She missed the heavy warmth of his hands and lifted her arms unconsciously to cover her shoulders where his hands had been but a minute ago, shivering slightly. Cobalt eyes pierced her as she stood rigid, her face downcast as she felt herself fall deep into the crevices of her confused mind. The feeling was chilling, yet exhilarating—she held her future in her hands, what would she do now? Endless possibilities, a never ending horizon seemed to dawn in front of her, but the one element she needed to be sure of was, in her eyes, beyond her reach. Taking a small step backwards, Misao looked up with a small, quivering smile and then turned, beseeching him to follow her with a turn of her head. Perplexed, Aoshi conceded, his long stride adjusting to follow behind Misao's unsteady limp. He didn't offer any help—she would never take it, not as long as she was her own person. He acknowledged her individuality, and any action that would indicate her helplessness or dependency would anger her more than any words ever could.
She is heading towards the clinic again, he noted curiously, what could she possibly have to show me? His unvoiced query was answered shortly; she stopped suddenly behind a tall tree, bidding him to look to his right. The sight of Himura Battousai and his wife with their two children greeted his eyes. Battousai was holding the baby girl contentedly, watching his wife play with Kenji in peaceful silence. After a few moments of muted observation, Aoshi felt a small tug on his shirt: it was Misao, whose deep blue eyes were filled with fondness, sadness and another emotion he could not distinguish. "Come," she whispered, guiding him back to the garden, her hand still holding tight onto the fabric of his shirt. Halting by a tall peach tree, Aoshi noticed the emerging buds and green shoots for the first time. The rebirth of life, he noted with a twinge of bitterness and regret. That was when Misao's clear voice blocked all other thoughts out of his mind.
"Aoshi-sama…" she articulated softly, "The reason why I took you to see Himura and his family was to show you what you can have in the future. You may never have what he has, if you choose me." She hesitated—was she being too forthright? He hadn't even expressed his love for her, what if he thought she was jumping to conclusions? Nevertheless, Misao knew in her heart that what she was doing was right—her statement would determine if he loved her or not, and it would also provide as a warning to him if he indeed did love her, to keep him at bay. How ironic, she thought wretchedly, I want him to tell me he loves me, but I don't want him to marry me. Oh, this is my battle as well as his—either I let him go, or I make him fall. She shut her eyes tight to keep her tears at bay; she had never felt so vulnerable as now, nevertheless she had to go on, "I wish for your compassion, but not your pity—I have no intentions of marrying anyone, ever. If you seek happiness, you must find it elsewhere." Opening her eyes with impassive determination, Misao stepped away from him: I release all holds I had on you. Turning to leave, her face distorted with aching misery, she felt Aoshi move swiftly, grabbing her by the arm and forcing her to face him again. Wiping her face of all her turmoil, Misao looked up at him, feeling his searching eyes roam over her face, his own hard and stern.
"Liar." Misao smiled sadly; it was astounding how well Aoshi knew her, it was really all too bad things had to end the way they did—they really had a chance before, but Misao knew when she had to give up. What she didn't know was that Aoshi didn't have such wisdom, "Misao, why are you doing this? You can't and you won't shut me out." Grabbing her by the shoulders for emphasis, he gave her a slight shake before continuing, his shield cracking slightly as emotions began to dart over his features, "You're mine." He then drew her into his arms, holding her fiercely, intimately, with one large hand curved over her side and another cupping the back of her head. "Now, before you can say more nonsense, we're taking you back to the clinic," he murmured, but neither of them made any effort to move.
Another month passed on its own accord: by now the peach tree at the clinic had started to bloom, lending fragrance and enlightening the garden with frosty pink petals. The dojo had been fully repaired, thanks to the combined effort of the students, the townspeople and several of the Himuras' friends. Misao had fully healed, walking with no difficulty, her frontal injury now but a long pink scar on her abdomen. When Aoshi was convinced of her health, he booked train tickets back to Kyoto for the next day. Megumi had left for her clinic in Aizu that day, but not before pulling Misao into the privacy of a small room for a few well-chosen words of leave.
