The Trap of Innocence

Part III


Misao growled in anger. "What a self absorbed bastard."

"Misao..."

She looked over at Soujiro, her angry expression dimming. Maybe it was the tone of his voice that caused her to pause in such a way.

"Huh?"

"That man there - do you know him?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I know him."

He knew who -that- man was. Shinomori Aoshi- Realm Leader. His association with the great vampire he'd told Misao he'd known had shown him a photo of both Realm Leaders.

He seen Shinomori's face before in person though.

He never would have expected to be in such a situation.

But a vampire like that could save his life, could relieve him of the loyalty oaths he'd taken to Shishio, that with Shishio's subsequent death, were now killing him.

"May I ask you several personal questions?"

She came over to where he sat sliding the cup of tea toward him. "Sure, you want this?"

He smiled and accepted the tea. "Thank you."

He paused a moment, sipping the brew before continuing.

"Are you a virgin?" He knew this answer already, but he was going to use it as a lead.

Her cheeks reddened. "Why the hell do you want to know that?"

"Please trust me. It involves your friend, that man who visited a few minutes ago."

She frowned. "Yeah, so?" She refused to look at him while saying so, her eyes instead turned toward the doorway.

"Do you know about the powers virgins carry?"

She looked back. "I know they can protect me from being attacked by the vampire males. Something about it repels them."

Soujiro nodded. "Human virgins cannot engage in a physical intimacy with vampire males without killing the male. Since this doesn't apply to vampiric females, I must assume then you are half human?"

Misao nodded. "So? Why does this matter and what's it got to do with-" She trailed off abruptly.

"That man wants you," he stated simply.

She just stared at him as though he were lying straight to her face and she couldn't believe he would do such a thing to her.

"But because you're a virgin - he can't have you."

"Why are we talking about this?" she asked, looking uncomfortable.

"He's offered me something."

Soujiro sipped his tea to avoid immediately continuing.

Misao, however, didn't appreciate the pause. "Such as?"

"He has confirmed my suspicions about my illness and told me that he can cure me of it. But he will only do so in return for me taking your virginity."

"WHAT?"

"Because he can't do it himself... and I can."

She shot to her feet, slamming her fist on the table. "Lousy freaking-"

"Misao," Soujiro calmly interrupted. "Is your relationship with him bad?"

"Bad?" she paused. "No. Why?"

"I'm sorry, I was just curious. I apologize for asking such a thing of you. I should've realized you would not agree."

Soujiro's smile was bright and Misao relaxed. "Don't worry about it," she said.

He stood with his cup. "I'll just take this to your sink, if you don't mind."

"No, no I'll take it."

She reached for the cup, drawing herself nearer to him. When his hand gripped her one shoulder, she froze. He drew two fingers to her temple on the other side.

"Let the past five minutes, be forgotten."

His fingers glowed briefly. Her eyes turned blank and she blinked the memories away.

"What was I just doing?"

"Taking my cup to the sink," he replied with a small smile.

"Oh." She looked at the cup. "Right."

He had hoped for the direct approach to work, but she was apparently not going to be helpful on that front. He sighed. He would try it once more, with a much more subtle tone and take the route of seduction.

If she didn't respond, he would go his ways from her peacefully. He would not attempt to force her and erase her memory - his memory "gift" was an ill side-effect of his current condition and couldn't be used without at least some willingness to leave a memory from the other person.

It hadn't always been like that, but since Shishio was no longer around his "power" was not really a "power" anymore, but a "sometimes convenience".


Aoshi met dawn uneasily, his conscience warring with his desire. No matter how he wanted her, he couldn't have her. But that boy, Soujiro, could.

Seta Soujiro had been one of the right hand men of Shisho's rebellion, a sworn solider of the maniac. He remembered the boy's empty smile.

Then there was Hannya, another giant problem.

It did not seem he would be able to convince his friend to let him have the girl and if he couldn't do away with her virginity by some method other than himself, which was impossible, he wouldn't have much use for her anyway, except to tease himself.

He tried to quell the possessive homicidal thoughts, the desire he had to simply rip the boy in half if he dared to touch her, but it couldn't be. He couldn't go back on his own terms.

He couldn't have Misao while she was still in her "condition", something he forgot from time to time. He looked up when his door opened and Hannya stepped in.

"Good morning, Aoshi-sama."

Aoshi replied automatically, wondering at the sudden appearance of his longtime friend. Hannya was not one for dropping by his secluded stronghold often, and tended to avoid it if possible.

"Something bothering you?" Aoshi inquired, looking back toward his desk.

"I have heard rumors about one Kamatari, wandering about killing off Saitou's men."

