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Thanks to Darkfairy, Noa, Sarah, Celste, Mikazuki, Sai, sparticus, Katros, Nicole, Jac'Kee, lebleuphenix, DiaBlo, Li Jung Sook, Mica-Chan, Yen, M2D, mc, SilverNimbus and Karasu for your reviews !! I hope I didn't forget anyone ; anyway I read all your reviews and they make me really so happy ! Please keep reviewing ^^ it gives me so much motivation ^^ !!!
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Chapter 9: Lost children
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Lassitude had done its work on Aoshi's body and mind, and now that the sun had set, all he craved for was his bed. This was one of those times when he realised that, after all, he was only human, with human fatigue and needs. His concern about Yukiko was soothed. The young woman would be fine quite fast; she recovered with amazing speed from her injuries. She had even been able to walk for a while in the garden during the afternoon, Aoshi just looking at her as she had declined his offer to hold her up. They were alike, he thought, and it reminded him of that terrible day in Kanryuu's mansion. He too had been badly injured by Himura, badly enough to lose consciousness. But a moment later, he had recovered and was able to fight back. He and Yukiko had attended to the same training; they had the same abilities except for a few things.
But his mind wouldn't rest in peace, anyway. Because Yukiko was not the main topic of his deeply buried anxiety. He knew this, and no matter how hard he was trying not to think of her, Misao remained in his mind, wreaking havoc on his emotions with those overwhelmed eyes of hers. Aoshi just wanted to forget; forget that she had been nowhere to be found since he had preached at her so harshly; forget the burning pain in his heart, dammit! He should have been hardened against pain after all those years of suffering! Why did this girl destroy so easily his barricades, so easily that it frightened him? And all he could do was push her back, because he was fully aware that a single sign of encouragement, from now on, would mean that he couldn't turn back. He couldn't save her from himself. And when he saw how badly he could hurt her when he lost his self-control, like a few hours ago, he didn't want her to become more attached to him than she already was, afraid she would scald her soul.
Misao, only the sound of her name and his heart wrenched. She was not childish, beside all he had wanted to believe. She just was innocent, pure, and blissfully unaware of the impure thoughts he harboured in the deepest pits of his heart. People seem to think that if you don't have soiled thoughts, you're a child or a simpleton. But innocence is not childishness or idiocy. Misao had been harmed and hurt, she had grown and not always in the simplest way, but she still had that innocence that pierced through his heart.
Would it be so bad to let her steal his heart without resisting?
Is this need to hug her and never let go, bad?
Maybe her innocence was enough to save him. To save them. Enough to soften his cold heart, enough to allow them to be happy.
All of this was stirring up ill feelings in his already exhausted mind. He would have plenty of time to consider the matter tomorrow. In the light of the morning, he would surely know how to come to terms with this frightening and overwhelming feeling. But now, just now... His steps were carrying him beside himself towards her door, towards her comforting presence. He just wanted to see her asleep before he went to bed, nothing guilty.
Aoshi edged his way to Misao's shoji. His fingers brushed against the panel, about to open it, when something seemed to rip his heart out of his chest. No, he tried to reason with himself, he had to be wrong. This couldn't be true... He was mistaken... But yet, his fighter's senses couldn't delude him. There was someone in Misao's room, someone that shouldn't be there, someone that didn't belong to there, someone who was not he... Who dared?! , an angry voice screamed in his head, and he shivered as furious rage invaded his senses.
Loosing this self-control he was so proud of, Aoshi snatched the shoji and opened it with a barely held violence, his anger whirling through his piercing blue eyes. His hand went to his kodachi... As silent as a shadow, he came in the room, almost shaking in fury, and he froze at the scene under his eyes.
On the undone bed, Misao was cuddled between Shiro's arms, her hair untied and waving around her, her white yukata climbing to her soft curves, and she looks so peacefully happy, so at ease that it was unbearable to him. And, his hands tangled in that silky hair of hers, the young man by her side was holding her carefully against his bare chest, a soft smile on his lips as his cheek rested on Misao's head. All color drained out of Aoshi's face. When did this happen? How had it happened when he didn't know? Why Shiro? She was his, his and no one else's! No one had the right to even touch her!
