Author's Note: October challenge is trapped into a to do list. November challenge away!

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The Prince and the Prose

Silver Miko

It was curious, that for a week there was little to no trace of Misao. No loudness, no bustling, no shouted orders.

Nothing.

Anyone else would simply enjoy the silence, and most of the Aoiya did, and yet Aoshi was the only one brooding on it. Wondering what it was that suddenly captivated the petite ninja and kept her awake all hours by candlelight and wandering off to seek solitude.

Okina stated it was simply a book she was reading, but really Misao so enchanted by a book?

What sort of book?

A samurai novel, perhaps?

A girlish romance drivel?

The idea of Misao reading about the courtships of people and the possibility of described intimate relations made his mouth draw grim.

Such a book was not suitable for his Okashira, even if her eighteenth year had come and gone. As much as she was now a woman, there were still things that having her exposed to made him feel unsettled.

So then what was this book that had her so enraptured? Enough so that she was late in bringing his tea the past few days, a ritual that was so exact and ordinary...so precise in its time that for her to falter it was disturbing.

It was foolish maybe, this curiosity turned displeasure he felt.

So what if she was reading? Was it not a good thing for her to educate herself?

He paced in his room, dressed in his violet pants and gi, which was another thing. He seldom ever paced. It was a sign of worry and anxiety, a habit he never really adopted and yet here his feet were- burning holes into the wooden floor so to speak.

One could say, if brave or observant enough of the former okashira, that he was jealous of the inanimate object. Something stealing so much of her attentions...attentions that had once been devoted to him.

But that was selfishness, ugly and petty.

He did not want to feel such things, he was better than that. She was allowed hobbies, a life aside from them and him.

So then why did it bother him so?

The late tea, the absence, the silence.

He needed to talk to her.

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Misao sat perched in the small gazebo, absorbed in the leather bound book in her hands. The book had been sent from Kenshin from Tokyo, a classic Western play that Kenshin had thought she would like and perhaps even loan to Aoshi.

It was the story of a prince, whose father was killed by his uncle who then married his mother. The prince plotted revenge, feigning madness and spurning his fiancee.

Misao had just read the death of the prince's fiancee, who had gone mad when the prince accidentally killed her father.

The prince broke away from all his bonds, gave into madness...

Akin to another 'prince' she knew. Aoshi.

Both driven to madness through vengeance.

Luckily, she had not succumbed to madness as the girl when Aoshi attacked Okina, but she felt empathy for the girl. The tragic Ophelia.

She was so into the text, she didn't hear or sense Aoshi approaching until he stood before her.

"Misao."

She looked up, blinking.

"Oh, Aoshi-sama! What is it?"

He looked down at the book, and the perplexed look on her face.

"I've noticed you've been...withdrawn lately. This book you're reading is the reason I assume?"

"The book? I guess so. It's just really good and even though I don't really get some of what they're saying but it's still really good. Himura said in the letter he sent I should loan it to you when I'm done."

"I see. It was a birthday gift then?"

"Yep. Though why Himura got me a book...I guess he thought I could relate. At least Kaoru-san was practical and sent me some sweets."

"Aa." he murmured, recalling how she had mentioned a package from the Himuras, but at the time did not feel inclined to inquire its contents since it was addressed to Misao.

She went back to reading, and Aoshi felt awkward standing there.

He had a strange urge to rip the book away and make her pay attention to him, an urge that surprised him.

Misao blinked and looked back up.

"Was there anything else, Aoshi-sama?"

"No. Nothing." he said softly, and turned to leave.

"Aoshi-sama! I'm almost done and it's really good so...I could read it to you when I finish over tea. I guess I've been ignoring everyone too much if you had to come and investigate. Miss me that much?" she teased with a grin.

Aoshi looked down at her, and without a word sat down next to her.

"Continue as you were."

"But...you're just going to watch me read?"

"Aa."

"But...won't you be bored?"

"Sitting in one place quietly for long periods of time are not a problem, Misao. Keep reading."

"Okay...I guess." she mumbled and went back to reading, occasionally glancing at Aoshi who seemed content to just watch her.

"Aoshi-sama?"

"Yes?"

"I...I'm glad you didn't let your madness consume you and destroy you. The prince in this story...he reminds me of you in ways."

"Does he?" Aoshi asked, trying hard to let his mind wander back to the Shishio affair.

"Yea. Maybe when I read it to you, I'll understand it better."

He didn't reply, just made a "hm" noise and let her go back to reading.

He wondered what the story was about, but soon enough she would share it with him. For now, he was simply content to be in her presence. To have her by his side again.

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So small and lame. But my tonsils are defying me and getting all hurty again. I think its cuz I'm hanging with the bf Friday. I seem to always be sick or he is. DAMN YOU NEW ENGLAND WEATHER! It snowed and depressed me. I'm not prepared for that yet.