"..." Aoshi just listened.

"Is it so?" Hannya pressed.

"To my knowledge, Kamatari's presence is unconfirmed."

"But you think he's there?" Hannya inquired, not willing to leave the topic. "Wandering the border territories?"

"It is believed to be so, yes."

Hannya's silence revealed nothing but when he bowed and made to leave, Aoshi called him back. "Is there nothing I can do to change your mind about Misao?"

"She is not suitable for you, Aoshi-sama. What do you know of her, outside of your lust for her?"

"You mean to say to me that you will not approve of my directing attentions to her unless I prove to you, I have an interest beyond sex? Am I known for being so shallow?"

"You are a man with little patience for women beyond the physical, Aoshi-sama and your history speaks for itself. You have never, in my time with you, had a serious relationship with a woman, and human women have been nothing but passing sexual partners."

Aoshi turned a sharp glance in his friend's direction. "Misao is not-"

"She is half human," Hannya interrupted. "Have you thought of it? If your interest in her is beyond the physical and you wanted her for your mate - hypothetically, and brought her here to live with you... Would it work? Would she feel uneasy? Would she, a half-breed, be welcomed here?"

"I have considered such things."

"I do not doubt it. But do you know how Misao feels about our race? She is young and exudes innocence, but the girl is troubled. A boiling hatred lurks beneath that pretty smile -maybe you should find out more about her."

He watched his friend leave and the moment he was gone, Aoshi stood. Such troubling thoughts...

So early...


Misao giggled as Soujiro's third attempt to juggle bannanas failed.

"You're an idiot," she decided watching him pick up the bruised fruit.

He half-smiled at her and glanced at the heavily bruised produce before setting it aside. "Sorry, I think I might have ruined them."

She shrugged it off. "I'll make bread or something. I learned how to make it from my former guardian. Surprised me, I thought banana bread sounded gross."

Soujiro neared plopping himself down onto the floor cushion across from where Misao sat on the other side of the little table.

"Who was your former guardian? If you do not mind."

She looked up, her lips turned down. "She was a good person at heart, I miss her."

"She wasn't related to you?"

"No, we parted a long time ago."

"Why?"

Misao looked away, shaking her head negatively. "It was stormy, fitting I suppose, when my mother stumbled into the shrine yard where Kisa-sensei was the head miko. She was a drunk, a whore from a local brothel. She handed me over to Kisa-sensei telling her I was possessed by a demon because I had bitten her and I think a couple of others, drawing blood.

"Kisa-sensei said my mother fled the moment I was out of her arms in fright. She kept me there at the shrine, she bound my ankles and wrists and neck with holy charms to control my ... problems."

"A problem? Is that what she called it?"

"She always said I needed to control my little 'accidents' and not to let my bad blood get the best of me and then in the same breath she would say she wouldn't be surprised if I couldn't, I was only a half-breed."

Soujiro frowned. "She was hard on you."

"I don't know. A miko is a miko I guess. And what's worse to a miko than something she views as 'bad'? But controlling the kind of thirst I have is impossible. The seals help, but they can't control what my body wants. So I had to sneak away from the shrine at least once a month to keep from biting people randomly."

"How did you come to be a guardian?"

"Accident. I have a bad temper and I attacked a guy much stronger than me. I was rescued by another guy stronger than me - turned out to be my 'father'. He arranged for me to do this. It wasn't my idea. Aoshi-sama said it was temporary... I don't know what he means by that. I'm not sure I want to find out really."

The house was neat and clean and virtually dustless. She'd spent much of the previous night cleaning everything she could get her hands on. Now, today she was feeling just as restless.

"Sad though... I hear some parents ask their children what their goals are, what they want to be in life... I hear others argue about the child not wanting to inherit the family business and things like that. I wonder a lot if they have any idea how much their lives are worth, short as they are, in the long run.

"Life has value simply because there's so little of it. If you exist for fifteen centuries there's just… " she trailed off.

With that incomplete melancholy thought, she stood and disappeared into her kitchen.


The human world was not a place he much liked to venture. The bright lights and bustling noises served more to annoy him than to entrance him. He liked the red rimmed skies of his own domain and the quiet shuffling of slippered feet on old, traditional floors.

He didn't like the grungy clothes and loud mouths and smacking of gum, nor did he have any appreciation for much of the modern world's "technology". It was far more intrusive to him than helpful.

As he stepped beyond the gateway he glanced about, the black fabrics of his clothes flowing around his frame. This gate opened onto a non-populated back street, but he could already hear the noisy crowd ahead.