This was entirely Shiro's fault; It had to be. He was taking advantage of Misao's innocence. He was forcing her to do something she didn't want to. He was seducing her; this was the truth. This had to be the truth, yes.
Anger, almost madness, rushed through his nerves again, and his eyes narrowed as his jaw set. Without a noise, Aoshi unsheathed his right kodachi and walked towards the two sleeping forms. He kneeled at the edge of the futon, and his gloved hand covered Shiro's mouth. Disturbed in his sleep, the young man opened his eyes and froze dreadfully when he felt a cold, sharp blade against the warm skin of his throat. Shiro's eyes widened, and he was about to call for help when a furious, icy voice murmured at his ear.
"Don't make a move. Don't wake her up, or you're dead, Shiro."
A drop of sweat rolled on Shiro's nape when he recognized the frightening voice. Aoshi. And soon anger grew in his mind; what was he thinking he was doing here? Suddenly Shiro didn't fear his ex-Okashira anymore. He felt the jealousy in Aoshi's grip, and this made rage boiled in his veins. And he just listened calmly when Aoshi spoke again.
"Come outside, don't make any inconsiderate move."
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Both of the men sized up each other, their eyes burned with scorn and disgust as the pale moonlight stretched their shadows to the garden and its darkness. Aoshi's face was almost unrecognisable; the storm of violent emotions rushing in his dark pupils, his hardened features made him look like a complete stranger, a man trapped for too long behind the impassive facade of the fallen Okashira. His every muscle was tensed, as if fearing he might let out the pure anger that rang through his being.
But when he spoke, his voice was husky but calm, even though Shiro could see the suppressed hatred in his glare.
"So?"
Shiro felt indignation clutching his throat.
"What do you want?! I don't think I owe you any explanation!"
Aoshi's eyes narrowed, and he brushed Shiro's remark aside.
"How do you dare do such a thing to Misao?"
Shiro blinked. He hadn't asked anything of Misao, never wanted anything from her if not what she had offered him. Besides, despite Aoshi's opinions he hadn't even touched her. Yes, like everyone in the Aoiya, he had a small crush on Misao, the over-excited weasel-girl, but he knew it was a mere crush, a brotherly love that would never take him anywhere. And moreover, would Misao have offered herself to him, body and soul, he would have refused because he knew that even if it would have comforted her in her despair, regrets and grief, it would be worse in the morning. He knew he would never be the one to whom her heart belonged, as he knew she was not the one for him either. All he wanted and had to give her was the tender embrace of an older brother, warm arms to tear her from her sorrow and a kind shoulder to cry on.
But Aoshi... That man took it all for granted, thought of his own happiness before hers, believed that she belonged to him because she cared for him, and he hadn't understood a thing about what love was. Misao was free, free of choosing whom she loved and he had no right to interfere. Worse, he ignored her and hurt her like no one else, and he was proud enough to think that she would wait for him forever, close her eyes upon his mistakes and give herself to him without hesitation. This was too much.
Shiro glared at Aoshi, looking for the icy blue eyes behind the long black bangs.
"How do I dare? I didn't do a thing, Shinomori, she made her own choices and I don't think you still own a right on her."
"Stop hurting her like that or I'll rip that bloody heart out of your chest!"
Aoshi's voice had raised, rage piercing behind the controlled tone. Shiro couldn't help himself and he started shouting, trying to cover his rival's voice.
"Who's hurting her, Shinomori? You're the one, yes! Why do you think she was crying, sitting alone on the roof when I found her last evening?! Whom do you think she waits for every night, hoping he will came in her room to wish her a good night, but he never does?! She is strong, but even the strongest would have given up caring about you with all the torture she endured because of you!"
Shiro breathed in and out with difficulty, giving vent to all the contempt he had amassed about his ex-leader.
"This was the better lesson she could ever have taught you! You thought you were acting for the best, but you are so hollow and selfish that you destroyed even the one you loved, lost everything and now all you can do is looking at what you ruined with your vanity and cry!"
Shiro boiled with rage, and he glared at Aoshi, trying to make out the effects of the hurtful words he had intentionally spoken. Aoshi's mask was pale, tensed as if about to break, and his eyes had darkened. He didn't even try to answer. He just shrugged his shoulders. This was all what he still had, trying to act as if he didn't care.