Misao had been chopping horseradishes in the newly furnished kitchen of the dojo when she heard a whisper, "Misao-chan! Over here!" Misao's acute hearing led her to Megumi, who was standing next to the kitchen door in the living room, "May I have a few words with you before I leave today?"
"Oh, of course! Would you like to talk right now?"
"Now would be nice, Misao-chan. Follow me." Without even giving Misao a chance to wipe her hands on her apron, the lady doctor grabbed the smaller woman by the wrist and led her down the long wooden hallway and into the guest room. Gesturing Misao to sit on a cushion, Megumi sat down on another on the floor, her hair trailing gracefully over her shoulders, her red mouth curved up in a pleasant smile and her eyes keenly taking in Misao's expression as she raised a slender hand to pick up a small parcel by her bags. Holding it out to Misao, Megumi smiled encouragingly and said matter-of-factly, "Do not let any kind of burden or obstacle impede you from asking for what your heart truly desires, my dear." Misao could only blink, only remembering to take the package when Megumi bluntly thrust it at her, "Just because I am a doctor, and I had to give you an honest and commonsensical diagnosis does not sentence you, Misao-chan. You may possess unique resilience, or you may have never suffered a wound to the uterus, in which my words are not only misguiding, but also harmful. Here, take this—it may prove to be useful later on." When Misao fingered the parcel and tried to unwrap it, Megumi halted her with a laugh, "Oh no, Misao-chan. You can't open it until you tell me the final standing between you and your beloved Aoshi-sama. That's the one and only condition that comes with this bundle. Consider it a departing gift from a friend and professional doctor in one." Then Megumi lifted a delicate hand to her lips, laughing mysteriously as she waved Misao off to dismiss her.
Misao grinned even as she shoved her curiosity aside—Megumi was quite a character, and one of the most caring people under her aloof façade. Embracing her warmly as her wordless way of thanking her, Misao smiled up at her tall friend with a sunny smile, "Take care, Megumi-sensei."
Megumi smiled down at the petite young lady, "You too, Okashira-san."
Misao shook her head slightly, happiness filling her features, "In that aspect, you're wrong—I am a woman of no titles."
Megumi arched an eyebrow, "Oh, has the stoic Shinomori Aoshi reclaimed the position? I am surprised, perhaps he is a man worthy of notice, then." Dodging Misao's playful blow agilely, Megumi shoved her out gently, her laughter resonating in the hallway.
Deep in thought, Megumi spent a few minutes in silence with her back to the door, thinking over her friend's predicament. She didn't hear the smooth sliding of the door nor the muted steps of a person behind her as she stood in contemplation. Only when the person spoke, breaking the silence, did she turn in surprise: "Takani-sensei, may I have a few words with you?"
Oh, the day of miracles has come, thought Megumi wryly when she saw Shinomori Aoshi standing before her when she turned to face the intruder of her reflections. She gave him a searching look as she said pleasantly, "Yes, Shinomori-san. How may I help you?"
To her astonishment, the tall man silently shook his head, "No, I have not come to ask you any more favors than you have already bestowed upon me and my own. I came to ask for your pardon." Seeing that Megumi was rooted to her place in surprise, he continued, "I never apologized for my actions back when I was working with my comrades, and for my indifference and corruption, I am truly sorry and regret my past actions."
Megumi looked into the Okashira's deep-set eyes, and although his face was as impassive as usual, she saw the sorrow and genuine wish for atonement lurking in his dark blue depths. Megumi let out a deep breath, smiling up at the dark man, but letting the smile fill her features this time, "I accept your apology, but I will retract any kindness to you if you do not put a stake on what is yours. Do not hesitate with her."
She got the closest thing to a smile Aoshi had ever shown anyone, "I do not plan to." Satisfied with his answer, she responded with another gentle smile. Megumi then bowed formally to him in a manner that befitted a respected Okashira, and sent him out with a strong conviction nestling in the bottom of her mind: We are all healing—it is time for spring.