The gateways to his world were another interesting thing. The "border lands" were continuous but not porous. One could only pass through at certain, guarded "gateways", often located in the strangest of places.

With the simple touch of the palm on the gateway "locks", it was quite possible to fall right in. It was not uncommon for a human to stumble past a gateway and become lunch for the guard on the other side.

No one who errantly discovered his "world" returned.

As he made his way up the alley toward the sidewalk, he encountered a watch salesman on the corner. He glanced at the human man once and continued on, ignoring the sales pitch streaming from thin lips.

He glided through the crowds with ease, his presence causing somewhat of a feeling of awe, as others instinctively moved away.

His destination was already formed clearly in his mind. He wanted to see the only social center that drew her.

The only place, as of yet, he knew her to go, to mingle among the humans.

The Kamiya Dojo.

He found it on a side street with considerably less traffic than the one he'd entered onto from the gate way at least three streets over. His long legs and quick strides had scaled the distance swiftly.

The windows were glass and wide, and the doors the same. He saw nothing within but a small secretarial desk and a woman seated at it.

He pulled open the door and stepped inside.

It seemed within the span of miles that he could sense her, the girl who had fire burning in her eyes... his little hunter... the girl who had coaxed him into spying at her bedroom windows for weeks on end...

All because of a strange encounter at a whore house...

Curiously, he had yet to return to the Aquis since then.

"Can I help you, Sir?"

The girl at the desk was bright eyed and completely human. The sound of her blood pulsing through her heart was curiously unappealing.

"What kind of services does this gym offer?"

She smiled at him brightly and began to rattle off a list of things that slipped past his ears.

He waited, feeling her, Misao... She was here on these very grounds. Glancing once at the receptionist, he was certain she would not answer questions about Misao, even if she did acknowledge the girl was even a student here and she certainly wouldn't permit him to see her.

Misao masqueraded as a school girl, did she not?

"Would it be acceptable for me to be assigned an escort for a tour of your facility?" he inquired smoothly, his lips curving no smile, but soft and flat, unresponsive to her continued brilliance.

"Of course," she agreed. "I can show you around."

If the girl was trying to flirt with him, he hadn't noticed. She rose, tugging down her knee-length straight lined skirt modestly. If it was actually to straighten the garment or get his attention, he didn't bother wondering, he glanced away.

Misao was beyond this wall...

Ruler of the House of Shinomori he was, but that didn't empower him with the ability to see through walls or read minds, no matter how much he may have liked such a skill.

The woman whose name he failed to catch, young woman, he corrected, ushered him beyond the large white wall. It led to a simple, narrow hall lined with glass windows with blinds on the inside. Some of the rooms were darkened, others were lit and he could see students all moving in unison obeying the word of the instructor at the front.

The young lady continued to speak, a cascade of hair flowing down her back held in place by an ornately colored ribbon. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke of the place, obviously pride-fully.

As she led him further down the hall, one of the doors opened.

"Shut up, weasel girl, you're just running at the mouth again!"

"Who're you calling 'weasel girl'?"

He turned his eyes up at her voice coming upon the little group. As they neared all the others turned toward them and a silence fell over them as they spotted him with the young woman.

They greeted her with the ease of familiarity, but Misao, he noted went stone silent, staring at him from beside a tall, lanky man with spiky hair. Was he the one who had called her "weasel girl"? What an interesting nickname.

"Misao," he greeted, but it sounded more like a summons to his ears.

She peered around the male beside her and half-smiled. "Hello, Aoshi-sama."

The others took new notice of him at the girl's formal address. "Misao, is this a friend of yours?" The escort, Kaoru he realized now, tentatively asked, her eyes relaying her curiosity.

Misao nodded. "Sort of. Aoshi-sama is..."

"A family friend," he filled in, glancing over her companions. They appeared harmless enough.

"Right," Misao agreed, looking relieved momentarily. "Anyway... I gotta go. I'll see you guy's later, okay?"

She didn't give them a chance to agree; she stepped past them airily and grabbed Aoshi's hand. He glanced at his escort, thanked her, and allowed Misao to tug him out of the building.

Once in the street, she turned an accusatory glare toward him. "What are you doing here? Don't you have some awesome, House Leader work to be doing or something?"

He didn't bother himself with an answer. "What do you go there for? Surely there is nothing a paltry human school can teach you."

Despite the low traffic, he slipped his hand about her wrist and pulled her along, walking toward even less populated areas. If he remembered this place correctly there was an alleyway that led to another street that led to the street by the one that branched off toward a graveyard.

Convoluted, certainly, but he was sure he knew where he was. He never forgot a place once he'd walked it.

