Aoshi slept late the next morning. He was usually up at the crack of dawn, but he had tossed and turned the entire night, thoughts of Misao, their arguing, and Jishin flooding his stream of consciousness. He had a headache when he awoke from a light, fitful sleep.

Autumn sunlight streamed through the window. Aoshi pulled the covers up over his head. Was it possible to have a hangover if you hadn't even been drunk? Intoxication would have been better than this. At least then he would have an excuse for his stupidity.

There would be no meditating that morning; his thoughts were in turmoil and his mind was nowhere near clear enough to concentrate on anything. He lay there for a moment longer, trying to sort out his thoughts. He went over the facts in his head. Misao was eighteen. By every one's standards, she was no longer a child. Jishin, son of one of Kyoto's wealthiest men, had confessed to loving her. Jishin had a desire to -as he had put it- "court her." Misao had not said no. They had fought. She now hated him.

Ugh.

Twelve hours after it had happened, the situation did not seem any better.

What made that kid so special to Misao that she would even consider pursuing him? Was it because he was rich? Misao had always been rather ambitious and the Aoiya's income was not exactly that of a millionaire. Was it because he was handsome? Did she prefer Jishin's brown hair over Aoshi's dark tresses? Would she rather spend evenings gazing into those emerald eyes rather than his own ice blue ones? He had always thought Misao liked his eyes. They were the only part of him that ever showed the slightest emotion. Was it because Jishin could say the things that he could not? She was the kind of girl that needed to be told -and told often- that she was loved. She thrived on praise.

What was it? What was it? That question bombarded the man as he lay there, huddled under the blankets. He was quite miserable and his pride had been sufficiently damaged. She'd always been his little Misao, his weasel girl, and he her Aoshi-sama. But she didn't like him any more. She wanted that other man -that scrawny runt.

Then a thought crossed his mind. Maybe Misao didn't want an old, washed out ninja. He was ten years older than she was. Maybe she wanted a man closer to her own age. A man like Jishin.

Sighing, he sat up. He had to go downstairs and act as if it was just like any other day, or they would all know something was wrong. It was a terrible day. And things would keep on getting worse until he and Misao resolved their differences.

Stepping silently down the stairs, Aoshi was aware of voices in the front hall. Misao, giggling slightly, and Jishin, speaking to her, his voice smooth with experience. He peered around the corner.

Jishin was handing a box of chocolate to Misao. Trying to bribe her with Western novelties, was he? Did he seriously think he could win her over with candy? Although…Aoshi watched as she accepted the box and opened it, peering inside. "Ooo…" He heard her squeal breathlessly, "I've never had a whole box of chocolates to myself!"

He felt his heart sinking within his chest. This was not looking well. Not well at all.

"Well, you deserve it." He smiled brazenly, his hand brushing against hers. Jishin was pleased with how well things were going. He had wondered more than a few times if she was infatuated with the icy man she often wandered around with, but she seemed very pleased by the attention he was bestowing upon her. "Now, I told you yesterday that I intended to begin courting you. So I was wondering, would you care to join me for dinner this evening? My father has a cook from France and you'll be able to sample the best the West has to offer."

Misao's heart was pounding wildly. A dinner invitation?! And Western food, no less. What could she say? For a fleeting moment, this thought crossed her mind: Aoshi-sama certainly won't approve. Then she remembered how angry she was at him. He'd hurt her feelings by ignoring her and she wasn't going to give the satisfaction of letting him know it.

Then a wicked notion crossed her mind, a thought that was as devious as they come. If he really cared about her -and she suspected he did- he would become insanely jealous if it looked like she was having a good time with Jishin.

Putting on her cutest smile, she looked up at her old friend. "Of course I'd love to have dinner with you."

Aoshi froze when he heard that. Misao might as well have ripped out his heart and stomped on it right there. He felt about as bad as is she had. She didn't seem affected at all by the huge fight from the night before. Maybe she really did hate him. He had thought they would both be miserable and they would quickly work things out -as they often did after their frequent arguments- but it didn't look that way. She wasn't upset at all.

His anger and jealousy were quickly consuming him. He hadn't allowed so many emotions to enter his brain at one time since Kenshin had fought him the first time. However, this was completely different. He had been beyond angry after that. He was now overcome with grief.

He stormed past Misao and Jishin on his way out of the Aoiya. He was so confused; he didn't notice Misao staring after him. He thought that perhaps the cool autumn air would help him clear his thoughts and he would be able to make better sense of things.

