry ice blue locked with deep azure that were equally so, both refusing to concede this battle, both daring the other to continue. The battle of wills might have gone on forever if Hanya's voice had not called Aoshi away on a matter of Oniwabanshu business, even then he appeared to hesitate before his duty called him away.
Misao nearly collapsed with relief after the fading sound of his footsteps disappeared all together. She was tired of this emotional roller coaster he put her through just so her grandfather's name wasn't disgraced. She had done nothing that anyone could reproach her with, even if that kiss that Shiro had given her had been anything more than a peck on the cheek.
Misao tested the temperature of the water with her toe and pulled the clasp from her braid, unraveling the thick locks with her fingers. She untied her sash, shrugged out of her yukata and dropping it on the bench behind her along with her clasp stepped into the steaming bath. It was then that her resolve crumbled and tears welled in her eyes then spilled over and streamed down her cheeks, soon to mingle with the warm bath water. She tried to still her shoulders, shaking as she sobbed, making the water ripple around her. She could not say how long she sat there, the warm water was comforting in a sense and Misao was so lost in the water's warm embrace that she failed to notice the footsteps that moved across the path toward the bathhouse. Nor did she sense the presence of the one who hesitated for long moments outside the bathhouse door before moving away. Just as he often did outside her bedroom door at night; the reassuring sense of her at rest one of the few indulgences he allowed himself to have.
"Misao hayaku!" Okon's voice intruded on her thoughts as she stood staring at the many items on display from the west, one in particular had caught her eye a small book of poetry, imagining Aoshi might enjoy such a gift. At the sound of Okon again hurrying her along, now joined by Omasu, Misao turned away to join her friends, wondering at how her thoughts always seemed to return to him. The three of them strolled along, Misao feeling awkward in the unfamiliar feel of the kimono she wore, having submitted to the pleadings of the other two and donned one on this special day out for the Oniwabanshu women. They were to spend the morning shopping, the New Year celebration was fast approaching and they had all agreed to exchange gifts this year. They were almost finished, Okon and Omasu trying to decide what they should get for Okina and Misao had still not figured out a gift for Aoshi, everything that caught her eye seemed entirely too personal. The two of them had grown even more distant than before after the night at the bathhouse. A coldness had developed between them that rivaled the chill of winter now upon them. It was proving a very difficult task to find him a gift under the circumstances. She had thought of a particular book she had heard of but even that seemed to be too intimate.
"Misao." Okon diverted Misao's attention from her thoughts once more as she focused on the older woman pointing ahead of them as she spoke. "There's Kazuhiko's shop, let's stop in there."
Misao nodded and the three of them made their way up the street to the small shop, before they reached it the soft melody of an instrument Misao could not recall hearing before drifted out of the shop. It was lovely and the three of them exchanged glances before shrugging their shoulders and stepping in through the doorway, the sound growing louder as they did. They were greeted by Kazuhiko's father and beyond him at the back of the shop; perched upon a tall chair they could see Kazuhiko. He held a small stringed instrument tucked between his chin and shoulder and the short staff he stroked across the strings produced the sweet sounds that drew their attention.
Misao was captivated, not only by the sound of the instrument but just watching Kazuhiko play. It was as if he were enamored with the instrument, no that wasn't right, more like he was lost in it, as if his world consisted entirely of the miracle created from wood and wire. He was not unlike Aoshi with his kodachi, during practice or during a fight, Aoshi was one with his weapon of choice and when he wielded them there was nothing else in the world with him.
At the loud outburst of his father's laughter Kazuhiko looked up; she smiled at him when their eyes met and he pulled the instrument away from his chin, climbed to his feet and approached them. Misao could kill Okon and Omasu for flirting with the old man, bringing to an end Kazuhiko's music.
"Ladies." He bowed lightly before them. "Ohayo gozaimasu."
"Kazuhiko-kun." Okon's giggling flirtatious voice grating on Misao's nerves. "That was absolutely lovely music you were playing."
"Thank you." He replied blushing lightly.
"What do you call that instrument?" It was Omasu's turn to simper and Misao thought that the two of them could never have been more embarrassing than at this moment. "I've never seen anything like it before."
"It's called a violin." He explained holding it up for their inspection, Misao leaned closer, and she was amazed, it looked like nothing more than a toy. "Would either of you ladies like to try it?"
"Oh no… not us." The two of them replied in unison while giggling even more and hiding coyly behind the sleeves of their Kimono. "But perhaps Misao-chan would like to?"
I'm going to kill them when we get home. Misao declared silently as Kazuhiko turned toward her and smiled, prompting her with a question in his voice as he said her name. She smiled back, trying to fight back the embarrassment of the two idiots who were winking and grinning like fools at her now that they were out of his line of sight.
