No Frontiers Heaven Knows

by AnnabelleG

Misao, she was holding a child. It was an unnerving picture, one which got to Aoshi, striking his senses, though he didn't know exactly why.

1. No Frontiers (Heaven Knows)

No Frontiers (Heaven Knows)

By Annabelle Guillermo

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A Quasi-Song Fic, using the song "No Frontiers" by Jimmy Mc Carthy and the Corrs. I do not own this song.

Rurouni Kenshin is created by Nobuhiro Watsuki and is owned by Sony Entertainment, Jump Comics, and other companies not mentioned. I do not claim ownership for the series.

This is my first attempt at Rurouni Kenshin fanfiction, and C&C's would be nice. I hope this ends up good enough. It is inspired by a line Tin Mandigma used in her great story "Of Love and Honor." Email me at abstractress@yahoo.com or at HannahG@info.com.ph and visit my site at http://storybox.virtualave.net

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Notes,

Kashiwazaki Nenji - Okina's real name
Edo - former name for Tokyo
Umi - Sea
Yamagata - the family name of the Minister of the Army.
Furuha Makimachi - this name hypothetical for Misao's father. Furuha means 'Rain Blade.'

Tokyo Oniwabanshuu:

Hannya - man with ogre mask
Beshimi - the fighter who uses darts and poison
Hyottoko - the person who breathes fire
Shikijo - the man filled with scars

Short Dictionary of Rarely-Used Words

Ai - Love
Baka - Idiot
Chan - suffixed to a name means a close friend. I have made the others use it in slang on its own, simply meaning a close girl friend. ("Oi, Chan!")
Eto - Uh, um
Genki - cheerful, exuberant
Goshujin - Husband
Hai - Yes
Iie - No
Kenpo - Physical defense/offense arts
Konnichiwa - Good Morning
Mou - feminine expression
Okashira - Leader
Onegai - Please
Onmitsu - Spy

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"_______" = Dialogue

'_______' = Thoughts

~~~ = Change of Scene, Setting, or Time Gaps

_______ = Flashback

Timeline: This songfic happens four years after the Enishi Arc.

Note: Most scenes here are written by me, and most of them are just likely events, which, by any chance, I am not sure if happened. This is not canonical to the storyline - just possible moments of the past.

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Work to do.

Shinomori Aoshi stared impassively at the pile of paperwork on his desk and sighed. Yes, it was time to do his job.

It wasn't that he couldn't do it. Everything was a routine, he could very well finish every item in an hour without difficulty. After all, he had been used to so much more of those duties when he had been Okashira. In fact, this wasn't even half of what Misao had to deal with daily.

It had been four years...

Four years since they had last met any serious trouble of sorts. Four years since they had to face dangers in order to help Himura Kenshin, and more so, since he had returned. Back from a field of blood and misunderstanding, from a world inside that revolved only around his misguided sense of revenge and power.

It seemed like yesterday,

Or so far away.

He watched the candle flickering by his desk. Years had passed, with all his meditating, all the attempts to regain what he had been. He had long ago accepted his mistake, the wrong of losing one's self and purpose. And with every breath, he tried to regain what was once himself. He wanted to rediscover his identity, and to be familiar with his soul.

And yet, with all the searching...

He had tried to make peace with himself. He had welcomed his faults, and tried to recover his honor by accepting the consequence of his actions. He knew, still, that the distance placed by the others on him were all his fault. He had made them wary, and he had set his pleasure on a high pedestal, knowing that it wasn't his to take, with what he had done and all.

He still didn't feel redeemed.

He hoped that accepting what he deserved would be enough to make him happy. Yes, happy, not the exuberant joy that Misao and the others displayed, but content. Wistful, yearning and probably regretful, yet content with an inner joy, for he was finally doing what was right and just. Yet there was a space, a question that lingered in the outskirts of his mind. Hanging on, if needed, for eternity, not wanting to let go. He knew he wouldn't find peace if he ignored it.

He needed to do what was right. Yet, was what he was doing to himself now the right thing? Why did he have to do it? Why was he trying to regain his self-dignity, when it would not actually bring good or right to anyone?

He sighed, and the seeking in his mind brought out an intimidating thought.

He did not know his purpose anymore.

He stood up and left the study room, walking down the end of the hallway quietly. His feet padded soundlessly, yet moved in rhythm with the pounding, yet silent frustration of questions in his head.

He stopped by the window and stared outside, at the sakura trees that clustered in the Aoiya's garden, with the other plants settling in mysterious, yet perfect harmony with them. A reason.

He no longer understood the reason he fought and lived for. The driving force that caused him and his companions to protect the Edo castle during the Bakamatsu was left blurred. Why did he train, and why did he allow himself to become the Okashira? Why ever had he risked his life in countless battles? What was the reason?

"What is the reason in my life?" he murmured.

He had fought to protect.

Yes, to protect the lives of the people, of the future of Japan, where there will be no turmoil and no uncertainty. He defended what he thought was right. He fought to create a better world.

A better world for what?

For what reason did he protect these people? What made him seek to give them a happy future? He continually searched for the deepest, most profound purpose in his life, that which caused his desire to do what was right and to defend the lives of many. He knew that his reasons were for peace, yet he couldn't understand it, himself.

It wasn't self love, if it were, he could have trained with his skills and used them for other lethal purposes just for his own self need. He had nearly done that, but had fortunately found out soon enough that it wouldn't be enough. He could have gained money and all his wants to himself. Yet he knew that such a thing would not make him happy.

It wasn't simply for the other lives, too. For if his purpose was just for the lives of others, wouldn't he have been happy by now? It wasn't for retribution, for he didn't have any blood he was against at, nor where there any debts to be paid, for him or by him. He was not forced to join the Oniwabanshuu, either, and there were no deathbed oaths to fulfill.

For love? Yet he wasn't supposed to love now. If it had been the first prospect in his mind, he could have pursued other means. Now, he was wary of openly showing love.

What was it, then?

He didn't know.

And he knew that he would never receive the joy he was seeking, the real happiness, if he didn't understand his purpose. All that was there, now, was the will to atone for his sins.

He then withdrew from his position and walked back to his study. He faintly heard the sounds of jubilation downstairs, where he knew an important visitor had come. He was too busy with his inner turmoil.

He glanced through his half-opened door and saw the paperwork he had yet to finish.

Work to do.

Yet there was no purpose.

He sighed.

~~~

Misao unknowingly dropped the piece of cloth she was holding when she noticed a woman enter the wooden doors of the Aoiya restaurant. Her mouth dropped and her eyes were wide, yet immediately broke into a grin when she fully recognized the woman. "Omasu!" she shrieked.

The woman's brown eyes settled on her, "Misao, is that you?"

She squealed from her position and promptly ignored the customers she was serving as a waitress, "Of course it's me, baka! It's nearly been two years since you grabbed that handsome goshujin of yours! What took you so long?" she demanded as she ran to her friend, turning to hug her.

"Oh, Misao, be careful!" Omasu reprimanded when the girl was set to barrage her with a tight hug. That was when Misao noticed that the bundle in Omasu's hands was not a gift, but a...

"Goodness, Omasu-chan, its beautiful," she whispered.

"Yes, isn't he? His name is Umi, just like the sea. Misao, this is the reason why I took so long to visit." Omasu explained gently, happiness brimming from her deep brown eyes.

"Oh, Omasu, I'm so happy for you. Ever since you married and moved away from us, I've been missing you, baka-chan. But I'm glad you have this to show for your absence," Misao softly answered after several seconds of silence. Her voice was still in a whisper as she placed a hand on the baby's cheek, afraid to shatter his innocent sleep. "This would compensate for all the times you made us miserable without you."

Omasu smiled. "I know."

"OMASU!" the beautiful silence was shattered. "YOU'RE BACK!" And the rest of the diners at the Aoiya had their attentions caught by the startling, yet heartwarming reunion enfolding before them.

From the door to the kitchen were the rest of the crew, namely Okon, Shiro and Okina, all stuck in the doorway due to the crammed space, eager to get through. All were yelling out various messages of "Why didn't you come calling earlier?" and "What took you so long?", filled with other explicit words due to their current position.

Finally, Kuro came from behind them and kicked them from behind, sending all of them crashing non too gracefully to their knees. He looked on innocently and gave Omasu and Misao a "V" sign with his fingers, "Welcome back, chan!"

"Oh, and not only has she been back from her officer husband, she's even got a baby to show! Is this a plan to make us envious?" Okon grumbled as she stood up and dusted off her skirt. But all of them noticed her genuine grin well hidden behind the curtain of her hair.

"No, actually," Omasu answered, winking at her. "It's a plan to give Okina a convincing picture, so that he would stop being lecherous whenever around me. It would save me the torture, you know, when he's got only you around. So be convinced, Okina, and start looking for someone else to badger." Her eyes widened when the rest of the single female customers nodded with her.

"Convincing enough, darling." Okina called out, a mischievous, yet proud look in his eyes. Omasu took note of this and returned his look. "Be serious, old man, or I would have my husband come here and arrest you."

"Convincing enough, indeed." Shiro muttered from underneath Okina.

And soon they were all together, hugging each other and taking turns to hold the now awakened Umi. Amidst the laughing, some of them were actually crying. Misao was overwhelmed by the picture they made. It was almost perfect, and she felt overjoyed.

But then, a frown found its way into her face. Oh, almost perfect... but it lacked. Aoshi-sama wasn't with them.

She sighed. Whenever occasions called for a get-together, he was always absent, or otherwise, in a distant corner, just watching. He still refused the comfort of the arms of the Oniwabanshuu. It was as if he was resiliently putting barriers between him and them, not wanting to be too attached. Was that his way of redeeming himself? Being lonely?

Oh he was too distant, caught up with his own search, with his own reasons, refusing their help...

Refusing her help.

"Darn it, you've been gone too long, I'd never expected you to come barging in with... this!" she suddenly said, wanting to leave the uncomfortable trail of thoughts. She was surprised when Omasu placed 'Umi-kun' in her arms.

"Oi, Misao, I didn't exactly recognize you either. How come you're wearing this," Omasu answered, tugging on the sleeves of Misao's kimono, which thus resulted in a groan from the girl. "And this?" she asked, pointing to the ornamented bun on her hair. "Have you finally come out and decided to be a real woman?" she giggled, "If you do, I have some eligible young friends for you to meet--"

"Omasu, give it up! It's not what you think," she snarled.