But a slight noise made the both of them turn over. A fragile silhouette was standing out in the white moonlight, her slender limbs dressed in bandages, her bruised face wearing the traces of the hard fight for life she had launched. She was hardly able to keep standing on her feet, her eyes were scared and wild because of what she had just heard, and she kept staring with that accusing look of hers at the two men arguing violently in the garden. Yukiko.
Another fit of anger rushed in Shiro's mind as blood flowed back from his face. Of all the people on earth, it had to be this woman who had caught their conversation. Yukiko, that cold-hearted and hateful bastard, who wanted to hide behind the immaculate facade of an untouchable and wild girl; the blackness of her soul. Yukiko, who had more hatred in her heart than anyone could bear, whose mind was burnt with the hopes of impossible revenges. Yukiko, the woman that hated Misao and whom Misao hated, even if she tried to hide it behind her so-called perfection.
He advanced towards her, threateningly. A pang of fear slipped in the young woman's eyes, but she didn't blink. Shiro couldn't help and let slip out all the scorn he had within himself.
"And this is your fault as well, you bloody schemer! All you spread around you is confusion and discord! Don't hide it behind petty words, you have always been the cause of torments around you..."
A burning pain spurred on his cheek as Yukiko slapped him with all the strength left in her body. Shiro met her eyes and suddenly regretted his words. Her eyes were not the defiant ones he was now used to meeting, but they held hurt and fear, fear of rejection, the sad and terrified look of a lost child. Stunned for a moment, Shiro didn't find the words to express his remorse. When the words finally came, Yukiko had already turned round and disappeared in a wild course away from them.
Guilt made a lump come to Shiro's throat. Despite everything, he knew that hurting everyone with his reproaches, whether they were well founded or not, would not make things easier. But all of this was so disgusting: Yukiko and Aoshi, both of them, knew they were hurting Misao. And he couldn't bear that anymore. Now that things had grown so frighteningly complicated, no one still could hide their face behind a mask of lies. If Aoshi didn't react and make everything clear soon, Misao would die; not physically, but emotionally.
Aoshi. Shiro turned over towards the other man, still standing near him, half fearing he might hit him. But no. Aoshi was standing motionless, his eyes lost in the emptiness of his own feelings. In a burst, life seemed to flood into his being again, and he raised his look, facing Shiro again. His eyes still held anger and rage, but there was no trace of madness left. His jaw set, and he let out these words.
"We'll settle all of this another time."
Shiro nodded slightly. Was it just him or had a seen remorse, deep inside Aoshi's cold eyes?
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Aoshi shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the Aoiya, still in a haze. Why did events always have to rush like this when he would precisely need time to think about it before acting? But time was not for meditation. He was mad at Shiro for having spent the night with his Misa- ... his? How surprising... No, not his, she was not his. He had believed she was his, had made a huge mistake and now he had to make up for it. And this was what he was going to do. Aoshi had made his decision.
He would look for Yuki later. He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't be far anyway; right now he just wanted to be sure that Misao was fine. After Shiro's reproves, he couldn't deny that he himself had thrown Misao in another one's arms. He couldn't deny he knew how much she wept at night, how much she tried to catch his attention, and how much she hurt inside at his feigned indifference. But this wouldn't happen anymore. From now, she wouldn't feel pain anymore. Never.
While all these emotions were playing their disorderly whirl in his mind, his steps had taken him to Misao's door again, just where he was standing a few minutes before. Being very silent, he heard the faint sound of her slumbering breathing. Aoshi sighed slightly, half in relief and half in sadness. Noiselessly, he pushed the shoji open and slipped in the room, merging in the shadows. Under a thin ray of silver moonlight, Misao was lying on the futon, curled into a tight ball to warm herself up as the blanket had slipped away from her when Aoshi had ripped Shiro out of her bed.
She was gorgeous. She was Misao, and yet so very different. He had seen her asleep so many times, she not even aware of it, but just now, she looked more beautiful than ever. Maybe it was because he gazed at her in a completely new way, and because he had at last made his mind up. And here she lay, bathed in the pale light casting purple-blue shades on her deep black hair, and she looked adorable. Yes, she definitely was adorable.