Misao tottered along beside him. "I happen to like it there, excuse me for wanting a life."

"Among humans? What do they offer you?"

"What do you?" she countered and he stopped midway down a narrow, darkened alley. The air was musty here, dank…

"I?" he asked, turning glowing eyes toward her. He moved toward her, crowding her against the dusty cement wall and she flattened herself back against it as though seeing the predator he was for the first time.

His eyes glowed, teeth glinting, he checked a growl.

Him?

What was he offering her?

Who was this girl to say such things to him? Why was he here making such a fuss? What had changed in him to cause this? Why?

Some strange encounter at his favorite haunt? Why did that warrant all this attention? Why did he leave his residence, his peaceful residence to stalk her about the human world, a place he detested so fervently?

Why did he waste the hours of his staff to keep tabs on her?

What for?

What was the ultimate goal?

Startled at the sudden, intricate clarity of the situation he moved back from her as much as the tight walls would allow and then turned his back to her. Without a word further, he continued on to the end of the alleyway, and vanished.

She hadn't even started to follow him.

Being Realm Leader gave him one indefinable power the others of his kind didn't have, the ability to bypass all gates. He went from his secluded stronghold to the human world without ever passing a guardian.

As he returned to his gated mansion, he wondered, how did Hannya, one without approval, continue to visit and watch over Misao when she lived on the other side of the barriers?

The halls were quiet, as always, no one dared disturb the Leader of the House of Shinomori, if he was within or not. He spotted Okina flirting with a young female and saw the old man pinch her behind and heard the girl's surprised squeak as she whirled around to face him and then froze.

She immediately bowed low, averting her eyes. "Aoshi-sama…"

Okina turned back, his lecherous grin vanishing as he bowed respectfully. "Aoshi-sama."

"Call Omasu and Okon back, their assignment is over."

The old man blinked at the curt order, merely watching as Aoshi turned just as quickly and left him there alone with the servant.

Who was she to deserve such attention from him?

He did not need this girl.

He didn't want to be troubled in this fashion. Troubled and questioned and… Let her live her ungrateful life on the edge of human society, let her suffer as she wanted, who was he to stoop to pull her from her gutter?

Why was he suddenly so bitter about it all?

He opened the door to his office and slid the door closed irritably. The room was tidy and perfect, just as he'd left it. Just as he'd walked out it the night he'd gone to visit the Aquis, the night he'd first laid eyes upon the little guardian.

He settled himself at his desk, reaching for the nearest book. He kept a stack of unfinished books in a drawer on the left. As he flipped open to the last unread page, there came a knock. Aoshi recognized the aura as Okina and called for the man to enter.

"Aoshi-sama, Omasu and Okon have been informed. They will return within the next few hours, do you require a final report?"

"No." He didn't even look up. "Send for Beshimi; have him patrol the border for that rebel, Kamatari. Once he is spotted, have Hannya tend to the matter."

"As you like. Do you wish him captured?"

"Kill him," Aoshi ordered voice completely void of emotion.

Okina cast him one final, curious glance and left him. "As you wish, Aoshi-sama." With that, the door slid closed once more.

So leave her to her own devices, he thought, turning his attention to his book. He would not visit her again.


Omasu yawned. "What a trip. I'm surprised we're back so quickly."

Okon nodded. "I'm glad. I'm not much for the shoddy camping trips. I like it when others do the spying."

As they stepped within the mansion, the scent of candles drifted toward their noses. The front lounge was lit with soft candlelight, an indicator Okina intended to spend the night reading. Usually an indicator he had been rejected by his latest flame.

"You're late."

They both looked up as the old man appeared, in his hands a book, a prim set of glasses perched on the end of his nose. He looked so…

They laughed.

He looked so… Silly.

"How did your trip go?" he asked, setting aside his book for the moment, motioning to them he wanted them to stay.

The girls exchanged curious glances. For them to give debriefing reports to anyone but Aoshi-sama when he had sent them out was rare.

"Okay."

"Aoshi-sama has said he doesn't wish a report from you. But tell me… This girl you were monitoring, did you notice anything unusual about her?"

The girls exchanged another glance. "Um… No?"

"No?" he asked and then waved a hand betwee them. "What was that? That look there?"

"Don't ask us that, we took this mission for Aoshi-sama, if we were to say anything about something he did, we would be breaking a confidence."

Okina's brows drew down curiously. "So… There is something there, then?" He nodded. "She's a… personal friend?"

Omasu paused. "I wouldn't call her a … friend… exactly."

"So she's more than a friend?"

Both nodded. "Oh, yes."

Okina digested this information silently. "Did anything unusual happen before you were recalled?"

