Disclaimer: yeah, yeah, yeah. Blah, blah, blah. I don't own the rights to
ANYTHING like my dear Aoshi-sama or the spunky little Misao-chan. No,
Nobuhiro Watsuki owns them and many other respected business-types. If ya
like, want to comment, then by all means, please REVIEW!
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Tears of Buddha
Chapter 4: Perfection
By Starhopper
Pressing her lashes closed, Misao let the tears filter through and trickle down the sides of her face. It had taken so long, so long for him to realize it and now here it was. She created a morning for him to wake to . . . watching over him like the angel she surely was. Feeling her heart skip with every word, Misao shook her head and bit her lip. If this was a dream, she should wake now to save herself from a nightmare. This was just too cruel. Yet, it wasn't a dream, for when she opened her eyes, she was still curled at his side, his arm lightly grazing her back in an embrace that she knew he feared.
Here was the confession she'd waited eighteen years for. It was lying on the floor with her, drained of all emotional strength, tearing at her heart that had turned so brittle with every shrug of indifference, every monotonous conversation, every bat of his motionless, frozen, eyes.
Which were now slowly melting at the corners. Or was that the rain?
"Aoshi-sama," She began in sincerity, "It isn't a question of why . . . that's a question that only you can answer,"
He sighed, turning his attention back to the ceiling and the violet-black thunderheads pacing like hungry tigers above it. "But I'm lost,"
She smiled, the sparkle of her tears catching the storm's violent outbreaks. "Then let me find you," placing a hand at the center of his chest, she brought herself to lean on her elbow. "You know I will if you let me,"
He almost smiled as she rested her cheek at the base of his throat. "I've never had to 'let' you do anything before Misao-chan,"
Catching the only opportunity allowed to her other than loosening the obi and showing how anatomically mature she was, Misao murmured, "That was when I was young. But I'm not a child anymore Aoshi-sama, I'm a woman,"
"A fact that both logic and myself can not deny," he replied wistfully to the ceiling, "And that is what makes my mind ever more clouded,"
"Clouded?" Was he lost in this haze because of her? Is that the reason she could not, no was not allowed to find him? Misao lifted her head from the damp skin where the water had collected as it drained off his face. She strove to catch his eye, hoping that in this position of defenselessness he would not leap from the floor and attentively stand over her, treating her as the child he envisioned. Maybe if their gazes locked, then she would know for certain. Did he hate her despite the fact that she did everything to make him love her?
His head shook slowly, as if trying to outrun those determined little eyes that were hunting him. But as she rested her body on his, placing both palms on his chest, they ran straight for her.
"Misao," he breathed her name again, and she could feel the tremors ripple through his body, causing her own to tremble. His eyes widened in an uncertain fear that she'd never seen before. Well, at least on him. "You're so innocent, and I'm so,"
She brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Lost. I know."
"No," she sunk as his lungs deflated, "I'm falling," he winced, "I mean, I've fallen, I'm a lost cause."
Letting her palm slide down the side of his face, she came to his chin and carefully caught it between her forefinger and thumb. "You shouldn't be, I caught you." She rubbed the area beneath his bottom lip with her thumb. "I've found you too,"
The corners of his mouth twitched in uncertainty. Hearing the gears turn in his head, Misao could gauge that he was fighting with himself to smile or not to smile.
"My Aoshi-sama, don't fight it; you've fought hard enough in your lifetime. Just let it come, as easily as your confession did."
Melted ice splashed over the edges of his sockets as Aoshi smiled, a small tugging at the lips that spoke volumes of how grateful he was to have her with him, at the pinnacle of his inner-conflict.
Mirroring him perfectly, Misao whispered, "Here you are," and pressed smile to smile.
She closed her eyes and lost herself in the senses. He smelled wet, but masculine, the added incense from the temple that permeated the yukata proving to be very aromatic when added with water. His heart had started to thrum just a little faster beneath her right palm when she had initiated the kiss, but now that both pairs of lips had begun to relax against each other, it was practically leaping out of his chest. And his lips, those that had turned tight when on missions, and full when bowed in meditation were now soft and slightly herbal to taste, like the tea he ceremonially drank. The tea she carried to him every midmoring, now sitting cold on the floor of his darkened room.
A crack of lightning flashed over her lids, brought her out of her haze, and back into the arms of her Aoshi-sama.
With a raise of her head, she broke the kiss. But as she rose, so did a hand to pull her head back down, as well as another at the small of her back to ensure that she wouldn't fly away at the slightest opportunity. Arching her spine to mold the touch, she settled into his awkward embrace, the world turning over as she felt herself being rolled onto her back, the shower of kisses falling over her mouth like sakura blossoms.
If this was a dream, let her never wake up.
"Misao?" the whisper was soft, vaguely sedated, and layered over the rumbling of distant thunder.
Her heart groaned and she reached out to pull the heat back to her, blindly searching in the darkness for the heavy fabric to twist in her hands. No, now she would have to face her empty room and ruined kimono. He had never come for her, never told her all that she hoped he felt, never kissed her. And worst of all, she would wake to find Aoshi guarded and stony, a face of granite that would never weather under any emotion. It could never crack under her words and cry the tears that had dripped onto her skin.
But if this was a dream ended, it was only because of a survival instinct that foretold her ultimate death if she didn't wake up. She was nearly frozen after her walk in the storm. Her heart could continue to be wound about this vision forever, while her soul unfurled its wings and flew up to the great beyond.
She wouldn't die that easy. Her eyes shot open to be met by his, two blue stars shining through the darkness, intently shining down at her.
"Yes?" she was surprised at how frail her answer sounded, but couldn't counter herself with his his eyes piercing through her own.