She nodded her head and took the instrument from him as he handed it to her. It was surprisingly light, she didn't know why she expected it to be heavier, maybe because she could not believe anything so small and inconsequential could make such an impact with its sound. She rest it on her shoulder and placed her chin on it as he instructed. She listened and watched as he gave direction on how to glide the bow, as he called it, forward and back across the strings. Although she was certain she was doing exactly as he instructed the sound that came from the instrument as she attempted to play was more like a cry from a sick calf than anything else. She could see the cringing faces of Omasu and Okon and although Kazuhiko politely tried to hide his, it was quite obvious he believed even a tone deaf could play better.
"Gomen." She muttered quietly, disappointed, then handed it back to him as she laughed at herself. "I'm afraid I lack the talent."
"No, no." He waved her off laughing and stepping closer. "You merely lack the practice, you don't honestly think I played that well the first time I picked it up do you?"
From what she had heard earlier of his playing Misao doubted that he ever played anything so off key, even the first time he played the instrument. This was confirmed when his father suddenly interjected with a comment that Kazuhiko had a natural talent in music that few could boast and his son, obviously unused to such praise suddenly had a tinge of pink appear across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Misao laughed lightly at his discomfort as did Okon and Omasu.
"I will leave the playing to the expert then." Misao tried to hand the violin off to him again, to which he shook his head.
"I can show you." He told her sensing her disappointment. "If you like."
"I would love it!" She agreed heartily her head turning as he moved to stand behind her covering each of her hands with his own he stepped closer and Misao suddenly became uncomfortable at how close he was standing to her.
'…learn to be more discreet or learn to control yourself.' Aoshi's words from before filling her head, she knew he would feel the same about how she was now standing in the arms of Kazuhiko whom he had already warned her to stay away from. To hell with Aoshi and his warnings! She thought silently. She was enjoying herself and there was no reason she should feel guilty about what she was doing. She liked Kazuhiko and who knew, maybe she actually could find happiness with someone like him, if he loved her, maybe…
"Rest the violin on your shoulder Misao-san." He instructed, as always his voice light and gentle and she did as he told her. "Do not press too hard with your chin, the idea is to be relaxed."
He then placed her fingers in specific places across the strings covering them with his own and then rearranged the bow so she held it with a proper grip the two of them laughing when she nearly dropped it. She could feel his chest pressed against her back and his warm breath ruffling a few strands of her hair, it was not a wholly unpleasant feeling. The thunderbolt of electricity she felt when Aoshi had held her close was not there but she felt she could learn to look forward to Kazuhiko's nearness. She did not want to experience what she had felt in Aoshi's arms again, she didn't care for the state it left her in when it was denied her later, it was far too painful, even now.
When she pushed the bow across the strings, this time with the aid of Kazuhiko and drew it back again Misao nearly squealed in delight. Kazuhiko tried to keep playing with her hands and his but she had grown too excited and fidgety at having it sound, not as good as they had heard him play but certainly better than her first attempt, he was forced to give up.
"Yatta Misao-chan, that was much better." Omasu cheered and they all laughed.
Misao turned and thanked Kazuhiko, showering him with praise as she handed the violin and bow back to him, smiling at his sudden shyness when he'd been only moments ago standing closer to her than any man had save one. He mumbled a quick incoherent excuse and walked to the back of the store, returning sometime later without his violin to stand beside his father. Okon and Omasu were looking over a gift that the two of them considered buying for Okina while Misao was quietly inspecting a small wooden box that had caught her eye. It was plain but polished to a smooth matte finish and very finely crafted.
"Why don't you open it up." Kazuhiko's quiet voice beside her made her jump, she looked at him and he nodded toward the box. "Go ahead."
Hesitantly she lifted lid on the box and immediately heard the familiar musical notes that Kazuhiko had played on his violin earlier. She smiled up at him and picked the box up to inspect it closer.
"It's from Europe." He told her before she could ask. "From France I believe."
"And the melody you were playing earlier?" She asked. "Was that from Europe as well?"
"Aah." She nodded as he confirmed what she had already guessed.
"It's very beautiful." She set the box back down. "But it's not what I'm looking for."
"Having trouble finding the right gift for someone?" He asked her.
"Hai." She answered her frustration showing through in her voice. "If I could just find this one gift then I will have everyone in the Aoiya covered for New Year."
"It must be for someone very special to give you so much trouble."
She forced a slight smile as she nodded. If you only knew. she thought silently.
"Well… I don't know if this will help but." He advised. "It's been my experience that the first gift you consider for a person is usually the best one to get them."
"I wish I could be so sure." She replied quietly.
"Don't worry Misao-san." She looked up and met his cheerfully smiling face. "I'm sure any person lucky enough to be so much in your thoughts will love whatever you get them."
He spoke with such sincerity, she only wished her heart could appreciate the words rather than dwelling on the fact that Aoshi may well indeed love the gift she gave him but he would not love her. Would Kazuhiko? She wondered, her thoughts taking on a completely different turn as looked at his kind smile and warm brown eyes. If he did, would it be fair to indulge in that love with her heart so resolutely set on another?