Okon snickered, while triumphant looks lightened on the faces of Shiro and Kuro. "Don't push your luck, Omasu-chan. The only reason she's wearing that is because it's what waitresses are supposed to wear. No, scratch that--"

"Yea, she still wears that skimpy ninja outfit whenever she works," Kuro added, his eyes were twinkling with amusement.

"It's not skimpy!" Misao suddenly had the urge to stomp her foot on Kuro's shin. If it weren't for the sleeping baby in her arms... "And besides, you never thought it was skimpy before."

Shiro laughed, "That was when you were sixteen. Chan, you seem to have forgotten that you are... maturing."

"What?!"

"I see what you mean," Okina pointed out while rubbing his beard. "We need to have that uniform of yours redesigned. You're twenty, girl, and you attract attention--"

"If I recall accurately, someone told me I had the body of a twelve year-old!"

That particular comment caught the attention of several men dining in the restaurant. The group fell silent as they watched when the men turned appreciative glances over the figure of the fuming girl, who was apparently too upset too notice.

"Jou-chan, I wouldn't be complaining if I were you!" someone shouted out from the back. Misao's head snapped as she turned to glare at him.

"I rest my case." Okina closed his eyes and nodded, holding out a palm in sweeping motion towards Misao.

"That was four years ago, Misao-chan. And if you would think about it, it was Kaoru who noted that, and you haven't seen her recently either. The dear girl has been busy with a family of her own. I told you that you would... develop soon enough." Okon said wryly.

Misao, suddenly willing to change the subject, tossed around, "Well that doesn't account for the kimono."

"Yes, I'm eager to hear about that," Omasu said, grinning wickedly as Misao pretended to distract herself over baby Umi.

"Euh, she couldn't wear the skimpy outfit because Okina wouldn't allow it, not that THAT has actually stopped her -- ow!" Shiro stopped as Okina hit him in the head. "So, we needed some, er, tactics."

"Yes, all it needed was a bet," Okon put in, a touch maliciously.

"You rigged the game!" Misao shot in. "I should have known Jiya and Kuro were involved when you made that so-called bet with me."

Her complaints were ignored as Shiro decided to continue. "So we all know how good Kuro is with Shogi (Japanese chess) further proven by his undefeated reputation. There was a match between Okina and Kuro then. Well, I made a bet with Misao about who would win. Naturally, she chose Kuro, and was so sure about him. The bet was about things we would never do."

Kuro nodded unashamedly, the nerve! "It was to wear a female kimono - for the both of them, complete with jewels and ornaments - for one whole week. I knew Misao wouldn't pass that up. Unfortunately..."

"No, assumingly!"

"... I lost to Okina. Look at that, I knew he had the skill within him." And Omasu laughed as Okina started posing, showing his arm muscles. "And, well, poor Misao-chan."

"Yeah, especially when she gets pitted against by the whole group. I promise you, I think it's a way to get revenge for the trick Hannya and I played on him when I was a kid. I just knew you were all into this. I mean, who could be lousier at Shogi than Jiya? A cat can beat him at chess."

"I heard that, Misao."

"I'm wearing a kimono, Jiya!"

"And we're going to make sure it remains that way!" Okon put her two cents in.

From the frying pan and into the fire. 'Next time, I'll stick to thinking about Aoshi-sama,' she thought with a moan. "Oh, good grief!"

~~~

"--I mean, who could be lousier at Shogi than Jiya? A cat can beat him at chess." Aoshi heard as he went downstairs to have a drink and to check out the commotion himself.

'Ah, still nursing pain about the lost bet, I see,' he thought with wry amusement as he turned to take a glass of water.

"I heard that, Misao." Okina answered threateningly. Aoshi very nearly sighed, it was amazing how childish Okina could act when around Misao and the other Oniwabanshuu.

"I'm wearing a kimono, Jiya!" He could almost imagine the look on the girl's face. Eyes glittering dangerously and cheeks blushed with anger, it was a picture he'd seen only once, yet had never forgotten.

"--We're going to make sure it remains that way!"

"Oh, good grief."

And he heard all of them laugh at the inevitable response. He even sensed that most of the laughter came from the frequenters of the restaurant, all unknowingly being included in the conversation. He heard a familiar female voice, one that he hadn't heard in a long time. Omasu. She had married Fuuma Yamagata, an officer who was a relative of the Minister of the Army. It would provide a great source of information for them. Now Yamagata Omasu, she'd left nearly two years ago and hadn't visited ever since-- to the group's annoyance. He'd heard more about it from Misao whenever they were working on the papers. It was a joyous occasion, indeed.

He almost smiled.

Almost.

He sighed, at least he could greet them. He would worry about his own problems later. So he calmly set down his glass and went toward the kitchen door to make her aware of his presence. That would be enough.

"Misao, we have to make sure that the man you would end up marrying would permit you to walk around in your onmitsu attire. Now that could be a problem!"

"Not to worry, Omasu-chan," he heard her grumble, "You've absolutely no need to excite yourself over my private affairs. I can settle for a good husband on my own - without your help, thank-you-very-much! I'll have one soon enough, just when I finish looking." Aoshi frowned.

He slid the door open and wasn't really surprised to find the group chatting animatedly while the diners were smiling and listening, sometimes asking questions. He spotted Omasu. Sure enough, she was blooming, glowing with a joy he rarely saw anymore. He wondered at the source of this happiness. Could her wedding alone cause this?

Omasu then noticed him and bowed, surprising everyone. "Konnichiwa, Aoshi-sama. It's nice to be back."

He nodded, ignoring the notion that she was very formal with him compared to the hugs she had given the others. "Good morning to you, too, Omasu. I trust your trip went well."

"Well enough indeed."

It was a disquieting situation, with everyone's attention on him. Though he had been in that condition before as the Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu, he had never actually thought it to be as uncomfortable as it was now. Ah, the things he got involved with. He didn't want to ponder on it any longer. He bowed slightly, it was time to retreat.

And that was when his eyes fell on her.

His mouth very nearly fell open as he gasped.

It wasn't simply the fact that she looked different today, although he had never seen her in an overly well-prepared kimono before. That wasn't enough to get to him. Surprising, and maybe even pleasant to look at, (Yes, pleasant to look at, he slowly admitted to himself) but that wasn't the case.

Misao, she was holding a child.

It was a very unnerving picture, one which got to him, striking his senses, though he didn't exactly know why.

Maybe it was the way she looked, like a mother holding a baby. Or maybe it was the gentle light in her eyes, or the hushed way she spoke to calm the awakened boy. It was perhaps the way she looked compared to the girl he returned to years ago, now a woman, with maturity lining the way she stood up, yet still very innocent. And now, she was holding a baby to her chest, and her eyes would stare wonderingly into his eyes, seeking the abstract things from within...

Or maybe because it was Misao, his Misao-chan, the one he held when she had been an infant, now holding an infant of her own.

... Now she looked like a mother, shining brightly with a child... she looked so tender...

And her eyes turned to him, as if sensing the gape on his soul's face. The blue-green orbs were worried, and they were what promptly brought him back to his feet.

"Aoshi... sama?" she whispered, silently asking if he was alright.

He moved his vision and saw that Omasu was taking the baby from Misao's arms. So it was Omasu's baby, he should have realized. No wonder she was glowing with joy. He shook his head. "Excuse me."

Then, without another word, he left the room.

~~~

Later after dinner, Aoshi found himself standing before the study again, looking at the amount of paperwork he was left to do.

He sighed, at least the pile had lessened.

Ironic, the whole group (or family, as Misao had painfully called them) where downstairs, celebrating with cheers and drinks, laughing and reminiscing. And here he was, going to the study - alone, and with the excuse of having some work to do.

'It's been years, and yet you still won't join us... Why do you reject our company, Aoshi-sama?' Misao's voice rang through his head.

"Misao." He whispered as he pushed the door open and went in, ignoring the glaring setting of loneliness and isolation in the room. Be it better for him to handle his own difficulties alone, without having to involve the others all over again. He wouldn't know how to relate to them, and them to him. He could regret it.

And then the earlier disturbing image flickered across his mind.

Misao, holding a child in her arms.

He frowned, why was it so?

He unconsciously sat down on a chair, giving time to think to himself rather than work. His reaction to the sight of her was unnerving, and he was determined to find out why. Somehow, it tugged at an unknown part of him, something he had long ago forgotten and ignored...

He sighed throught the small aggravation and blinked his eyes. He decided to ponder more on it, then realized where he was seated.

At Misao's chair, facing her own desk.

He quickly stood up and moved to his own work area. He had almost forgotten his place, and that this time was so different from before.

He noticed the papers Misao had yet to finish, and could imagine her nose wrinkling in disgust. She hated paperwork. Aoshi gave a small grin. The study wasn't his, alone anymore. It had three tables, one for him, for Misao, and for Okina.

It then dawned on him how different it was when he had been the Okashira. Of course, that had been so many years ago. So many changes have happened, and they were all evident.

In the four years since Misao had been Okashira, she had been steadily maturing, and had taken her duties seriously. Though she had never been as grim as he was, he could see her effort and her skill. She was a good leader, and it was proven by the honor and trust the others had in her.

When Aoshi had been the leader, the others respected him. Now that it was Misao, the others did respect her, but more so, they loved her as well. It didn't matter from where the others were based; once they noticed her eyes (as it seemed), they immediately complied to her wishes. Misao had smiled at the Oniwabanshuu; he had warned them to follow him without question. They all followed the two of them as leaders.

Strange how different they could be, yet at the same time, they were so similar. She had another way of getting what she wanted, and she was successful with it.

Maybe it was because she had never experienced what he had.

Yet she triumphed in her way.

He shook his head, Misao was special person on her own. Under Okina's supervision and his advices, she had steadily lead the Oniwabanshuu and had done well. She could easily slip from friend to leader, and from fun to serious business and duty. There were times when they left her to decide on her own, and surely enough, she didn't disappoint them.

Of course, that still didn't abate her dislike for taking care of the signing of important papers. The reports were the only thing that really held her interest, and she wanted them said rather than written. Little Misao, leader, and now, she was twenty. Responsible enough, yet still a child in so many ways. Young.

Which was why they divided the reports into three piles, one half for Misao, one fourth each for him and Okina. 'Well enough a plan,' Okina had said. However, Aoshi was guessing that they would have to let her handle things on her own soon enough, she was capable enough, though he knew she would complain.