With a small smile on his lips, Aoshi knelt by her side and gently spread the thick blanket over her, making sure she wouldn't be cold. Despite himself, his hand hesitantly stroked her soft hair, and on a sudden impulse he bent over and placed a light kiss on her forehead. Misao frowned in her sleep, then smiled slightly and blissfully slipped in a deeper slumber. Aoshi's heart wrenched, but resolutely he tore himself away from her intoxicating presence and left the room, risking a last glance at his beloved before closing the door.
Aoshi sighed in frustration: now came another part of the struggle he had to get through this night, and not the easiest for the matter. Indeed, he had to find Yukiko and try to reason with the thickheaded she-mule. Firstly he had to find her, but this shouldn't be that hard because she was rather readable when upset. Bracing himself to face the angry and probably deeply hurt girl, he get out of the Aoiya, making sure he didn't wake anyone; then he arrived in the garden and scrutinized the neighbourhoods. In the meanwhile, he was trying to remember those sentences he used to tell Yukiko each time she was on the edge to calm her down, but those times seemed so far away... He truly hadn't a gift with his tongue and this wasn't helping, but Yukiko and him understood each other perfectly and he had always know what to say to comfort her.
As Yukiko was nowhere to be seen, Aoshi began walking soundlessly on the snowy grass, trying to figure where she was. She really was the one to play hide and seek, and as her ninja skills had increased since the last time he met her, maybe he wouldn't find her after all. He was moving like a cat, and he knew that he would localize her before she found him out. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of something moving against the wind in the middle of the black branches covered with snow of the high pine tree. Aoshi couldn't help but smile. This was exactly what he would have expected her to do, but he was a better climber than she was.
Slowly, Aoshi laid his kodachi on the snow between the prominent roots of the old tree, and he started climbing up the black trunk, clinging to the rough bark. But he hadn't climbed up more than a few feet as something hard, of the size of a fist, hit him on the head. Aoshi blinked; he was about to feel his skull to make sure he wasn't bleeding when a hail of pine cones rained down on him. With a grunt of defeat, Aoshi jumped down the tree, forced to give up if he didn't want to let go half the way. Frowning, he pierced through the thick boughs. Yukiko's slender figure was crouching behind a large branch in the heights of the tree.
"GO AWAY!!! PISS OFF, AOSHI!!!" the very angry female voice shouted.
Aoshi tried a new attempt to reach the tree. Again, a rain of cones welcomed him, and again he beat a retreat. He sighed and sat in the snow, remaining silent. Above the garden, the moon was going on with its slow course. After a long while, Aoshi called kindly.
"Yuki?"
No one answered. Prudently, Aoshi got up and walked to the tree and as no pinecones were being thrown at him, he raised his eyes towards the young woman hidden between the dark boughs. Actually he didn't see her, but something was not following the slow rhythm of the wind in the branches, something -- someone – very tensed, waiting like a panther about to swoop down on its prey. He knew her attention was focused on him. With a small, disillusioned sigh, Aoshi leaned against the trunk.
"Yuki... You are strong enough to carry on regardless this kind of false accusations... All of this is not your fault..."
"I don't wanna listen to ya..." a small, muffled voice let out, far away.
Soundlessly, Aoshi started climbing up the tree again; Yukiko didn't react. Actually, she wasn't moving at all. A few seconds later, Aoshi managed to reach her level; and his eyes widened in stupefaction. Cowering between two branches, Yukiko was curled in foetal position, her arms drawing her knees to her chin, and without a noise, hard tears were streaking her face, tracing bright damp furrows on her dusty cheeks. Frowning in concern, Aoshi sat on the branch near her, and he was about to put his arm around her shoulders when she turned her back at him. Totally clueless Aoshi kept gazing at her, not knowing how to comfort her and stop the unverifiable shaking of her frail shoulders. Suddenly, in a very soft move, he caressed Yuki's cheek and breathed,
"Remember what I used to tell you all those years ago, every time you were about to give up?"
Yukiko chuckled between her tears. Aoshi went on.
"Don't let them..."
"Don't let them break you", Yukiko finished with nostalgia.
"Yes."