"Tell me." His voice intruded quietly upon her thoughts. "What did you first think of as a gift?"
"A book." She answered after a few moments, pushing away the thoughts that were spinning around in her head that moment. "A translation of western poetry… from England."
"Sou ka." He nodded then lifting his hand he indicated the area at the back of the store. "We have several translated works from England if you'd like to look."
She followed as he led the way and as he said there were several volumes; classics they were called that someone in her own country had considered worth the effort of translating. She scanned the titles until she came across the one she'd passed up several times at other shops earlier that same morning. She pulled it from the shelf and opened the first page.
"Sonnets?" Kazuhiko queried from over her shoulder.
"Hai." Misao answered absently as she turned another page. "William Shakespeare."
She fingered the pages carefully, turning them slowly; just glimpsing at the characters boldly scrawled across the paper. This was the perfect gift for Aoshi; her shopping was finished.
"You were right." She turned and smiled cheerfully at Kazuhiko handing him the book indicating that she would buy it.
Taking the book from her Kazuhiko nodded and she followed him to the counter where Okon and Omasu stood with his father, who was now wrapping up their purchases, having found more to spend money on than simply Okina's gift. Misao handed her money to Kazuhiko who then wrapped the book up and handed it back to her.
"Kazuhiko." His father called him, drawing everyone's attention. "Why don't we wrap up a few of those sweets that Francois brought us from Europe, I'm sure these ladies would enjoy them."
As Kazuhiko disappeared through the back Misao thanked his father quietly while Okon and Omasu gushed their appreciation in another embarrassing scene. Misao sighed and rolled her eyes, she could not believe the number of men who fell for this kind of thing, finding their brazen behavior charming.
They were soon on their way back to the Aoiya and once again Kazuhiko had insisted on helping them with their packages. He hung back with Misao who, unused to wearing the kimono that limited her stride and the geta, walked at a much slower pace than Okon and Omasu.
"Tell me." Misao asked. "Where did you get that instrument and who in Japan would know to teach you how to play?"
"I can understand your curiosity." He answered chuckling. "It was given to me as a gift when I was a child. A European gentleman, in trade with my father stayed with us for sometime and it belonged to him. He taught me how to play and when he returned to Europe he left it in my care, with the promise that I would continue to play it whenever I could."
"And you did?" She prompted him.
"Everyday." He told her then gave a short laugh. "I must say he was very surprised at how well I could play when he came back a few years later."
Misao looked up at him, there was something in his voice barely noticeable behind the laughter but she detected it. Very few things got by her ears which were far more sensitive than most.
"You had surpassed your teacher by then?" She asked and he looked at her sharply no doubt surprised at what she had guessed.
"He told me he knew that I would be great." Kazuhiko answered wistfully. "He knew it the first moment I started to play. He said I could be the best ever and play in all the great halls over Europe if I chose to."
"And do you choose to?" Misao asked.
He was silent for several moments and Misao thought he wasn't going to answer her. When he spoke she could feel his disappointment.
"My choices have already been made for me Misao-san." He spoke quietly, resignedly and they walked on in silence until his voice filled the air again. "My father's business has become my own, it's my duty to do as he wishes."
Not knowing what to say Misao merely nodded as they walked on. Her mind raged at the injustice of Kazuhiko being denied the one thing he was perhaps born to do and forced into a role that he did not want. How bitter that must be, to know exactly what you wanted and know you can never have it, she was reminded of her feelings for Aoshi; she quickly cut off her train of thought in that direction.
"Fortunately your choice has not stopped you from playing when you can." She offered in an attempt to lighten the mood.
"My parents used to complain endlessly about it." He laughed without humor. "I told my father that I would give up my dream for his, that I had done what was expected of me as his son but I would not give up the violin."
Misao halted, their walk coming to an end having reached the Aoiya. Okon and Omasu thanked him again for carrying their packages and complimented him on his music as she had just done and then turned to go inside.
"I would like to hear you play again sometime Kazuhiko." She told him and meant it.
"I would enjoy playing for you again Misao-san." He smiled and blushed, bowing politely he stared at her for long moments as if he had more to say but did not know how, he then turned away, leaving Misao to stare after him as he disappeared down the street.
Perhaps she could be happy with someone like Kazuhiko. She thought before turning away and entering the Aoiya. Perhaps…
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I know, I know, not much of Aoshi in there, there will be in the next one I promise. Comments are always welcome as well as encouragement, I'm in desperate need of some, I am not feeling very inspired with this fic.
William Shakespeare's Sonnets; I used this because of the time period, they were published long before Meiji Japan and well, why not, everyone should have the opportunity to read them. The violin? I have no idea when it was introduced into Japan, I just like how they sound, all romantic and melancholy