He snorted as he shook his head, that didn't matter: she would also be proud of herself. 'She should be.'

As for the others, they were still dedicated. Shiro was continuously courting a girl downtown, and it wasn't sure when they would be married. He had wisely kept his mouth shut about his relationships, and was thus kept from being badgered about it. Still efficient as a messenger, he often did the traveling and was Misao's most usual companion whenever she went calling on other Oniwabanshuu bases.

Kuro, still the 'King of Shogi,' had not mentioned anything about settling down. It seemed that he had no intention of leaving, and was perfectly content with his adoptive family. His skills were always put to use, for Misao had sensibly put him to lead some of the ninjas when it came to missions. And, though Aoshi had never expected it, he was doing a good job. Misao seemed to have that knack for finding hidden talents. She even personally spoke to those recently recruited ninjas, or those wanting to learn how to protect themselves.

Okon, still as youthful as she was when she was in her younger years, had yet to meet "Hiko-sama" again. Misao had complained enough about her obsession with Hiko Soujirou, the man who had once saved their lives. He found out that the situation seemed hopeless, if it weren't for the weekly treks she had discovered Okon taking discreetly. She suspected that Okon had finally located the hut where the infamous master of Hiten Mitsurugu Ryu lived. Despite all rumors, he knew that the extremely talented kunoiichi could be depended on. She had also been Misao's mother-sister figure these days, losing Omasu to society's protocol and all.

Okina, well, he hadn't really changed at all. Wiser, sometimes more contemplative, and often silent, just observing nature, Okina had settled down finally. He was bent on training Misao as a leader and teaching her all important things there was to know. He could imagine Misao saying "But that still won't stop his lecherous ways..."

Misao.

She never ceased to remind him how she felt for him, though her determination seemed to waver. He sighed.

No, it wasn't that. He knew, from Misao herself, that she felt something for him. She never denied that, had never given up. In fact, more than ever, she was more determined. But unlike before, where she worked with overzealous exuberance, she had retreated into a more relative pace. She wasn't as pushing and forceful, but still dedicated. He'd found himself enjoying her company more, whenever she would bring him his morning tea at his meditations in the temple or when they worked together. Sometimes, it was so easy to talk to her, he would forget the barriers he had set upon himself.

Which was why he would draw away from her. Her unconscious proximity was so evident and strong, it frightened him. Sometimes, her smile was enough to make him weaken his resolve. It threatened his control and his sense of self-dignity. She tempted him to...

... just smile and be happy...

Yet he knew that he couldn't. It wouldn't be right, not unless he found peace and fulfillment within himself. Not unless he found the reason at the center of his life.

Still, it was so appealing, the opportunity called out to him, asking him to claim this different joy. He couldn't help but wonder, what if he just forgot about all his searches and took her brightness and her spirit, and just held them in his palm and never let her go? To return her enduring affections and to see that smile he had grown accustomed to color her face...

But it was just a possibility. He could if he wanted to, and maybe he did want to, but not just yet. There wasn't any time, nor the urgent need. Not now. If he was to gather Misao's light and her soul, he wouldn't be able to hold on to it for long. It was too powerful, too precious for him to contain. He wasn't ready for it, not until he understood.

And then he saw her again, holding Omasu's baby.

His eyes narrowed, and he felt that nostalgic feeling again. Why?

And then the image blurred, replaced by Misao holding another child. A child with different features, but had her eyes, the child of a man. Another man.

Her child...

His chest felt tight. He then realized that he was hurting, that he could not bear the image any longer, where the sudden ache in his chest dared to destroy him. There was anger, then disappointment, pain, and finally, despair. He could not -- would not allow her to--

And suddenly, a tug inside him brought him back to reality, a voice accusing him of being unreasonable and unjust. He knew that he wouldn't be able to counter that thought. After all, what right had he to feel upset over her possible relationships, when he himself had never considered theirs? He had no right to forbid her, or to bind her to him, when she had willingly come and asked, and he had refused her.

Wanting to let go of the thought, another one occurred to him.

Why... That such a picture could bring so much emotions to him... The thought itself disturbed him. He stood up and went to the door, walking to the end of hallway again. It didn't help that the study was too private that they didn't put a window for protection. He needed to think.

He stared at the garden again, and now, the greenery was washed in the faint moonlight. So comforting was the light, as if brushing her hands over the darkness, and thus making it beautiful, a harmonious balance of dark and light.

Comfort, she comforted him.

(You refuse my help, Aoshi-sama.)

Her appearance made its way into his mind again. This time, there was a dark-haired child in her arms, and the baby had light blue eyes. His own blue eyes.

He almost smiled.

(Why?)

Almost.

(Isn't there anything I can do?)

What was happiness? The very same one that made Omasu illuminate? And at what price? How? Was it how he would feel if he saw Misao swelling with his own child? If not, then why did the image create an overwhelming flow of jubilated emotions that threatened to break forth from within him? If not, then why did the image bring him so much enlightenment? Like a breeze going through him, invigorating him, he had suddenly felt fresh.

Comforted.

(Don't bother, Misao. There is nothing you can do. This burden is mine alone.)

What was happiness?

But would it matter? 'No, happiness isn't mine to take. I am unworthy.' Yet how could he decide if he was unworthy or not, when he did not know his purpose or what he had really wanted in the first place? How would he know if he had really failed?

And the image remained.

(Then what, Aoshi-sama? What would make it easier? What would help you?)

Why was it so important?

(I don't know, Misao. I really don't know.)

And his thoughts went to what made the picture different in the first place.

(And Misao shook her head, 'You don't know anymore. Or maybe you forgot... or you just didn't notice it.' she said sadly. She then slowly turned, then walked away.)

The baby.

~~~

Aoshi appeared down the stairs, calling the attention of the rejoicing people. Okina was swapping stories with Omasu's husband, Fuuma, while she and Okon were giggling over related experiences of the past two years. On the other hand, Shiro and Kuro were busy with themselves, keeping company over a set of cards and cups of sake. They would occasionally throw in a comment or two to the girls' conversation, or would start teasing them. He nodded silently as they all noticed him.

"Oi, Aoshi, so you finally decided to come join us. Here, have a seat!" Okina called out while jiggling a cup of sake, he then offered him a chair beside Omasu's husband.

He only bowed and refused, "Thank you for your invitation, but there is something else that I have to do."

Okina frowned and shook his head, "What is it? Is it important?"

"Nothing really to be concerned about, Okina." Aoshi answered, ignoring Okina's sudden barb, "Kill joy." The man was too drunk, he concluded, knowing fully well that he wasn't. Aoshi then faced Omasu, his mouth forming what seemed like a small smile. "I have yet to see your son, Omasu. If... you may, could I..."

Omasu smiled as she held her husband's hand. "He's with Misao in the garden, Aoshi-sama. She decided to steal him away for a while. After all, the guys are getting loud."

She was surprised when he stiffened. She vaguely understood the meaning of this gesture, so she immediately turned to remedy,

"A -- Aoshi-sama, if you would like me to --"

"Don't bother, Omasu-san." Aoshi answered, raising a hand. "I'll go and see him." He turned around and headed for the garden. "By the way, his name is..."

"Umi."

~~~

He searched for her as he circled the porches of the Aoiya, and then stopped as he stepped into the east garden, the very same one which he stared at from the window. Sure enough, he saw Misao standing a few meters away, in the center of the greenery, lighted upon by the moon. He forced himself to approach her, but was once again mesmerized by the site. Somehow, Misao in this situation always stopped him on his feet, and the amount of shock he felt hadn't even decreased from the time he first saw her holding Umi.

He released his held breath. Shaking his head, he moved to tell her--

"You are so innocent," he heard Misao whisper, and he could not speak any longer, could only listen as she continued. Too caught up in the baby, she was oblivious to his presence.

She sighed as she held Umi closer, and the baby made a contented sound. "When I look into your eyes... I see... something so pure and unadulterated. It is so beautiful, so -- certain. I've never really seen something like it before, so fragile. I believe it's your innocence, Umi-kun." she said wistfully.

"Your eyes are so trusting, always looking with favor at anyone who holds you. You would never expect anything bad to happen. You give your love so freely, you become vulnerable. It's no wonder people like you easily get hurt."

Aoshi took in a quick breath.

She smiled, "Maybe that's why I have this overwhelming urge to protect you with all my life."

He closed his eyes at her words. No wonder he felt something about Misao and the baby. The sense of deja vu was there, and it didn't leave him. It was very evident now.

Misao was saying the very same words he had uttered when he first held her as a child. There, happening before him, was a repetition of his own experience. And not so surprisingly anymore, it shook him. He had never had a childhood. The best kenpo student of all squads at ten, the official bearer of the highly confidential messages and plans of the Okashira at eleven. Consulted by the Okashira about his documents and missions at thirteen, and the leader of a squad at fourteen. Finally, at fifteen, he had been the Okashira. To have her feel the very same way he had felt twenty years ago...

______________________________

The eleven year-old Aoshi was running quickly, in search of his next obligation. He frowned, he needed to get to Makimachi Furuha, and fast. The Okashira had a very urgent message for him to deliver. Dodging stealthily past the halls, he halted to a stop when he saw them.

He then noticed the room that they recently vacated. There were some people about, all of them standing before the front door. He noticed Makimachi in the middle, with two men and a woman who was smiling immensely. He straightened and cleared his throat.

One of the men turned to him, "Yes?"

He could now clearly notice Furuha Makimachi. He was holding a bundle enclosed in sheets, and his eyes, a deep green that was usually so intense, were at the moment gentle as he tenderly held the object closer. He had a smile on his face, and the way he carried the bundle was so affectionate, it was as if it was the most precious thing in the world. It was a striking picture, a man made soft and sentimental by a little something, his face alighted a kind glow by the candles. Aoshi was almost distracted by the warmth in his features.

"A call for Makimachi-san from the Okashira, sir. It is of very high priority."

The man nodded and turned to Makimachi, "Furuha, an important message for you." The woman bowed and entered into the room they were standing in front of.

The man immediately looked concerned as he approached Aoshi, but he still hadn't released the object in his hands. That was when Aoshi noticed a face peeking from underneath. A baby... Makimachi-san's baby. He was shocked, but he didn't show anything of that sort.

He cleared his throat and said in a concise manner, "Yes, sir. The Okashira seeks to speak with you as soon as possible about the operation to be held at Edo tonight."