Sighing, Aoshi patted the sobbing girl's head. He felt old; empty. How many people can say they know you? About Yukiko, he probably was the only one. Torn in that storm of emotions, she was being judged by the ones who didn't have a clue on her true self, who didn't know how vulnerable she was, who didn't see how much she was hurting inside. She just was a lone child, whose last defense was striking first, hurting before being hurt. She had always called, screamed for help, but nobody saw the distress signals she was giving. Nobody but him, and he had wanted to protect her. And he still did want to.
"You know, I missed you during all those years... I regretted having left on a sudden impulse so much..." she sobbed, trying hard to conceal her trembling voice.
"You should have come back..." he tried to reason.
"No, no... I didn't want... I was... I was so jealous..."
Aoshi stared at her wide-eyed. Yukiko shook her head in frustration and kept speaking unsurely.
"You didn't grant me a single look... I was... I was only a part of the scenery... I was trying so hard to be the very best, but I never managed to be as strong as Hannya and Okina... I was jealous... Jealous because you loved Misao more than me, too... She was the only one you really cared about... And she still is... When I wanted to talk with you, I had to come and find you: never have you come by yourself."
Tears had stopped their course on Yukiko's pale cheeks. The young woman's eyes, dull and red from crying, were staring endlessly at something invisible.
"You were so inaccessible... The only one who could weaken you was that brat, Misao-chan. And I was nothing beside her."
Aoshi couldn't utter a word. He would have loved to tell her she was mistaken. And actually, it was wrong: he had cared about her very much, but in a different way he cared for Misao. In his youth he had loved Yukiko, but youth passes and its first loves fades with it. He still cared, but it was all about brotherly affection.
But Yukiko, the beautiful woman sitting near him, that he didn't dare hug in his arms, Yukiko was still in love. She had protected him for so long, or at least had tried to believe she was of any help, and now he realized that all the feelings he ever had for her, had disappeared in the hazes of time. Life was so cruel. But Aoshi couldn't hide the truth behind false masks, as anyway Yukiko knew it from the very beginning. Helpless, he stroke her shoulder and said in a slightly remorseful voice,
"Let's get out of this tree, Yuki."
Yuki nodded weakly. She was slightly shaking, both of cold and having cried, and her cheeks were covered with a light flush for having voiced her feelings aloud, but Aoshi didn't seem to mind. In a graceful move she dried her cheeks and started climbing down, following Aoshi who had already begun his way down. They were already half the way down when Yukiko dreadfully felt her damp hands slipping on the rough bark. She shrieked and tried to reassure her grip, but it was too late.
"Aoshi!!"
Yukiko's bandaged feet scraped against the trunk as she fell backwards, having no chance to catch hold of anything. In a rain of pine needles and snow she hit Aoshi, taking him in her fall, and her eyes widened in horror. With a dull sound they crashed on the snowy ground, and Yukiko's head would have badly hit a bare root if Aoshi hadn't circled her body with his arms and sheltered her head with one of his hands. Yukiko moaned weakly, breathing with pain, and opened her eyes... only to find Aoshi lying heavily on top of her.
The young woman blushed prettily but didn't move. Aoshi's mind was rushing with thoughts about their precarious and intimate position, but he couldn't take his body from her soft warmth, couldn't tear his look off from those amazing, overwhelming green eyes of hers... True, he wasn't in love anymore, but... If he could, maybe he would like to turn back time and again find these blissful times when he was so happy with his fallen friends, Misao-chan and... Yukiko...
And when she delicately tilted her head to kiss him, he didn't find the strength of mind to push her back. Desperately, he wrapped his arms around her and answered to her sad but passionate kiss with one of his.
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Misao's eyes flickered and opened, her heart pounded in her chest and blood banged in her temples. Her room was dark and calm, and floating around it, an unusual, masculine... smell... She bit her lip softly and looked at her side; Shiro was nowhere to be seen. With a bittersweet smile she sat on her futon and looked around. The young guy had surely waited for her to fall asleep and then had got back to his own bed, which probably was for the best, she thought. But what was amazing was that she would have sworn that this scent was not Shiro's. She could have sworn it was Aoshi's.
You're dreaming, girl, she mused in disillusion. Aoshi doesn't care a single bit for you. So it couldn't be his scent.