"I don't want to hurt you,"
Hurt her? For the past two and a half years he had plucked the notes of her undying love for him with painful disinterest. Narrowing her eyes up at his, she practically growled, "Then don't stop."
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Tears of Buddha
Chapter 4: Perfection
By Starhopper
Pressing her lashes closed, Misao let the tears filter through and trickle down the sides of her face. It had taken so long, so long for him to realize it and now here it was. She created a morning for him to wake to . . . watching over him like the angel she surely was. Feeling her heart skip with every word, Misao shook her head and bit her lip. If this was a dream, she should wake now to save herself from a nightmare. This was just too cruel. Yet, it wasn't a dream, for when she opened her eyes, she was still curled at his side, his arm lightly grazing her back in an embrace that she knew he feared.
Here was the confession she'd waited eighteen years for. It was lying on the floor with her, drained of all emotional strength, tearing at her heart that had turned so brittle with every shrug of indifference, every monotonous conversation, every bat of his motionless, frozen, eyes.
Which were now slowly melting at the corners. Or was that the rain?
"Aoshi-sama," She began in sincerity, "It isn't a question of why . . . that's a question that only you can answer,"
He sighed, turning his attention back to the ceiling and the violet-black thunderheads pacing like hungry tigers above it. "But I'm lost,"
She smiled, the sparkle of her tears catching the storm's violent outbreaks. "Then let me find you," placing a hand at the center of his chest, she brought herself to lean on her elbow. "You know I will if you let me,"
He almost smiled as she rested her cheek at the base of his throat. "I've never had to 'let' you do anything before Misao-chan,"
Catching the only opportunity allowed to her other than loosening the obi and showing how anatomically mature she was, Misao murmured, "That was when I was young. But I'm not a child anymore Aoshi-sama, I'm a woman,"
"A fact that both logic and myself can not deny," he replied wistfully to the ceiling, "And that is what makes my mind ever more clouded,"
"Clouded?" Was he lost in this haze because of her? Is that the reason she could not, no was not allowed to find him? Misao lifted her head from the damp skin where the water had collected as it drained off his face. She strove to catch his eye, hoping that in this position of defenselessness he would not leap from the floor and attentively stand over her, treating her as the child he envisioned. Maybe if their gazes locked, then she would know for certain. Did he hate her despite the fact that she did everything to make him love her?
His head shook slowly, as if trying to outrun those determined little eyes that were hunting him. But as she rested her body on his, placing both palms on his chest, they ran straight for her.
"Misao," he breathed her name again, and she could feel the tremors ripple through his body, causing her own to tremble. His eyes widened in an uncertain fear that she'd never seen before. Well, at least on him. "You're so innocent, and I'm so,"
She brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Lost. I know."
"No," she sunk as his lungs deflated, "I'm falling," he winced, "I mean, I've fallen, I'm a lost cause."
Letting her palm slide down the side of his face, she came to his chin and carefully caught it between her forefinger and thumb. "You shouldn't be, I caught you." She rubbed the area beneath his bottom lip with her thumb. "I've found you too,"
The corners of his mouth twitched in uncertainty. Hearing the gears turn in his head, Misao could gauge that he was fighting with himself to smile or not to smile.
"My Aoshi-sama, don't fight it; you've fought hard enough in your lifetime. Just let it come, as easily as your confession did."
Melted ice splashed over the edges of his sockets as Aoshi smiled, a small tugging at the lips that spoke volumes of how grateful he was to have her with him, at the pinnacle of his inner-conflict.
Mirroring him perfectly, Misao whispered, "Here you are," and pressed smile to smile.
She closed her eyes and lost herself in the senses. He smelled wet, but masculine, the added incense from the temple that permeated the yukata proving to be very aromatic when added with water. His heart had started to thrum just a little faster beneath her right palm when she had initiated the kiss, but now that both pairs of lips had begun to relax against each other, it was practically leaping out of his chest. And his lips, those that had turned tight when on missions, and full when bowed in meditation were now soft and slightly herbal to taste, like the tea he ceremonially drank. The tea she carried to him every midmoring, now sitting cold on the floor of his darkened room.
A crack of lightning flashed over her lids, brought her out of her haze, and back into the arms of her Aoshi-sama.
With a raise of her head, she broke the kiss. But as she rose, so did a hand to pull her head back down, as well as another at the small of her back to ensure that she wouldn't fly away at the slightest opportunity. Arching her spine to mold the touch, she settled into his awkward embrace, the world turning over as she felt herself being rolled onto her back, the shower of kisses falling over her mouth like sakura blossoms.
If this was a dream, let her never wake up.
"Misao?" the whisper was soft, vaguely sedated, and layered over the rumbling of distant thunder.
Her heart groaned and she reached out to pull the heat back to her, blindly searching in the darkness for the heavy fabric to twist in her hands. No, now she would have to face her empty room and ruined kimono. He had never come for her, never told her all that she hoped he felt, never kissed her. And worst of all, she would wake to find Aoshi guarded and stony, a face of granite that would never weather under any emotion. It could never crack under her words and cry the tears that had dripped onto her skin.
But if this was a dream ended, it was only because of a survival instinct that foretold her ultimate death if she didn't wake up. She was nearly frozen after her walk in the storm. Her heart could continue to be wound about this vision forever, while her soul unfurled its wings and flew up to the great beyond.
She wouldn't die that easy. Her eyes shot open to be met by his, two blue stars shining through the darkness, intently shining down at her.
"Yes?" she was surprised at how frail her answer sounded, but couldn't counter herself with his his eyes piercing through her own.
"I don't want to hurt you,"
Hurt her? For the past two and a half years he had plucked the notes of her undying love for him with painful disinterest. Narrowing her eyes up at his, she practically growled, "Then don't stop."