A serious, yet hesitant look flashed across Makimachi's face. "I understand. Come now, Yamaguchi, we must not waste time." The other two men nodded as he continued. "Thank you, young man. We better leave. If you would be so kind as to bring her inside and tell her mother about this."

Aoshi looked confused, until Makimachi gingerly placed his baby in his hands. "I hesitate leaving her, but please take care of her."

He only had a second to nod, too startled, before Makimachi-san left with the others. When they were gone, he nervously looked at the baby in his arms.

And then his breath was taken away.

Azure eyes stared widely at him from underneath the sheets. Eyes that were too bright, and not entirely blue... they had a different shade, a unique one that seemed to shine blue-green instead. Her eyes reminded him of the river.

And then the child's face broke into a grin. She just stared at him, as he clumsily moved her closer to examine her. And then there was silence, with only the soft sounds from her curious mouth interrupting every now and then.

"Your eyes are so innocent," he whispered finally. He was reminded of the bitter events in his life that caused him to grow and get accustomed to battles so quickly. Yet all those times, never had he once seen such boundless purity. And it was found in her small eyes. "You trust everyone, and you are vulnerable. Makimachi-san would have a hard time wanting you to be protected, especially when he is not around."

The baby blinked at him. Despite the agitation he felt about holding a child for the first time in his life just a few seconds earlier, grudging, too quick affection surged within him. It was unexplainable. All of his thoughts were centered on her eyes, those that looked up at him adoringly - never had he been looked at that way before. 'Like a river... or an endless ocean, with so many sparkles -- stars reflect you.'

"You are so rare, tiny blue-green eyed chan. I'm going to have to protect you for a little while. Trust me." He found himself whispering. Oh, he was so like a child again at the moment, left defenseless from the charms of an infant.

And without another word, he knocked on the sliding door, all the while watching with childish fascination the various ways she moved, or how her hands tried to raise, or how she would slightly smile...

Then the door opened, and the woman he had earlier seen was surprised to see him. "Oh, Misao-chan!" she exclaimed, glancing at Aoshi. Misao, chastity... fidelity, how fitting. "Thank you very much. Let me take her to her mother. Come in."

And Misao was taken from his arms. He soon realized that he didn't want to let her go. But the baby wasn't his, and it seemed just as eager to be in her mother's arms again.

So he followed her inside.

______________________________

Aoshi was jolted back to the present when he heard the baby cry out uncomfortably, fussing. Misao, caught unaware herself due to her own reminiscing, quickly became worried. He wasn't surprised, he knew she wasn't really used to holding babies. This one just caught her affections instantly. So the way she cautiously held the baby wasn't new to him - he had been that way, too.

Being with her as a child made him familiar with a baby's need and gave him the ability to easily notice what was wrong, so he then moved to approach her and handle the young one, himself. But before he got to call her attention, he was halted when he dimly saw her smile.

A knowing look found its way into her features as she reached out and gave her small finger to Umi. She nuzzled his chin with it and whispered, "There now. Mou, it's not good for you to cry." The fussing immediately stopped, and when she moved her finger, the baby's hand circled around it and gave it a protective hold.

"I knew this would work. Didn't take me long to realize, ne?" she asked the child as it cuddled her finger. She laughed. "That would always work. I should have known all it would take to calm you was the pinky finger. Of course, that worked on me, too. Do you know that? When I was young, I couldn't sleep without anyone's pinky. Coincidence?"

He caught himself from grinning. He remembered those nights, so long ago, when his friends and him took turns lending their fingers to her so that she could go to sleep. Her father had discovered that weakness and had wisely tipped it to them.

Yes, he thought. And this time, he did smile, a wistful one at that. If there was one similarity between his, Hannya's, Beshimi's, Hyottoko's, Okina's, and soon Shikijo's built, it was their small fingers. All of them had long, rarely trimmed short yet clean 'pinky finger nails' due to Misao's propensity for rubbing her thumb around the small nail while holding the finger tightly. The habit lasted until she was nine; it was all it took to get her to sleep, except, of course, for the occasional story or impressive tricks.

They all had shifts. Misao's father was usually on trips and missions, and her mother died at the age of two, so he had taken over tucking her in. While he had done the action alone when he was young, that wasn't the case when the others learned about the technique themselves. First, it had been only him, Hannya and Okina (then known as Nenji), then soon, the rest of the brood swiftly pushed their way into the act. Aoshi would put her to sleep on Mondays, while Hannya took Tuesdays, and Okina, Wednesdays. Beshimi, Shikijo and Hyottoko would fight for the next two days. While Furuha Makimachi took to napping her on Sundays and Saturdays.

Of course, the Saturdays and Sundays were subsequently filled when her father had died.

That was years ago, yet the memory still filled his heart, giving him warmth; reminding him of nights filled with laughter, paper cranes and games of hide and seek, of course, with his companions in tow, age not an excuse.

"My father used to say," Misao began, catching his interest, but stopped.

She then sighed, and the act caused him to wonder. He then patiently waited for her next words. She forced a smile and looked at Umi, who had his big brown eyes staring at her, as if actually understanding her words. Aoshi recalled all those times when he had poured his feelings into her as an infant, comforted by her baby eyes, somehow giving him understanding, yet refusing to answer.

He frowned when her blue-green eyes watered, looking like the sea it actually represented. She then trembled, then continued, "My father used to say... that I had heaven in my eyes."

He froze still. And a moment so illustriously important, buried beneath the depths of pain and had remained silent all those years, sought to fill his mind. He pushed down the urge as she went on, the faint voice of a father so long gone lingering in her mind.

"He said, that I gave him a reason to live, that in my eyes was something so beautiful and valuable that he would give his life to protect it. I... never understood what he meant. All that I knew was that there was something very important in me and that I should never lose it. He always told me that I should share heaven to everybody.

"I had Heaven!" She exclaimed, "Heaven in me. Isn't that impossible? But I believe him. I believe everything Otou-chan says. And just because he was willing to to offer his life to protect my heaven, I would hold on to it forever. Heaven in my eyes, that were just like his. Maybe there was heaven in his eyes, too."

She laughed, "My father won't lie to me, you know," she said proudly, as if assuring herself. "He's also the handsomest person I have ever seen, except, of course, for Aoshi-sama and Shikijo. I promised Shikijo long ago that even with all his scars, he would still be one of the handsomest persons to me. Aoshi-sama is simply good-looking."

He once again had to catch himself from giving something between a wry grin and a genuine smile.

"And you know what? I think I see heaven in your eyes, too."

______________________________

"Come, young man."

Aoshi froze still as he heard Makimachi-san's voice calling out to him. But wait -- surely he hadn't detected him. He was, after all, a good distance away, hidden behind the wall. But if Makimachi-san had seen him, would he be upset?

"Now, young man! There's no use hiding it! I've seen you doing it before, although I have a faint idea why you keep on sneaking up on whoever happens to be holding Misao."

His mouth dropped open.

It was nearly night time, and he had wanted to see the baby again. He was planning on finally asking her mother to let him hold her, even if just for once. After all, he had promised to protect the child - though the reason was still unknown. Unfortunately, Misao had been taken outside by her father, so he had decided on postponing his request and just following them. All he wanted was a glimpse, a rare glance at the child who had quickly caught his fascination.

And now here he was, outside the house which held the Makimachi family, hiding behind a shed. And of all things, he had been seen - all those times! And he so prided himself for being one of the best trackers of the Oniwabanshuu, and exceptionally the youngest at that - as his trainer had quoted. But now, he knew he was in trouble.

Finding no way out, he then slowly looked through the corner...

And found Makimachi-san staring fully at him. He nearly yelped with surprise. There was no use hiding anymore, so he boldly revealed himself and gathered his wits about him. He stood up straight and announced in a clear voice, "I wanted to see her."

"And protect her?" Aoshi was surprised by the gently placed question, but slowly admitted, "Yes."

The way he was shocked earlier was nothing to his reaction when he saw how Makimachi-san's face immediately broke into a knowing grin. This was Makimachi! Intense, disciplined, Makimachi-san -- smiling!

But Furuha Makimachi ignored his stunned face and patted the space beside him on the toolshed that served as a bench. "Don't hesitate, sit."

He could have been reluctant, but at Makimachi-san's suddenly kind eyes, he slowly walked over beside him and sat down the proffered seat. His searching eyes beseeched the man as Makimachi faced his daughter again. When Aoshi finally turned his eyes to Misao, Makimachi-san lifted her and placed her in his arms. "Here, you can look at her now."

The baby, seemingly pleased to feel him again, gave a distinctive sound, one that sounded like a small, cheerful laugh. It reminded him of the wind chimes on the door of the main building in the Aoiya. Momentarily forgetting Makimachi-san, he was jolted when he suddenly spoke.

"You're the one who sent me the Okashira's message a week ago, aren't you?"

His eyes widened, and his hands froze, but he relaxed at Makimachi's prodding look and nodded silently.

That was when Misao chose to fuss. She started making sounds of discomfort and was turning about. Aoshi didn't know what to do all of a sudden, and was frantically wondering if he had hurt her. He was about to panic when Misao started a small cry, and his bewilderment left him helpless. "What--" he couldn't bring himself to ask.

And out of nowhere, Makimachi-san's larger hand took his and drew out his small finger. Aoshi gave him a confused look, but did not say anything as the older man showed his finger to Misao and used it to rub her chin. The baby's cries were stopped, and another laugh escaped her tiny mouth. Then he moved Aoshi's hand to her small fist, and Aoshi's eyes looked on with wonder as her hand enveloped the finger.

"She likes you." Makimachi-san hushed, grinning proudly. "And she likes your pinky finger. Don't worry, you didn't hurt her, she just needed to be comforted and held."

Aoshi slowly nodded, and stared on as Misao tried to move his finger. His eyes brightened.

"She is beautiful," her father said after several seconds.

"Hai," he whispered as an answer, fully involved in watching as Misao rubbed his finger against her cheek.

"Do you know why you want to protect her?" he suddenly asked, out of the blue.

Aoshi stopped his ministrations and hesitated a few seconds of thought before answering, "No, I'm not sure, sir."

"Furuha-san," Makimachi reprimanded. Aoshi stood still again, then simply nodded.

"You are not used to showing your emotions. Do you know why I called you a young man instead of a boy?"

Aoshi took in his observations and had to comprehend them before he gave a gradual nod.

"What is your name?"

"Shinomori Aoshi."

