Lightning and Thunder

By Seabreeze

A/N: So I read a story by Chibi-angel3 concerning Misao and Soujiro and I almost died because it was so cute. And as much a Misao/Aoshi fan I am, I'm really intrigued by the whole idea of Soujiro and the weasel. Something about it works.

So here's my take on Soujiro and Misao. It's semi-AU, in that it takes place in Japan in the 1870's, but Soujiro is not the tenken.

Disclaimer: I own nothing at all, except for my interpretation of someone else's idea.

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Misao crawled into bed wordlessly, completely ignoring the other person in the bed whose back was to her own. She plopped down angrily, hoping she had disturbed him as she roughly situated herself under the blankets.

She flicked off the light and pulled the covers over her shoulders, finally settling quietly. She couldn't lose any sleep wasting time bothering him, after all. Her peaceful rest mattered more than annoying him.

Just as she had begun to drift off into the darkness, there was a low rumble outside. Misao groaned inwardly – that rumble was a sure sign that a storm was coming. She hated storms. She would never admit or show that – especially not to him. Brave little Misao, as Okina had always called her. Not scared of a thing.

…except the occasional storm.

No matter how many storms she had lived through, they still shook her. Especially when the thunder was so loud it seemed to crack the sky in half – Misao was sure that the world could only end in a storm.

She nestled further into the blankets, tensing her muscles unconsciously in preparation for the first strike. With practice, she had learned to control her fearful reactions of the storms. But it was never completely successful. That made her nervous – maybe even more nervous than she was of the storm itself. She wouldn't have the one next to her know a thing about her fear.

She scowled at the thought of him.

If it weren't for him, none of this would be a problem. Misao could tremble as much as she liked alone in her own bed in her own room – but as it was, she was in his bed. His room.

Okina had told her since she was a little girl that she was betrothed to a great man. A great, powerful man. Naturally, Misao had always assumed that meant one person, the person she was meant to love forever… Aoshi Shinomori.

But a young girl's dreams never match the fate she is held fast to.

It had come as quite a distressing surprise when Aoshi had taken her out for a walk – Misao knew she was nearing 18, so she assumed he was going to propose. That afternoon, Misao thought all her dreams would come true.

But they had walked. And walked. And walked.

Misao was beginning to question her theory as her hopes dropped – at least about the proposal. Perhaps they were going to get supplies? But Okina would've told her something that trivial.

As the twosome neared a dojo, Misao felt her confusion duplicate.

"Aoshi," she had asked, voice wavering. "What's going on?"

"Silence, Misao," Aoshi had replied simply.

After that, the truth unfolded. They were at the strange, far away dojo to negotiate the marriage – Misao's marriage to a total stranger. Although most of the details had been worked out, that meeting was to confirm Misao's virginity at the time and for the rest of the year until they wed. Though Misao sat emotionless during these discussions, she felt lost and hopeless, and kept sending Aoshi pleading looks. All of which he ignored.

The only good part of all of it was that Aoshi seemed unhappy with the situation.

"Aoshi-sama, please don't make me do this!" she had cried to him on their way back.

"It is out of my hands, Misao." He had responded darkly, and then said nothing more.

Eleven months later found Misao locked in a room with her new husband for her wedding night.

"Don't you even think about touching me," Misao had warned her husband viciously. "I may be married to you, but my heart belongs to Aoshi-sama!"

Two weeks, and he had obeyed her order. He hadn't touched her once. He had barely said a word to her, outside of what was necessary. In fact, now that she thought of it, she had no idea whether her husband was happy about their union, or as distraught as she was. He had so willingly followed her lead in silence that she had assumed for the past two weeks that he disliked the situation as much as she did.

Nor did she care about his feelings on the subject.

He wasn't so bad a husband, she supposed – only a few years older than herself, handsome, fit, clean. Well-mannered. Polite.

But he was no Aoshi.

The room lit up as lightning jagged across the sky. Too wrapped up in her own thoughts, Misao was not fully prepared for the sharp thunder that shook the bed where she lie.

For a moment, she trembled in unsupressed terror.

After it subsided, though, she realized that if her husband was awake, he would've felt that. She lie silently in fear, waiting for a reaction: none.

She readjusted her head's placement on the pillow and sighed a breath of relief – he was asleep.

At least –

"You're scared of thunder?"

She froze again, feeling anger well in her chest. Who said he could talk, and who said he could talk about that?

"I'm scared of nothing." She shot back without moving to face him.

"That's what I thought up until just now, but I guess I was wrong." There was a hint of teasing in his voice, and enraged, she flipped around, only to find that he was already facing her.

"I am scared of nothing, and don't you ever forget it," she snarled as ferociously as she could. Her husband regarded her with calm blue eyes for a moment.

"Alright, if you say so." He said, turning his back to her once again. "But I'm here if you get scared again."

"I won't!" she practically shouted at his back. Scowling, she lie back down. What the hell did he know? She might be scared of storms, but she certainly did not need him to protect her.

The lightning and thunder continued, and for the most part, Misao controlled her fear. As the storm quieted down, she felt herself drifting off into a comfortable sleep. When the thunder was far off like that, as a storm subsided, it was almost… calming. Misao yawned a few times before her eyes drifted shut, and she lost consciousness…

BANG.

It literally sounded as if a canon had just been shot at the luxurious dojo. Misao let out a terrified scream, and grabbed ahold of the nearest thing to her – her husband's arm.

Despite herself, she clung tightly to him, even when he turned once again to face her.

"Not scared of anything?" he inquired softly, raising an eyebrow. Misao shot him the best glare she could, but she was shaking too hard to put much venom behind it.

Her husband's expression softened, and he turned completely to face her, wrapping his other arm around her shoulders.

"I can feel your heart beat," he observed quietly, face mere inches from hers. Misao felt an urge to push away, but her body was still recovering from the shock of the thunder, and she didn't think she could physically pull away from his protective embrace.

"Tell anyone about this, and I'll castrate you." She warned a few minutes later, voice louder than she intended in the quieting night. Though his eyes were closed, he chuckled.

"Not that it would matter, my virgin bride, but you have my word."

Misao did not respond. Instead, she forced herself to close her eyes. After all, having them open would not protect her from the storm, and it was finally dissipating, and her husband would protect her. It was his job.

- - - - - - - -

A/N: I like it. I could go on, but I don't think I will. Use your imaginations and decide whether they become a happy married couple or not.

Also, if the SouMisao thing lights your fire, I'm working on a multi-chapter fic concerning those two. It should be pretty good. Keep an eye out.