Aoshi-sama…Misao's gaze followed her beloved former-leader as he swept out the door. Was he that jealous already? He hadn't even looked at her on his way by. That was unusual. While he wouldn't have normally said anything, he would have at least nodded a greeting. She was a little perturbed by this. She thought it would take longer for him to be affected by this. Aoshi-sama, I'm sorry….A sly smile crossed her face, But this is the only way…

Later that evening, Misao could be found pacing the front room nervously. She was adorned in her best kimono and obi, her hair down long and wavy. A necklace of her late mother's -a small sapphire set in a silver hummingbird charm- dangled around her neck. Every now and then, she would stop moving and pull her socks up. She was anxious and fidgety, unsure how the evening would play out.

"Why are you doing this, Misao?" Okina asked her. He'd been watching her walk back and forth for nearly half an hour and he wondered just why she was tormenting herself so.

"Why shouldn't I, Gramps? What is there to stop me?" Her voice was an octave higher than usual, a sure sign that she was stressed over the situation.

"You love Aoshi." He reminded her gently.

She turned her back to him, her head held high. "I do not love Aoshi-sama. I could care less about him." She stated firmly, her arms folded across her chest. "He's selfish and uncaring and thoughtless."

Poor girl…Her words betrayed her unconcerned attitude. Old Okina could easily detect how hurt she was. The very fact that she still referred to him as "sama" contradicted her saying she didn't care about him at all. She was so deeply in love with him…They would both be hurt if they didn't stop acting so immature.

Jishin returned for Misao precisely at six-thirty that evening. He came in his father's carriage, drawn by a black horse. The girl had herself rather worked up at that point. She was very nervous and troubled over the whole thing.

When he knocked on the door, she nearly chickened out. "Tell him I'm not here!" She hissed to Okina, "Tell him I'm sick. Something, anything! I don't think I can do this!"

"You said you would go. It would be rude to back out now. You'll just have to deal with him…Unless you're afraid." He added casually.

"I'm afraid of no man!" She declared. Then she marched over to the door and opened it to find Jishin there holding a bunch of daisies.

Okina smiled. That was more like the Misao he was used to. He understood what she was doing. She subscribed to the belief that with a little revenge, anything could pass. He just hoped Aoshi wouldn't crack under the pressure.

Her heart was thudding so loud within her chest she was afraid Jishin would hear it. Her palms were sweaty and her mouth dry. This was the first time she'd even looked at another man in her life and she was terrified.

They were alone together in that little carriage. The sun had already set and it was shadowy inside the coach. What was that? Had he touched her knee or was she imagining things? She edged over to the side of the carriage, as far away from him as possible. This is all wrong! She felt like she was doing something terrible, as if she was betraying her Aoshi-sama. He would be so upset with her. Then she relaxed slightly. You have no reason to care what he thinks. She reminded herself sternly. He messed things up himself this time. I deserve better than what he gives me.

But you love him! Her brain screamed. You love him…You always have. Her eyes welled with tears and she was glad it was so dark in the carriage. What are you doing, Misao? Why torment yourself like this? Tell him how much you love him and be serious about it…Maybe…Maybe then…

She shook her head, wiping her eyes. It's too late for that! She looked back over at Jishin, peering at him through the shadows. "What are we having for dinner, Ji-chan?"

"Pâté."

Misao blinked. What the hell was pâté? "Um, what's that?"

He sighed. She was so naïve and uncultured. "It's goose liver."

"Goose liver." She repeated. That sounded so gross. She wrinkled up her nose. "…What else?"

"Escargot. And so you don't need to ask, that's snails. Cornish Game Hen -you'll probably like that- and chocolate mousse for dessert."

She nodded, processing this information. Cornish Game Hen…that meant chicken. That would be safe. And chocolate mousse sounded intriguing. She'd never had much Western food before. If he wanted to serve her all kinds of weird goop, she was game.

Meanwhile, Aoshi was wandering aimlessly down the street. Being outside had certainly not helped clear his mind. He still had no clue how to settle the issue with Misao and that was not good. The longer this went on, the more hurt they would both be in the end. He knew this. He didn't like this thought. The more he thought about it, the more upset he became.

Open your eyes, Aoshi…Misao's not the same kid she was two years ago. She's not even a kid any more. How have I been so blind? How could I have spent the last eighteen years with her and hardly know a thing about her? What kind of man am I? A sinking feeling filled the pit of his stomach. Oh Misao…I'm such an idiot! I'm going to lose you because I was too foolish to realize all of this a long time ago.

For the first time in his life, he was afraid.

Each lost in their own thoughts, neither realized that they had passed the other. Had Aoshi been more aware of his surroundings, he would have noticed the carriage bearing the Kanemochi family crest as it rumbled past him. And if Misao were still gazing out the small window, she might have noticed the shadowy figure of her beloved Aoshi-sama on the street. Yet they passed, undetected, like ships in the night.