"Well, now, Aoshi. The answer is, it's because of the way you hardly speak, and of course, your eyes."

He froze again. "A typical reaction." Furuha-san smirked, but then he moved nearer and lifted Misao from his protesting hands to elaborate. "Look into her eyes, Aoshi. What do you see?"

Aoshi recalled the very first time he had seen her and nodded as his reaction returned to his thoughts. He immediately knew the answer, and found it once more as he stared into her eyes again. "Innocence."

Furuha-san smiled. "Yes, innocence. But for me, it's more than that."

Aoshi looked at him, a silent question in his eyes. Furuha smiled, then continued, "For me, it is heaven in her eyes."

"... Heaven?"

"Yes, heaven." The older man nodded. "Innocence, purity that goes beyond the violence we experience today. In her eyes, I see a nature that trusts completely, a love so fulfilling and so complete, it wouldn't give you uncertainty. In her vision, I see the future. I see a spark... a place filled with the innocence and love in her eyes, so full of it that happiness would brim. I see heaven."

He had now taken the baby from Aoshi and was looking at her eyes as he had. His voice was full of meaning and affection, a rich, caring quality that delved Aoshi's mind as he listened. "Whenever I fight, I know that I take lives. Is doing that wrong? I am never sure, but I would do everything to protect my ideals, even killing to resolve the differences. I can't do anything about it, you see. I have to kill to defend my beliefs. But either way, I still end up doing a lot of damage - I have taken lives and destroyed the dreams and families of others, no matter how much I was the one provoked to do it."

He sighed. "It disappoints me, all the bloodshed that I cause. But when I arrive home, when I finally see her eyes, all of my pain would disappear. Somehow, they make up for all my sins - because, in her, I see what I sought to protect. I see the reason in my life, and my dream. I would know that all I do won't be in vain.

"This is the reason my life, the purpose in all my fights and undertakings - the heaven in her eyes. I know that you would understand. Now, young man, give meaning to your life - and live it. In the end, truly you would be great, if not in public, it will be in the eyes of those you have affected. You will be pleased and will receive true joy, joy in your heart and contentment in your soul."

He then faced Aoshi himself, placing a lesson in soul. "Set a reason in your life, Aoshi. And choose the right purpose. Mine is to set the heaven in her eyes to everybody, to see her grow with it and live in it. This is all that I need.

"Warriors without a purpose have no use, they will be nothing - truly useless, a waste of teaching. People with evil purposes, on the other hand, might achieve what they want, but will never succeed. There will never be true joy in their hearts - only madness and confusion, a soul broken by desire."

He pointed to Aoshi's chest. "But you, on the other hand, still have a choice. Make your life a reason, Aoshi, and use it to live and give you direction. Truly, you would become a good fighter, one with determination, and one with the will to live. As long as you are willing to live so that you can defend this reason, you will never die - not in vain."

He then turned to Misao. "I have always loved my purpose, and I found it in her eyes. And I will live! Live and die for heaven."

Aoshi looked into Misao's eyes once more, and saw the virtue her father had spoken about: the aspect that had enraptured him. It was the very same purity that made her smile at him with such love, the very same affection that caught him. Her innocence, her heaven. What a wonderful place life could be, if heaven was on earth.

"Do you see a purpose in her eyes?"

He nodded solemnly, the will to survive and fight for this simple flit of a baby, to defend the virtues in her eyes, all of them empowering his words. And then fate bestowed a star on him, giving him the center that would soon make him one of the greatest fighters and the leader of the Oniwabanshuu. "I see Heaven in her eyes, Furuha-san."

______________________________

"He was the greatest father of all. I thought he was perfect, though he denied it a lot. But he died when I was seven. I couldn't let him go... but at least there was Aoshi-sama and the others." She finished. "I just sometimes wish that he was still here with me. There were times when he would be so serious, and then he would play with me. People would say he had two personalities.

"Imagine, two people inside my Otou-chan! While he was stern and always gave the others the 'follow-me-you-must' look, he was kind with me, and the closest I ever got to his anger was spanking. Okon-chan practically swore he never laughed. But he always laughs! That was weird, but that didn't matter. I still loved him... And before he left, he hugged me one last time and sang me his song..."

Aoshi stopped in his meaningful contemplation. The memory brought back a lot of recollections, promises of ideals he had sought to protect. An oath he had long forgotten. Quickly behind the heels of the first realization was a glaring answer to his questions - yet more confusion besieged him. Along with the outburst of recalls came other events, times with his companions and their survival during the Bakamatsu.

But he was again shocked by her next expression. Furuha-san, singing? A song?

"I'd never forget the song he used to sing for me. He would always have to wait for us to be alone. Then we would open my presents from the places he'd been from... he always brought me gifts because he was always away from home. Had I been too spoiled? Maybe... Okina called me a brat the first time I met him, at least I've been told."

Aoshi recalled those moments. Every member of the Tokyo Oniwabanshuu had their own special meeting with the girl. Okina's had been one of the most amusing ones. But his attention was still on her former words.

"I still remember the song and his voice, as if he'd sung it yesterday. That was his song, no one else's. Perhaps that was why I'd never asked Hannya or Shikijo to sing it to me. They'd never heard of it before. And besides, it felt like desecrating Otou-chan's memory. Beshimi was the only one who had heard it... I think he walked into Otou-chan's song session once. But he never mentioned it again. It's just... too painful."

She sighed, "But you're too special. And I feel like... would you like to hear Otou-chan's song?" The baby laughed, and (at least, Aoshi thought) nodded, waving Misao's finger. "Somehow, you make me forget the pain, you know? You just remind me of my Otou-chan, Umi. My father who had the sweetest voice, and eyes of the forest. He said my mother's eyes were like sea. So blue... but mine was like the river. Like Otou-chan and my mother's eyes put together. 'The sea with the forest's leaves reflected on it...'"

"And you," she added, pointing her other finger at him, "have eyes that remind me of the mountains, where Okaa-chan was buried. The earth!"

Her braid swung rhythmically as she rocked Umi. "I like you a lot, baby Umi. I really do. Gosh, I sound silly, pouring my heart out to a baby who couldn't even utter a single answer. Darn it, weasel girl." She laughed at herself, though an affectionate huskiness mellowed her brogue.

Aoshi didn't find it silly. He was smiling openly now, he couldn't help it. Sometimes, he found out that his sentiments were directed at himself. Misao's moments had uncanny resemblances to his. Though what he said in his prayer was, 'Kami, I'm going mad. Why do I prefer talking to a baby with no words rather than meditating?'

Then Misao took a deep breath. He waited for her, but what really captured his anticipation was the song her father had sung. A song that he himself had never heard.

She then walked further in the garden and shifted Umi. "No Frontiers. No uncertainties, just like your eyes..."

'No frontiers?'

The wind seemed to have wanted to listen, for it chose that moment to breeze by her. The moonlight illuminated on her face, and her smile was enchanting. He couldn't move, grateful that he could still see the whole of her from his view. Thankfully, Misao had been too emotional to notice.

He would never forget that image. Ever.

"Oh Kami, Otou-chan I miss you so much." he heard her whisper to the heavens. "This is for you."

She closed her eyes, then began,

"If life is a river,

and your heart is a boat.

And just like a water baby, baby,

Born to float."

She then took another deep breath, and her frail, yet strangely powerful voice continued. A wistful and emotional undertone made her song more stirring, and her poignant melody caught everything: him, the baby, the wind, the moonlight, the plants... everything.

"And if life is a wild wind that blows way on high,

And your heart is Amelia, dying to fly.

Heaven knows no frontiers.

And I've seen heaven in your eyes."

He closed his eyes in reminiscence, bringing to mind how Beshimi always pretended to be caught whenever he was playing Hide and Seek with Misao, though they all knew his great hiding skills. The thought of his dead friend, looking hilariously sheepish at being 'caught' by a small slip of a girl made him smile.

Other memories filled him at her voice, like how Misao would gather all the candles during dusk. She would then arrange them all on the ground outside before Hyottoko, demanding him to light them all for her. The man would always comply, never denying her anything. Sometimes watched by all, he would release the flames from his mouth and would neatly set all of the candles aglow for her. Nothing was more pleasing than his beloved entourage, clapping her hands out loud and hugging him.

'Spoiled indeed.'

He recalled Shikijo's surprise when Misao had claimed that she would grow up just like him, because he was so 'nice and tall.' She wanted to be big so that everyone would like her, and so that she could help them just like he did. No, more exactly, she said that she 'wanted to be a red tree.' What was more astounding was when she tried to paint her hair red, like his. Thankfully, Aoshi had stopped her just in time. They all had their hands full washing the paint of her shirt and hands. But that didn't stop her. The next week she tried using ink to paint scars on her hands. Shikijo had been traumatized by that, but didn't know if he would be touched rather than hurt by the girl's love and admiration for him.

'She was trouble.'

She always got into mischief, especially when she had first seen Okina. She was the first one who gave Kashiwazaki Nenji the name 'Jiya,' though he hadn't been that old that time. A brief touch that hurt and captured his pride, the two of them had been in an all out war of tricks on each other ever since. The nickname also brought about the name 'Okina' soon enough, though he didn't mind. Even throughout the seriousness of war, he always had the time to set a prank on her. They were all surprised by the kind immaturity in the man they perceived as the most grim of all.

'But no one minded.'

Hannya, first wary of Misao's affection, had been one of the most attached ones to her. Every night was filled with stories and drawings of various places and people on her sketch pad. Aoshi remembered their surprise when they all found Misao and Hannya on the floor once, tickling each other silly. They never let him live it down. Sometimes, they would see the two of them hanging on a tree branch, storytelling. He remembered the rage of the others when they realized how dangerous the position was. But Misao had said that she trusted Hannya-chan, and that the trees reminded her of her Otou-chan's eyes. All of them never reprimanded them ever since.

Most astonishing was how Hannya sulked whenever Misao 'spanked' him. The elusive Hannya, brought down to his feet by his blue-green eyed onna-chan.

'Because she had heaven in her river eyes.'

A distant memory flitted past his mind, of a girl screaming "Aoshi-sama!" to hide behind him, eager to get away from the victims of her recent trick. She always ran to him whenever she was in trouble. Amidst them all, he prided himself in being the one she trusted the most. He would always be the one to speak to her whenever she sulked. And she somehow got him to leave a part of his duties everyday. Faint whispers of 'Look, it's the Okashira! And... he's playing with a girl?' made their way into his consciousness. He snorted.