She had been dreaming the sweetest of the dreams. She had dreamt of Aoshi, caring about her and coming to see if she was asleep and resting well. In her dream, Aoshi was smiling kindly, and in a haze he had kissed her. No real kiss, but just a small peck on her forehead. But it was enough for her. It was more than what she ever got from him.
But dreams never come true.
Misao swallowed hardly and sighed. She was not tired anymore, but looking at the moon, it was only very early in the morning. Racing her fingers through her dark hair to push away the small strands falling on her eyes, she got up and started tidying everything around, since she was not in the mood for anything that implied thinking, like reading or something else. But as she was folding a yukata carelessly forgotten in a corner of her room, Misao heard a piercing shriek coming from outside.
All her fighter's senses mobilized in a single second, she rushed to her window and opened it without a noise, her sharp ears trying to gather any sound. Nothing was to be heard now. But Misao was sure she hadn't dreamt, someone had cried for help. Not caring a bit about she was only wearing her night yukata, Misao grabbed about ten kunai lying on her desk and jumped out of the open window. She gracefully landed on the ground, covered with a thick coat of snow, and started scanning the garden. Misao cursed inwardly; that bloody snow reflected the moonlight with blinding blue-green shades and she didn't see a thing. Walking lightly on the snow so as not to let it crunch, she merged in the shadows, trying to find the intruder.
But as she passed by a high, old cherry tree, a heartbreaking scene unveiled itself. In that single moment, her world fell apart around her, everything smashing to smithereens and being taken off by the cold wind of a winter night. Misao's mouth gaped open and without her noticing, hot tears flooded to her eyes, rolling on her cheeks soundlessly, impossible to stop.
Under the black pine, Aoshi and Yukiko were sitting on the snow, tightly embraced, kissing endlessly.
Misao's hands let out her kunai, having no strength left.
They looked so sad. So innocent. Loving each other like lost children.
Misao bit her lip until blood came, clenched her fists, clenched her teeth, because if she didn't she knew she couldn't help but cry all the pain that was crushing her heart, leaving only a terrible and gaping emptiness inside of her. She felt betrayed, failed, soiled...
Unable to bear the sight anymore, she ripped her eyes from the two lovers and started running, as far away as her legs could withstand, as fast as she was able in such a state of distress. She wasn't even looking where she was going; all that mattered was to spread the largest distance between her and these two. She wanted to run away from Aoshi, and that Yukiko he loved so much. She didn't care about the sharp wind that cut her skin, nor about the snowflakes that started falling again.
Her wild running followed instinctively the usual path she followed every day for now about two years; and Misao, exhausted and out of breath, ended her flight down the huge cryptomeria, in front of the temple where Aoshi meditated... used to meditate, before Yukiko's arrival... the place of the best memories she had with him after his come-back... But all of this was over now, definitely over, and there she lay, crouched between the roots of the protecting tree... But in winter, trees die, just like her love now...
In rage and incomprehension, Misao started punching helplessly the trunk of the tree, her fists scraping against the bark, until her hands were grazed and bloody. But physical pain didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the terrible feeling killing her soul. In a last, desperate cry, she let herself slip on the ground, coiling up between the dark roots, soiling the white snow with her crimson blood, and she stayed there, unable to move, weeping softly.
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Author's notes : YAY !!!! I did it !!!
*dodges the hundreds of arrows, kunais and kodachis thrown at her* DON'T KILL ME PLEEEEEASE !!!! I'm soooooo sorry !!! This part HAD to be written for the good of the story !! I really am sorry *--_--* gomen nasai .
But hey, angst climax should be in next part. So in two parts, everything should be alright, ok ^^ ? (In two parts, it should above all be the end ^^o). Ok ok, maybe 3 parts. I'll see anyway, the storyboard is done but I don't know where I'll cut the story.
All of this is very sad for Misao. Poor Aoshi, Shiro told him his very truth ! Yup, but nothing can be better for the icicle ^^ . And poor Yukiko, neglected by everyone, loved by no one... even if Aoshi cares... *sniffles*
So in next chapter, Aoshi vs Misao !!! This is going to be ANGSTY and sad, so be prepared ^^ !! I promise (?) a happy end.
Ja !! Please review, minna !!!
