Later, back at the Aoiya…

The second they returned home, Aoshi had disappeared into his private study. He was in a foul mood and had no desire to see any one. The day had not gone according to plans. No, it had not gone right at all.

The day played out in his head as he sat hunched over his desk. It had begun okay…he got up, went to the shrine to meditate, same as always. Misao woke up about an hour later and came clamoring down the stairs. Same as always. She's said good morning and it was all downhill from there. He hadn't been able to tell her happy birthday or even good morning. For whatever reason, he became quite tongue tied when it concerned Misao.

She had given him a frosty look at his lack of greeting. This, he had thought, does not bode well…Then she wanted to get herself drunk. Honestly, did she believe that sort of behavior was acceptable? It didn't matter if it was her birthday, her wedding day, a million years from then; he never ever wanted to see her drunk.

After that, or rather, during that, the boy had shown up. Jishin, that was his name. He'd come breezing in and done the things Aoshi couldn't. He'd given her a gift, told her she was beautiful and he loved her, all as if it was nothing. Then the worst part -Misao didn't reject him. He had been expecting a "Sorry, Kid, but I love Aoshi-sama." But -what was it she'd said? Oh, that's right…"I'll have to get back to you on that one."

He'd had plans. Plans that didn't involve the rest of the Oniwabanshu, just Misao and himself. He wanted to tell her -among other things- he was sorry for all the grief he put her through two years beforehand. And he did have a present for her, but -he sighed- it was too late for that. It didn't matter any more.

He withdrew a small, neatly wrapped gift from his pocket and studied it. She would have loved the contents of that box and he knew it. However, it was too late and it was his own stupid fault. He didn't need it anymore. He yanked one of the desk drawers open and carefully stashed the present inside. It would have to wait until another day…

How had things turned out so badly? What had gone wrong? Everything is my fault. She wanted to have a nice birthday and I ruined it. He ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it from his icy blue eyes. I'm sure she'll be very happy with that handsome -not to mention rich- kid. Unlike me, he was perfectly capable of telling her he loved her and she needs to hear that. I blew it. Big time.

"Um, Aoshi-sama?" Misao's voice broke his thoughts and he looked up.

She looked so upset! I'm sorry, Misao…But his voice betrayed his thoughts. "What is it?"

"About before…" She closed the door and stood before it, unsure if she should venture any farther into the room.

"What about it? There's nothing to discuss."

"I don't love him." Her voice sounded guarded, as if she was wary of what his response would be.

He stared at her, knowing if he said nothing she would continue of her own accord. He'd had enough discussions, debates and arguments with the young woman to know this for a fact. She would go on.

But, she let him down. She just stared evenly back at him, her cerulean eyes never leaving his face. She had not said anything. It was up to him to continue the conversation. After a long pause, he finally spoke the first thing that came to mind. "It is of no concern to me whom you do or do not love, Misao."

A frown crossed her face. "You don't care? You don't care??" Her voice rose, growing shrill with anger, "You should care!" She exclaimed, "I thought maybe now you'd understand that what I feel for you is not just childish fantasy! I thought you cared about me!" She was quivering with rage, her face turning purple, "I was wrong!" She jerked the door back open, "You don't care about any one or anything but yourself. I hate you, Aoshi!"

He was half way out of his seat when the door slammed behind her. Trembling, he sank back into the chair. Had he heard right? Had she called him Aoshi without the "-sama" ? It took a moment for what had just happened to filter through his brain. She was angry.

Very angry.

Misao went thumping up the stairs, tears streaming down her face. She flopped down on her bed, her face buried in her pillow. He didn't care. He didn't care! Noisy sobs escaped her; her tears soaked the feather pillow.

She rolled over on her back, trying to catch her breath. Her arms were wrapped around the pillow, holding it tightly to her chest. Some birthday that had been. The worst yet, even more so then all the times he'd been gone and she'd waited by the door, hoping that -through some small miracle- he would come strolling up and tell her happy birthday.

He didn't love her. She was a fool to think he would. She would always be nothing more to him than a little sister. She was forever a child in his eyes. She hadn't expected a proposal or anything, but something would have been nice; something that showed he cared about her.

Aoshi-sama, I love you. When are you going to realize it? She stared at the ceiling, tears trickling down her cheeks. I understand you. I'm the only one who does. I don't want you to be Aoshi-sama forever. I want you to be Aoshi-chan…

Everything I've done for the past eighteen years has been for you. I want you to be proud of me. I want to be some one you would be glad to introduce to people. "This is Misao…my wife. She's a wonderful woman and she learned everything she knows from me…I'm very proud of her." Why can't you love me? What have I done wrong?

Aoshi, meanwhile, was in his own private hell. Misao never called him plain Aoshi. But then, he'd never done anything so cruel as that before. She'd run off and he hadn't chased after her. He wanted to, but he'd been frozen in the spot, his mind reeling from the blow she'd dealt.

I hate you, Aoshi! I hate you…He rested his head on his hands, the oak desktop cool beneath his fingertips. I hate you…Her voice echoed through his mind, rattling around in there, cruel, angry and wounded. That had been brutal, hearing her say she hated him. He had never thought she was capable of saying such words. I hate you…

Oh, the agony! The suffering he was to undergo. This would not just blow over, yet he wasn't quite sure how to straighten it out. The former leader of the Oniwabanshu understood many things; unfortunately, the mind of a woman was not one of them. He still wasn't even sure what exactly Misao was so upset about.

This was all too much for him. Watching Misao for the past two years, he'd begun to feel more for her than he once had. A week before, while wandering aimlessly through the market, his eyes had come to rest on the perfect birthday gift for his charming little weasel.

The vendor had been adamant in selling it to him, saying it was the perfect gift to give his sweetheart. Aoshi had scoffed at the notion of love at first, then he got to thinking. He'd been seeing Misao in a different light since the whole situation with Shishio two years prior. Was what he felt for her love? Yes, he decided right then, he did love her. Perhaps not in the way she loved him -not yet at least- but it was a start.

So he'd purchased the item. The vendor had wrapped it in tissue paper, placing it gently in a box. It was packaged in brown paper, tied with an azure silk ribbon. This gift was a treasure to him and he knew Misao would be thrilled to receive it. He had been excited as he anticipated her reaction to receiving it -although his excitement was not something he let show- and it had been hard for him to contain his smile over the past week.

Now the carefully chosen gift sat useless in a drawer.

Wearily, he rose to his feet. He would nurse his wounded pride the following morning. He was too tired then to deal with the situation. He shuffled heavily out of the room, locking the door behind him. He knew in his heart that this would only get worse before it got better.

Much worse.