"And if life is a bar room in which we must wait,

'round the man with his fingers on the ivory gates.

Where we sing until dawn of our fears and our fates,

And we stack all the dead men in self-addressed crates."

Memory-touched eyes returned to her as he once again watched Misao as she sang, her eyes watering with tears. He had a notion that she was remembering the very same things he was experiencing. He felt his own lip quiver, if just for a while.

______________________________

"Caught again by her antics?" Aoshi asked as he saw Hannya rocking the six year-old, who lay asleep in his arms, holding his pinky finger, rendered unconscious by all the day's activities.

Hannya gave a faint snort, but Aoshi felt him smile as he directed fond eyes at the girl. "Remember the first time I met her?"

Aoshi frowned, then nodded as he recalled the moment. He gave a small grin. "You thought she was scared of you."

Hannya turned to him, his features danced on by the candles Hyottoko had formerly lighted for Misao, as was his daily duty. "She was three years old, Aoshi-sama! And my face has always been adorned by an ogre mask. What would you expect?"

"I know her." Aoshi answered quietly, after some silence. "She wanted to see everyone I brought in. She has the curiosity of a cat. And when she just stared at you for the longest time, I was alarmed."

Hannya nodded, "We both thought she was frightened."

Aoshi stared straight ahead, basking in the memory, "But then she started to cry. I perceived that my assumptions were right, she was scared. But she was the one who had insisted so on seeing you."

Hannya stared at the girl again, then continued the story, "But she started crying more the moment you carried her and moved away. I was too ashamed to notice."

"We then realized that she was crying because I was taking her away from you." Aoshi said in finality, remembering the astonished look on his face when Misao--

"She ran to me and hugged me. She actually said that I looked nice. Aoshi-sama, she wanted to bring me home as a doll, so that she would have an eternal playmate." Hannya shook his head wondrously. "To say I was shocked was..."

"Putting it mildly?" Aoshi asked, his brow raising. "Misao is complicated. She has the strangest habit with small fingers and likes breaking things so that she could put them back together again --"

"-- That's how she learned to create your paper cranes, Aoshi-sama, and you never had any viable 'magic' skill to show her ever again. Shameful, wasn't it--" He chose to ignore Hannya's rude interruption. Looking away to hide a rare blush, he continued.

"But she has the best taste in friends, ne?" he put softly.

A few moments of silence filled them.

"Not only that, Aoshi-sama, she wins them." Hannya said solemnly. The flame flickered on the candle. "Beshimi was shocked when Misao had located him in the trees. He couldn't believe a child had seen him, when he was a good self-concealer. Then when she demanded him to play Hide-and-Seek with her, he couldn't refuse her."

"She created the strangest rules."

Hannya chuckled, "No hiding on the trees or anywhere above her height."

"But she was too small." Aoshi voiced, now thoroughly amused. "Beshimi didn't know what to do. What was the other rule, the one that changed every time?"

"No looking for her in the shed, or in her room, or underneath the dining room table, or behind you, Aoshi-sama, or anywhere she happens to hide next. The darn adorable genki was actually telling him where she was going to hide." Hannya finished. "Beshimi had to suffer through it. But it was different after that."

"Once he got the hang of it, he was the one who started inviting her to play with him. He was actually being trained in low-ground concealing, especially when there weren't trees. Aside from that, he enjoyed her company too." Aoshi answered, sitting down for a more comfortable position. "After what happened with you, I turned to experiment with her. I dropped her in Hyottoko's arms and deserted him alone with her for an hour."

"You said it was 'training.'" Hannya pointed out.

"It was." Aoshi reasoned, glaring at his comrade. "Look what happened to him afterwards."

"He was terrified the next day." Hannya stubbornly voiced.

"She made him sing, Hannya, you can't question that. And the day after that?" Aoshi urged.

Hannya sighed, defeated, "He became somewhat... friendlier. More wilful. And lippy too. He started becoming less detached. Misao hung on to his leg for a week."

"It worked when I brought Shikijo here." Aoshi stated, crossing his arms with a satisfied look on his face as he quietly stared off.

"No, it exasperated him the most. Although he had promised loyalty to you. He'd spent all his time locked up in his room."

"He wasn't sure if he could associate well with the Oniwabanshuu," Aoshi explained. "So I allowed her to visit him. And between the next hour, they both came out, running."

Hannya raised his chin patiently. "Aoshi-sama, he was chasing after her."

Aoshi closed his eyes, "So what? He did come out of the room. That was what mattered."

"Your plan to 'give him a taste of the Oniwabanshuu' failed completely. He was so upset," Hannya said cockily. Rarely did lighthearted moments like this occur during these days. Their duty had always been their first priority, so Hannya took the opportunity to be a little jocular. Teasing the Okashira was a good source of wit-battles and amusement.

The other opened his eyes, "Yare, it wasn't my plan anyway. I was only considering it, but when Misao said she wanted to see what was in the room, she did the rest herself."

"So that you could avoid the blame? He was in rage when he stormed after her." Hannya's voice was accusing, yet there was a humorous note in his burr.

"It wasn't her fault."

"She bit him!"

"He called her a rodent, Hannya. She complained that he called her a 'river mouse.' A mouse with blue-green eyes, that is."

"She told him he was a red tree and a 'colored mountain.' I wonder where the girl got her strange vocabulary. I suppose that it was from you."

"Shikijo ignored every word she had been saying earlier, she felt that she needed to get his attention, so she gave him... a compliment. And I _did_ teach her vocabulary, but I was never involved with how she used them." He defended, shooting him a glance.

"A compliment, that's what you call that? No wonder Shikijo didn't come out for another week." Hannya stroked Misao's hair off her face with pleased ease in his composure.

Aoshi watched, moved by the sign of fondness. "He did go out after that. More or less, the display of him and Misao made his hiding useless, so he came out to train."

"But other than that, he kept to himself."

"Until a week later, remember? Misao came back to visit him. He was so frustrated with her."

"That was, until she apologized to him and told him that the only reason she wanted to speak to him was because she thought that he was handsome, despite the 'many drawings' in his body. She'd never understood the concept of scars."

Aoshi grinned, "Was that a repetition of what happened to you?"

Hannya smiled back from behind the mask, "I think so. He was astounded."

"And she dragged him outside and introduced him to everyone as her handsome red tree. Ever since then, he'd never locked himself up. It took a child for him to realize that appearances and past failures didn't matter in this place."

Misao yawned, then snuggled nearer to Hannya. He shifted to give her more space in his lap and promised her the comfort of her futon in a few minutes. She nodded hazily, not actually comprehending him, and tucked his hand in her arms. "Good pillow Hannya-chan..." she mumbled.

"She's found a name for you, Hannya." Aoshi ribbed lightly.

"That's just fine. I'm the pillow, and you're her futon." Hannya answered, triumphing at Aoshi's slightly taken aback look. "Shikijo is her tree, while Beshimi is her toy. Hyottoko is 'a perfect lamp' and her dragon."

"Nenji is Jiya." Aoshi completed for him, drawing attention from his ridiculous alias.

"I would never forget those two. Okina is a very good name, thanks to onna-chan here." Hannya whispered.

The rouse made by the two had reached all corners of the Kyoto-based Oniwabanshuu holding, even reaching Edo castle. Kashiwazaki Nenji was the very same person who had supervised over the creation of the Aoiya, but had rarely stayed there after that. Always on missions and assignments, he never had the opportunity to familiarize himself with the people he built the home for.

So naturally, when the Okashira had assigned him to permanently base himself in Kyoto, he had been uneasy. Always quiet, never stopping to speak to anyone other than for orders and assignments, everyone thought him a silent monster, though rumors of his sickeningly sweet (and lewd) humor back home had reached them.

Misao, then three, had quickly grown curious about the man everybody was following, yet was so wary of. And when she caught Nenji strolling at the gardens, she immediately followed him and tried to speak to him.

"Are you scary?" she had asked, then wondering about why people didn't like being near him.

Nenji, annoyed that his walking meditation had been interrupted, answered. "Maybe. Do you think I am?"

"No, I think you're funny."

"Funny?!" He had sputtered, the insult caused him to sit down on a smoothened rock.

"Yes, and big, and old. Every one says that you're scary, but you're not - and that is funny. I really like funny things," she had answered, climbing on his lap, thus astonishing him. "Do you?"

"Get off me, child. I'm not a funny person, especially when I am upset." He had ordered, offended when she had called him old.

"You're also a liar, Jiya."

"What did you call me?"

"Jiya... old man." She smiled.

Nenji had then dropped her off him and had decided to leave her alone. "I'm not old."

Misao had stomped her foot and was tugging at his pants. "But you are, you ARE. You're my old man, and you'll be over a hundred years old! That's because you're my old man!"

'Jiya' had forcefully (yet not painfully) released his hakama from her grip. "Leave me alone, child - I'm not yours!"

This had caught Misao's interest more. For a whole week, she had followed him everywhere. Hannya had been at his wits' end trying to stop her from doing so. But she had ignored her doll, and she soon had to be dragged out of Nenji's study. A spanking from her father caused her to stay away from the office, but she had waited for him everyday. Nenji couldn't hide in his study forever (there were no windows), so he had to endure her jokes, stories and antics during afternoons and evenings. He had complained about her endlessly.

That was, until the accident.

"I, myself, had been scared by that incident." Hannya admitted at Aoshi's nod.

Misao was trying to impress 'Jiya' again by talking to him while he stood, sipping some tea in the garden. The man had his back to her, and was studiously trying not to react to her amusing recollections. She was swinging her legs while seated on the top sides of the water well.

And then, the tracking dogs held by an Oniwabanshuu ninja, confused by the new place and weary from a day's journey, suddenly escaped his grasp while they were passing through the gates. One went dashing toward the gardens, running furiously past the plants. Nenji had barely a second to look as the dog spotted Misao and snarled at her, giving her the most intimidating barks.

Misao, for her part, had been too scared. She might have loved puppies, but the dog that was before her was larger than her, and it was vigorously trying to bite off her small legs. So when she lifted them to avoid being bitten, she screamed as she lost her balance.

Nenji was frantically terrified when he saw Misao fall down the half-empty well. And before anyone knew it, the dog lay dead, abused by Nenji's nanchucks, while he was desperately looking for the girl that he feared had yet to learn how to swim inside the well.

