Katsu was painting. The injuries he had gotten at the hand of Kijou's bully-boys were still healing, and it hurt to move much, so there really wasn't much else he could do. At least painting hadn't been deemed "too stressful" for someone in his "condition."

Katsu understood perfectly why Sano and Takani-san were treating him like he was made of glass, but that didn't mean he had to appreciate it.

The door opened and closed, but so softly Katsu could barely be sure that he had heard anything at all. That meant it was Aoshi, then. Still painting, Katsu waited to see if the ex-ninja would make his presence known, or if he would go about his business trying to not disturb him. Probably the latter, if, as Katsu guessed, Aoshi didn't know Katsu knew he was there.

Aoshi wasn't as oppressive about his coddling as Sano was, so Katsu didn't mind it as much.

There was however, the matter of the faint squelching sound Aoshi made with every step. This did not seem to be something that could be ignored. He spoke, though he didn't turn or stop painting.

"What on earth happened to you?"

"Misao and Yahiko were being rather rambunctious." If Aoshi was surprised, he gave no notice of it. "Himura was doing laundry, and . . ."

Katsu chuckled, and wiped some paint off of his brush. "Say no more."

Aoshi didn't, but there were rustling sounds behind him – Aoshi getting dry clothes, most likely, and changing into them. Katsu had to bite his lip to remind himself not to turn and look. Eventually, the noises ended, but the door did not open again, and Katsu realized that Aoshi was staying in the room.

"What are you doing?" He asked, again without turning from the painting – not that he was concentrating very hard on what he was painting. It looked like it was going to be a painting of a rather large cat, which was fine.

"Watching you paint. I will leave, if it disturbs you."

Katsu heard Aoshi get up, presumably to leave, and quickly spoke.

"It is no trouble. Stay, if you wish." Aoshi sat back down again, and, after awhile, Katsu spoke. "I hate people."

"Wha—" Aoshi began, confused, but Katsu continued on relentlessly.

"I hate people. I'm terrible at social situations – the most polite term I've heard is "a complete boor." I can't cook anything other than plain rice. I have to know where everything I own is. I spend weeks at a time where I do nothing but investigate for my paper, breathe, eat, and sleep, in that order of importance. I get extremely sarcastic when I'm angry. I'm miserable company when I'm bored. I hate getting up early. I'm just a little homeless. I –"

"Katsu." Aoshi's voice was calm, and tinged with humor, and Katsu stopped mid-tirade. He still didn't turn to Aoshi though, keeping his eyes focused strictly ahead of him. "I am not a social man. I like plain rice. I keep a neat room. When the Oniwabanshuu was still active, I was away for months sometimes. I do not offend or get angry easily. I am a quiet riser. And," Katsu wasn't looking, and couldn't see, but he could definitely hear the faint smile in Aoshi's voice. "I am an innkeeper. There are always extra rooms . . . if you do not object, that is."

Aoshi's tone trailed off to where it could be called almost hesitant, and Katsu closed his eyes, savoring the implications of what had just been said.

Then he looked away from the painting.

At Aoshi.

For a long time, they merely looked at each other, green eyes and blue locked. When it finally happened, it wasn't exactly clear who moved first, or if they both moved at the same time, but they would have been hard-pressed to care as their lips met.

It wasn't a passionate kiss, and it definitely wasn't a brotherly kiss, and it wasn't an overly gentle kiss, but it was a very nice kiss. Aoshi's lips were warm and firm against Katsu's slightly chapped ones, and if there wasn't that much tongue involved, neither missed it. Katsu broke it, or perhaps Aoshi did, or perhaps they separated at the same time, but that didn't really matter either. The gaze shared between them was different now, and not just for being made from half-lidded eyes and a fraction of the distance.

Fifteen seconds and fifty years later, Katsu's solemn expression broke to reveal a languid smile, which was soon returned by Aoshi. He reached a hand up behind Aoshi's neck, and pulled the tall man's head down to rest their foreheads together. The silence was sacred, and neither dared profane it with words. Eventually, Katsu released Aoshi, but it was still a few moments before they moved apart. Aoshi smiled, and brushed his hand against Katsu's cheek – a caress Katsu turned into, pressing his lips to the fleshy mound of skin beneath Aoshi's thumb.

Then, all this completed, and with one last smile, Katsu turned back to painting, and Aoshi, to watching him paint.

Right. Well, if that wasn't the sappiest freaking ending ever . . . well, at least Kijou died in the best way ever. Okay, look for the sequel, that I will start cranking out as soon as I can come up with some sort of plot other than "Saitou and Sano realize they are madly in love, and fuck each other until their balls fall off." Look for it -- I don't know what the title will be, but it will probably be the next RK fic I put on Well, the next one after this other one that I am also putting up right now. :D

PEOPLE. IF YOU WISH ME TO RESPOND TO YOUR REVIEW (and I will be more than happy to do so) THEN LEAVE AN EMAIL ADDRESS.

Faery: 211 is a good number. But 213 is better. But 212 is the best. And that was you. ::so many kisses:: So much love for the Faery. So so so so much love. :D

blah: So many hugs for one of my most dedicated reviewers. :D And I look forward to your take on the future fics I will put up. :D