Last night seemed like a horrible nightmare to her. Everything was repeated and played over and over in her head. Why did she say those things to him? Did she truly want to hate him?
"Please stay away from me, Aoshi. Please. You must seek your redemption and I must seek my salvation"
She now hated those words. Why did she ever even say them? Misao shook her head in distraught thinking that the words spoken the previous night, were the wedge that would cause the rift between her and Aoshi to exacerbate, so much that its effects were irreversible. She turned the idea of apologizing to him over and over in her head but too many things had been said and too many bottled up feelings came out the wrong way and whatever could have become of Aoshi and her will always be just a mere guess or daydream of her's.
She yawned heavily, from the laziness seeping through her bones and the lethargic feeling of staying in her bed for the whole day overcame her but she couldn't indulge herself today. NO, today was the day; she was going to meet her future husband. She was going to meet the wretched man who had offered Okina, alliance with his clan and the promise that the first-born son of Misao would become the Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu and not his. He had promised much more, so much more that it would make Okina's eyes gleam with greed and agree to the nameless man's offer. Yes, Okina would sell off Misao to the highest bidder behind the lie that he did not want her to become an old maid.
It was her duty as the last of her line to produce an heir. But because there was no one suitable to marry within the Oniwanbanshuu there was no choice left. Funny, how she would always assume that Aoshi would step to the plate and claim her for his. But he never did. She wondered in her head and had many fantasies about how he would proclaim his love for her. But her hope died along with her innocence. With a great heaving sigh, she pushed herself off the bed, and trudged towards her closet, in slow agonizing steps- so as to prolong her way down to face the world and its cruelty. She shuffled the heaps of clothes and looked long and hard to find a suitable kimono to wear. Finally after much deliberation, she had found a purple and metallic blue kimono laced with actually traces of silver within it. She wondered why she had discarded such a beautiful kimono in the back of her closet for so long without so much of a consideration for its worth or value.
She let the kimono slide on; the cool touch of the silk against hot skin relaxed her and comforted her a little bit. The cool material felt refreshing and she liked the way she looked in it, she looked – pretty. Misao smiled a sad smile, and thought that no one would be able to see her true worth; her clothes and her fake smile were just a façade that no one could see through. With the depressing thought in her head, she quietly slid out of her room and downstairs. Entering the kitchen she smelled a deliciously, an intoxicating perfume of food permeate through the air – seducing her to sit down and consume whatever food had produced such a pleasant surprise to her olfactory. Her stomach rumbling slightly reminded her that she had not been able to eat any food since her encounter with Okina and then later on the momentary encounter with Aoshi. She quickly glanced around for the food but was interrupted by the sound of solid footsteps approaching. She scowled at her luck- she was never going to be able to eat with so many interruptions.
"Misao"
The voice would always probe her soul and touch it in the most intimate ways. She was a fool the other day, a fool indeed to think that she would get over him so easily. She would always fall prey to him and she silently screamed in her mind for being so easily manipulated -so easily tricked. She turned around and glanced at him, and then it came back. The look on his face, the way he scowled. It was the reason why she wanted to hate him and the reason why she thought it wasn't such a bad idea. Yes, indeed things can be deceiving- for example she seemed happy but was she? No, she would never be truly happy until she belonged to herself again and not to someone she didn't even know yet – to the nameless rich man whom her soul and life had been literally sold to.
"Misao"
The voice shook her out of her hateful daydream and her state of despair and melancholy.
"Misao... are you alright?"
She quickly glanced down at her feet, to regain her composure and then slowly made eye contact with Aoshi only to break it quickly. There was so much confusion and pain hidden in her wide eyes, that she feared if she did look at him for any longer than a couple of seconds- her true emotions would then come spilling out and he would know. He would know and he would pity her. Pity the girl who had fallen so hard and so bad that she was miserable. And the last thing she wanted to from him right now was pity.
She placed on a sickeningly sweet smile on her face and answered his question with deliberate slowness, "Yes... I am quite fine..."
Aoshi turned away and looked into the far off distance, to what he did not know but he didn't want to take in the sight of Misao in her majesty. She looked so beautiful, so consumable, so rapturous, he wanted ... he wanted – well it didn't matter what he wanted anymore – she was unattainable now. She belonged to the man who he was about to introduce to her- to his Misao. There was a pregnant silence between them, as neither dared to speak their mind and as neither wanted to break the silence. Heavy and evenly spaced footsteps broke the tension filled silence as Aoshi cleared his throat and turned around to look at the man who had appeared at the most inauspicious time. Growling he pushed aside his hate and said,
"Good. I would like to introduce to you – Maruyama-san. He will be your future husband."
Misao looked up and glanced towards the man who had suddenly appeared in front of Aoshi. She did not even notice the man coming up; he entered their stare out and became the third wheel. She wondered if he knew, she had once contained feelings for the tall, silent, brooding man facing her. She wondered if he knew, but he truly didn't care. She wondered and wondered what life would be like as the silent became pregnant with anticipation on who next would speak. She was not truly acquainted with the proper etiquette of society. She wondered if she should speak and start the conversation as she had done so many times on her tea visits to Aoshi, or if she should remain silent and submissive as most proper wives suppose to be. Maruyama-san acquitted her of such thoughts when he interrupted her thoughts with a throaty croak.
"Kirei... how beautiful... I see that I will certainly pleased with her as my wife" Toshio Maruyama said without much consideration for what she thought of him. He was a man of power and thought little of the people that helped him and served him. He was the most important person in his life.
Misao had tears in her eyes, they were threatening to spill and come splashing down unto the floors and reveling her true emotions. But she kept them in; she would certainly not cry in front of this stranger and show her weakness. She feared this Maruyama would learn to use them against her. She was already distrustful of her husband, what a horrible wife she was going to make.
Maruyama without so much as a glance towards Misao said, "You will accompany me out to Okina's garden and you will tell me what you like, so I may arrange for it to be attained as your wedding gift" He walked ahead of her, not caring if she followed or did not or maybe he had always gotten his way and assumed she would follow like a lost puppy.
Misao fluttered her eyes shut and then open back again, only to see a blurry image of Aoshi and for the first time in her life- an emotion in his usually stoic face. She saw a deep and profound guilt etched across his face. It was so evident she held back a choking cry. She glanced towards her future husband and started a long and slow procession towards him. But before she got any further, she looked back at Aoshi for one last glance and as she did so, her tears splattered onto the wooden floor as her head whipped back to look at him. Her eyes held a certain drowning and utter despair in her eyes.
Aoshi hated himself. Aoshi hated everything about him. His existence. His entire being. He saw the pain in Misao's eyes and did nothing as he sold her off to the monster Maruyama. He sold her to the whore-crazed Maruyama, who would probably be off with some other girl on the night of Misao's wedding, he had given Misao to Maruyama who would regard Misao as some bedmate- perfect for the taking and just there for that reason and that reason alone. He hated Maruyama. But he hated himself more.