Aoshi had recalled his shock and anger at failing to protect her. Everyone blamed themselves. Thankfully, Beshimi had already taught her how to float on her own. It was the darkness in the well and the pain in her head that had horrified her. The young Omasu was what it took to get her out of the well, she had balanced her way in, and had lifted Misao before any danger came to her.

Unfortunately, it was Misao's head that first hit some of the stones, followed by her right arm. There was a concussion and a fractured bone. Nenji had been there all through out the analysis of her injuries, threatening to beat the healer alive if she ended up dying. He had watched over the administering of her wounds, and had never left her ever since - to the irritation of the doctors. But Misao herself had said that she didn't want her Jiya to leave, so they left him to observe.

And everyone had heard the name she had given him. They also wondered at the attention Nenji had given her in return.

And everything changed after that.

"After Misao had recovered, Okina had never refused her charms again." Hannya concluded.

"Yes, and so began the prank wars. He was constantly trying to get revenge for the embarrassment her nickname had cost him. The others were so surprised, Nenji, one of the Okashira's best men, the silent monster - planting tricks everywhere. They discovered that the rumors about him were true." Aoshi thought about their reactions.

"More was the shock when we found out about his lecherous ways. Misao never should have asked him about having a wife." Hannya shook his head. And then he stood up, carrying Misao. But he hesitated and sat back down again, Aoshi eyed him as he caught Hannya staring at the girl again.

"She has also brought us many troubles... especially whenever her father comes home a few days late." Aoshi shook his head slightly at Hannya's continuation, remembering how she refused to eat. "There were times when we really had to pay a high price for her affections. There was when that important report was burned accidentally, and the Okashira was so upset. She'll take the lives out of us, I tell you."

"I accept that. Misao-chan will." Aoshi said, his tone dry.

He heard Hannya breathe deeply. "But despite all that, I would rather have my chest stabbed a hundred times rather than have her hit anywhere even for just a single time. Aoshi-sama, I would protect this girl with my life."

Aoshi approached them and lay a hand on Misao's shoulder. "I think I understand."

"Yes, I can't bear see her hurt, Aoshi-sama. And that... gives me a reason to come home here, to rest and to fight again. It somehow... empowers my will to live and defend everything.

"She has a personality that is unexplainable, but the way she has touched our lives and brought us closer... this child -- it's amazing. I've never experienced anything like it before. That's why I want so much to have her like this, sleeping in my arms innocently forever. I don't want her soul to be stained.

_______________________

"In your eyes, faint as the singing of a lark,

That somehow this black night,

Feels warmer for a spark.

Warmer for a spark.

To hold us till the day,

When fear will lose its grip,

And heaven has its ways."

_______________________

"I don't know," he sighed hesitantly. "Somehow, the way she welcomes me and calls me 'chan' makes this dark part of my life brighter. It reminds me of what I am fighting to protect. That which is in her smile, in her words, in the way she gets everyone on trouble. I really want to preserve that. It's too rare, too special. I'm going to experience her only once in my life, but I'll never forget her. She represents the world I want to live in, the kind of people I would love." His head bowed, "Do you understand her importance in my life, Aoshi-sama?"

Aoshi nodded silently, and when he spoke, his voice was just as sincere. "I do, and I have vowed to protect her as well. You see Hannya, her father showed me the heaven in her eyes."

______________________________

"Heaven knows

No frontiers.

And I've seen heaven in your eyes."

______________________________

The only thing that lit the sitting room was a small lamp, and everything was deathly quiet. Aoshi looked away when he heard the door slide open. Hannya froze from beside him.

Misao stood, walking slowly into the room, her eyes frighteningly hopeful. "Is Otou-chan home? Will he make it in time for my birthday next week?"

No one answered. The other people in the room were silent, while Omasu started weeping.

Misao worriedly turned to her, "What's wrong, Omasu-chan? You shouldn't cry, you should be happy. I'll be turning eight years old on Wednesday, and Otou-chan is coming home! He promised."

She then noticed the new people in the room. "Who are they?"

"They are onmitsu ninjas from Edo, Misao." Okina calmly explained.

"What are they doing here? And why are they all lined up beside you? Is there anything you're hiding behind you? Is it a surprise?" Misao asked, turning to jump. Beshimi shut his eyes, and Aoshi could barely make out a faint sparkle of tears welling from within.

"Misao," Okina began as he knelt before her, "Your Otou-chan's back."

"Really?" Misao squealed. "I can't wait to see him. I thought he would not reach my birthday! It has been a month already."

Okina took a deep sigh, "But Misao... he won't be here for your birthday."

Misao looked hurt. "Why? He's here, right? So why couldn't he..." she trailed off.

Okina couldn't answer.

Misao looked at the solemn faces before her. "What... what's wrong, Jiya?"

Okina choked. "Your father fought bravely two days ago, did you know that?"

Misao nodded slowly, growing anxious. "Otou-chan is always brave. He's the best father in the world," she said, repeating her most famous words.

From beside Okina, Omasu started to sob.

"What's wrong, Jiya?" Misao asked, her eyes widening with fear. "Why is everyone sad? Why isn't Otou-chan here?"

Then she looked behind Okina's shoulder.

From behind the line of fighters, there lay a man on the floor, his body carefully dressed, others parts wrapped in bandages. She then noticed the ruby ring on his hand. "Otou-chan?"

Okina trembled. "Yes."

Misao smiled. "Then why is he asleep? Is he tired from the big battle two days ago? Is he?"

Once again, nobody replied to her question.

Misao gasped worriedly, a thought wanting to spring on her mind. But she refused to accept it. She immediately ran to her father. "He must be tired from the journey. Quick, Jiya, let's take him to his room so that he could sleep well."

"Misao..."

She knelt before her father, and then she observed the large bandage on his lower-left abdomen. There was some blood in it. She shook her head, and tears started forming in her eyes. "Quick, Jiya, quick! We have to take care of his big wound so that he won't feel hurt. Right Otou-chan?"

When she did not get a reply, she slowly shook her father, "Right, Otou-chan?"

The body remained lifeless. She shook him harder, "Please, Otou-chan, answer Jiya so that we can help you. Please?"

There was still no answer.

She trembled, "Otou-chan, I know you're tired. But we have to heal you, Your clothes will get stained. Please? Please?"

Okina turned to place a hand on her shoulder. "Misao--"

"NO!" Misao screamed, pushing him away. "He promised, HE PROMISED! You have to believe in me, he never breaks his promises!" She smiled shakily, with wavering confidence, then placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him, "Wake up, Otou-chan, open your eyes! We still have to prepare for my party!"

Okina sighed, and tears threatened his eyes. "Misao-chan, he won't be... able to --"

"PLEASE, Otou-chan?" Her voice raised a notch as she placed another smile on her face, "Please?"

Furuha Makimachi did not move.

"Otou-chan, wake UP!" Misao shrieked as she held his face. "You can't leave me! Not when you promised. Please, Otou-chan... wake up."

The lamplight flickered.

"Wake up! Wake up..." she urged, her voice faltering. "Wake up for me Otou-chan, open your eyes."

And when nothing happened, her mouth fell open, and she slowly withdrew her hands as she stared at her father. She then turned hopeful eyes to them. "We must wait for him to wake up. We'll all watch here the whole night. Right?"

Okina watched helplessly. And Aoshi finally took it upon himself to tell her. "Misao-chan, your father couldn't stay. He'd been... hit on his side during the battle. We can't wake him up anymore. He has to go to heaven now."

He moved around the body and sat down with Misao. "We have to let--"

Misao shook her head as she faced him, her eyes pleading. "I thought he said heaven was in my eyes! He said that! That means he couldn't leave, not now, not ever. He's going to stay forever with me. He can't go, because I've got heaven in me, Aoshi-sama!"

She turned to her father, "You can't go, Otou-chan, please tell me you won't be leaving. See," she whispered uncontrollably, motioning to her face. "I've got heaven here, you don't have to leave..."

Someone from the ninjas announced, "It's time. We can't leave him here now, he'll fall apart." Okina knew they were mentioning Makimachi's body, so he nodded, hating every moment of it.

"No, you can't take him away!" Misao yelled as she grabbed on to her father, ignoring the faint smell that seeped to her nose. "He will stay! He will stay with me!"

The men looked on sympathetically, unaware of what they should do. Aoshi took a deep sigh as he slowly disentangled Misao from her father. "Misao, you have to let go, or your father's body will separate," he had to tell her when she wouldn't let go. She only shook her head and held on tighter.

"Aoshi," Okina said. He nodded, and quickly tore her grasp from her father. Misao yelped, kicked and screamed, but Aoshi held her to him and motioned to the others. They nodded dutifully and went to take him away.

"No! Where are they taking him?! Where! He's tired, can't they see?" Misao cried out while tears flowed in her eyes. "I have to be with him."

And they all watched with pained eyes when Misao grabbed on to her father's small finger, not wanting to release him. "Iie..."

Okina shook his head. "Misao, your father has to be buried to have proper death rites."

"Buried? They are going to put him underground? No, please don't make them do that, Jiya. Don't let them take my Otou-chan away from me, please Jiya! Please!" Misao pleaded as she frantically tried to free herself off Aoshi.

"I'm sorry, Misao."

But Misao kicked harder, "Aoshi-sama, please!"

Aoshi couldn't bring himself to look at her eyes.

"Then take me to him! He would get lonely underground! He'll be sad because it's so dark, just like the well. I have to be there to hug him and tell him that everything would be all right. Everybody, please! I'll sleep beside him too, anything -- just so he won't be alone down there!"

She saw the tears in their eyes. Even Hannya had them. She released her breath. "Anyone, onegai... onegai... I beg of you, please bury me too, don't let him leave me. I can't just leave him underground -- he needs me a lot, you see? He said so. So that we can be together, forever."

But the men shook their heads to each other, and then they moved away. Misao had to hold on to her Otou-chan's small finger. "No..."

And then it was yanked from her hand. "NO! NO, NO, NO!" she screeched.

Aoshi then hugged her with crushing force, "You have to let him go, Misao-chan."

"I can't... I can't..." the girl chanted.

And the night was filled with a child's sobs, whispering about broken promises, begging a soul that had permanently left to come back again. Cries of disbelief and misunderstanding ensued, and all of them weren't surprised when the lamp's light flickered out.

_____________________________

"Heaven in your eyes," Misao whispered, breaking off his reverie.

His glazed eyes turned back to her as she broke down. Tears started falling down her face, and she wiped them with the sleeve of her kimono. "So many promises broken, Umi-chan."

Aoshi averted his gaze, ashamed. He had forgotten, after all of those years -- he had forgotten his reason. The one that had supported him through all his fights, and the vow he had made that night.

When he left with Hannya and the others, and when they died, he broke his promise. That which he made to Makimachi-san, to Hannya, and to Misao. He had forgotten, and was blinded... and then everything he had done had lost their purpose.

Then he had lost his soul.

Maybe that was the significance of her image with Umi, it seeked to remind him about the answer to his questions.

All of those years... all of those lost opportunities, broken by his own crooked sense of revenge and power. He had thrown everything away, and now, he was plagued by the what he had done with his life.

He was still searching, four years later.

But through it all...

And all he had to do was look into her eyes.

His river-eyed chan's eyes...

'You don't know anymore. Or maybe you forgot... or you just didn't notice it.' Misao had said to him.

'Oh Kami, Misao, I'm so sorry.'

And he had found the answer to his questions.

In the woman standing before him, the one that had heaven in her eyes. The little spitfire who had now grown up. He found purpose in the image of her, holding Umi.

Misao's lower lip trembled. "All of them died, Umi-chan. Except for Aoshi-sama. He's all that I have left, Umi-chan. And it's like he's dead, too. That's because he had forgotten. He can't find what he wants anymore, and he doesn't want my help. Oh, how time changes everything, Umi! Otou-chan might say that he has lost his soul. But if he keeps his promise, he'll look for it. And he'll find it, I promise. He will find it in me."

"He'll find heaven in my eyes, just like before."

_______________________

It was a Monday, and she was supposed to be sleeping already, but she kept asking Aoshi some questions.

"Will you protect me, Aoshi-sama?"

"Yes, Misao-chan, yes."

"Will you teach me how to do kenpo just like you?"

"Yes, Misao-chan, when you grow older."

"Will I be a good person when I grow older?"

A sigh. "Yes, you will. I'll make sure of that."

"When I have problems, will you help me?"

"Of course, onna."

She urged. "When you have problems, will you come to me?"

A smile, "Yes, I will. You comfort me."

Later still, "Do you believe that I have heaven in my eyes, just like Otou-chan?"

A pause. "Yes, I do."

"Will you never forget that? Never ever?"

"I'll never forget, Misao-chan."

"One day, when you feel lost, will you look for heaven in me? It's very special, and I'm going to give it to you."

He hugged her, "Yes, yes, yes. Now Misao, go to sleep."

"But do you promise?"

He sighed, but gave a smile. "Promise."

_______________________

Umi moved his attention to the direction on Misao's left side. Wondering, Misao retracted herself from her memories and turned to see what was catching the baby's interest.

Then she saw Aoshi-sama, leaning by the copse of trees near her. He was looking so intently at her, she suddenly felt self-conscious. Why hadn't she known that he was there? 'Darn it, Misao. How careless could you get? What if the situation was different? I shouldn't have gotten so carried away by my emotions.'

"A, good evening, Aoshi-sama," she stumbled out, then she looked around for something nonexistent to avoid his gaze. "I- I didn't see you there. I'm sorry, I got... carried away. It was, eto, foolish." She then wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

"That's all right, Misao."

She froze at his answer, said so tightly, yet there was a different tone in his voice... almost-- affectionate. Enlightened, like there wasn't a problem in the world. So kind, a voice she had not heard for a very long time, yet there was a subtle difference.

Aoshi-sama approached her, and she finally got a good look at his face. He seemed revitalized, with his normally icy eyes now filled with warmth. The lines of sadness near his brow were gone, and there was actually a small smile on his face!

He walked slowly, and his posture was hesitant, yet there was this expression on his features -- like a man granted a second chance. He was... glowing.

He then finally stood before her. "May I hold him, Misao?"

She blinked, startled. Then she remembered that she was holding Umi. "Sure, Aoshi-sama." She looked at the child, remembering all her ponderings earlier, some painful, some filled with joy. Then something suddenly hit her. No--

"How long have you been there? Did you--" She could not bring herself to finish as Aoshi took the baby from her arms and held Umi himself. He glanced at her, "I heard you sing, Misao. And you're right, he has eyes that are like the mountains."

Misao turned red, suddenly filled with humiliation. He had heard her! Everything? Oh, he must think her an idiot, talking to a baby! And... if he had taken note of her words... She took a deep breath, Kami, he must be upset.

But when she turned to look at him, his face was inscrutable. He was staring at baby with wonder and fondness in his eyes. It was Umi's eyes that he was staring at, and he stood silent as he gave his own small finger to the child. He really didn't look angry or insulted.

"I'm not upset, Misao. Now, was the song finished?" He had an amused, yet delicately pleased look on his face.

She gasped, but then grinned sheepishly. "It wasn't, Aoshi-sama. But if you heard something that could have, well..."

"No, Misao. If anything, it made me realize a few things. Go on." Aoshi urged. "He's falling asleep, but he wants you to finish the melody."

Misao eyes softened, remembering the baby. "Well..." then she stiffened, remembering the next lyrics to the song. "Are you sure?"

Aoshi turned his eyes to her, "I am. It's a beautiful tune, but you never really sang it to us before."

Misao took in a deep breath as she remembered who 'us' was. "I miss them."

Aoshi nodded, but he didn't answer. He had a thoughtful, longing look surfacing in his eyes. And then his eyes met her, "I presume they would have wanted to hear it."

Misao, though still surprised by the amazing tenderness he was displaying, nodded. She then neared them and placed a hand on Umi's arm, 'Aoshi-sama, I hope that you would remember.' Then she started again, though a little more shyly and hesitantly than before.

"If your life is a rough bed

of brambles and nails.

And your spirit's a slave

to man's whips and man's jails

Where you thirst and you hunger

for justice and right,

And your heart is a pure flame

of man's constant night,"

She paused as she felt Aoshi-sama's eyes on her, but she welcomed the feeling and stared at the moon, then raised her arms to her chest. Meanwhile, Aoshi was struck by the words that she had just sung, as if the song was actually made for him, where the words caressed him vibrated with his life's events.

"In your eyes, faint as the singing of a lark

That somehow this black night,

Feels warmer for the spark,

Warmer for the spark.

To hold us till the day

When fear will lose its grip

And heaven has it's ways."

Aoshi stared at the woman who was singing for the child in front of him, and watched the gentle curve of her chin, and the soft sparkle of fond memories on her smile. Then there was the way she held her hands, and how her voice sang with her heart.

And in her, he remembered the very first infant he had ever held.

In her, he saw the child who had conquered Hannya's shame, Okina's uneasiness, Beshimi's serious nature, Hyottoko's wariness, and Shikijo's stubborn pride. He saw the girl who had bonded with them all together, and the 'river-eyed' chan who gave them all sorts of troubles, names, and affection.

In her, he saw the woman who had welcomed him back home despite the corruption of his mind and the mistakes that he had done. He remembered the girl who tried to make this place a home for him, who had placed all his weaknesses aside and had given ultimate concern for him. He saw the only person who visited him everyday and talked to him easily.

In her, he saw all of his companions' hopes and dreams. He saw the future.

In her, he recalled the girl he had given his life to protect. The girl he had watched mature all these years. And now, he saw the woman who had offered to share his burden, the one who had captured his heart and gave meaning to him all over again. It was the person he had loved all of his life.

In her, he saw the purpose in his life, the answer to all of his questions. He saw his heart and his happiness.

In her, he saw Heaven.

And Misao faced him completely, and their eyes met. "And heaven has its ways.

"And all will harmonize,

And you know what's in our hearts

The dream we'll realize

Heaven knows no frontiers,

And I've seen heaven in your eyes.

Heaven knows... no frontiers

And --"

"I've seen heaven in your eyes," he whispered for her.

And their eyes met again, and they stood still, staring at each other in the stillness of the garden. There was no wind, no sound, no sky... just their eyes. And then a thousand words passed in the silence.

The search was over. In this girl, his soul had been reclaimed. There was no need, no need to suffer anymore. All he had to do to redeem himself was to look into her eyes. "Arigato, Misao."

What was happiness?

Happiness was heaven.

"It's all right, always. But you made a promise before, Aoshi-sama. You said you would find it in me... please, don't leave me like the others did. It was never your fault, we never blamed you for that.

"Don't ever leave me again. I've seen heaven in your eyes, too Aoshi-sama."

He nodded. "Never," he swore.

Her eyes watered. "But do your promise?"

He smiled finally, a really happy and genuine smile, "I promise."

~~~

Omasu walked down the porch to the east garden, "Where are those two? It's Umi's sleeping time already," she murmured to herself. He'd give them a hard time with his fussing if he didn't sleep on time.

"Mis-- Oh," she hushed herself.

There in the garden, bathed in the moonlight, was a tableau of love, of kisses filled with promises, of tears that spoke of lost years, of hands seeking to reclaim, of voices that whispered of love all over again, assuring themselves that it was real.

Omasu's eyes watered. "It's about time," she whispered to herself.

And in the middle of it all, held in the arms of both persons, was her son, not at all fussing. Instead, he was smiling. How nice, the sea in the midst of Heaven, she thought. Maybe it wouldn't be a good time to take Umi now.

Shaking her head, she smiled and returned to the dining room. And when she arrived at the room, she announced with a grin "Hey guys, who would want to make a bet with me about a wedding date? Or maybe if our son would grow up to be a GOOD matchmaker or not?"

At everyone's knowing looks, she nodded, "I think he's discovered his home now. He's finally found his heaven."

Fin.

Notes

I'd just like to thank all of those who have read and reviewed this story. To those who have reviewed and emailed, thank you, thank you very much. I might not have been able to reply to some due to email problems but you are now welcome to send your comments at my new addy: abstractress@yahoo.com

Aside from this, I would like to acknowledge Tin Mandigma for writing her wonderful story, 'Of Love and Honour,' which, thus, inspired me to write this piece.

Thank you also to the Yahoo! Group I lurked on all those years: The Aoshi-Misao Fic Group by Maria Vu and Co. Go there for your taste of Aoshi-Misao (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/aoshimisaofics/)

Lastly, I would like to invite everyone to visit my website for more fanfics:

http://storybox.virtualave.net

Come one and come all!

Any good AM fics? Lemme read 'em.

Thanks!

Annabelle