Okon cleared her throat. "I was following her today. She went into town, which seems to be her usual schedule, and spent some time at a place called 'Kamiya's Dojo'. While I watched the place from across the street, Aoshi-sama appeared and went inside also. When he emerged, they spoke briefly and then he turned and started leading her away.

"I followed them up to an alleyway where she said something that seemed to make him angry because he got really close like he was going to bite her. But then he stepped away and walked to the end and left her there by herself.

"She stayed there for a couple of minutes, looking like she was surprised or startled… I almost want to say frightened but she didn't exactly look afraid. Then she slowly moved away, once she reached the end of the alley she started to run. We went back to the house where she went in, slamming the door and Omasu told me then were done and that's all. We left."

Okina nodded and waved them away.

They took a look back at him as they wandered away, both glad to be back.

"What do you think happened?" Omasu whispered.

"I don't know. Looks bad, doesn't it?

Omasu nodded.


Misao sat at her table glumly. Soujiro had gone. Where, she couldn't even begin to guess, but all his things were gone. Maybe he'd gone out for something, maybe he'd just left. He certainly hadn't left her a note or anything.

People could be so inconsiderate, she thought off-handedly.

She was confused.

What had happened earlier?

What had she said to upset him, Aoshi-sama, so greatly?

It wasn't uncommon for her mouth to get ahead of her. It was something she fairly often did, she and Sano spent all of their time arguing.

Still, she had always thought, well, in the short period she'd known him he seemed to have such an unshakable temper. He was nothing like her and…

She sighed.

Why was she so disappointed?

The heavy sense of finality to the whole thing wasn't something lost on her. This was what Hannya had wanted from the very first. For Aoshi-sama to leave her alone and for her to return to her hum-drum boring old half-life.

He was another problem, when she chose to think about it. "Hannya", a late addition to her life. She couldn't quite bring herself to call him "father" or any variation thereof. To her, he wasn't a father, not really. She hadn't had one; only women lived at her mountain home.

The only glimpses she'd even had of males while growing up had been when the occasional monk who had stopped by on his travels. It wasn't until she got old enough and started wandering off the grounds into the little villages that she'd met up with boys.

Since they had met some years ago Hannya been popping up with more frequency. Whether he thought he bore some responsibility for her or something, she couldn't be sure. She didn't want to think about it most times because it reminded her how long she'd been doing this.

It reminded her that this young body and this young face and young voice were all lies…

She lied to those around her. She lied to those she called friends. She lied, most importantly, to herself.

Some days she was 16 - in her head, in her actions. Some days, she felt like a spinster, the old woman who'd never married and had no one, not even family.

With an irritable glare she stomped upstairs toward her room and began stripping off her day attire angrily. She yanked her hunting uniform from a metal hanger, causing it to clang loudly against the ceiling of the armoire. Pulling it on, she grabbed her weapons and headed out.

She needed to think.

She needed to hunt.


The quiet, pleasing atmosphere of the Aquis lulled him into a state of mute satisfaction. He walked along silently, his head above those who he mingled amongst as he moved toward the stairs. The light, airy twinkling of the ladies with instruments as they entertained the visitors met his ears pleasantly.

Only the scent of alcohol tainted his favorite sanctuary.

He walked toward the back. The entryway to the upstairs rooms was guarded. Without a word or a glance from or to the guard, Aoshi slipped past the decorative curtain and ascended the stairs.

More music drifted through the open spaces.

The moment his foot touched the landing, a woman slipped her arms around his side.

"Good evening, Aoshi-sama…" she purred.

The woman bearing naked shoulders and an ample depth of cleavage smiled slyly at him.

"You've been gone longer than usual…" she murmured her voice soft.

He didn't reply. "Anyone new, Yumi?"

He used her name infrequently, usually when preceding a request.

"New?" she paused. "There is one girl. Small, quiet… Rather shy, I think. Her name is Kioko."

He didn't bother much over names, he instead, sat himself at a screened booth prepared for him and waited for his company and his tea.

It had been six days since he'd left the girl in that alley.

The girl – he no longer used her name.

He had, in that time, tried to pinpoint exactly what had attracted him to the girl, but could not. He wondered, as he contemplated, if Hannya had been correct in declaring it a mere physical attraction.

He pushed the matter aside for at least the millionth time in six short days. He could not, despite himself, forget about her.

He had not seen Hannya, nor had he heard of Beshimi spotting anyone along the border territories. Saitou had been absent also.

It was though his entire schedule had been… cleared.

His companion for the night arrived, dressed in layers of kimonos, and multitudes of shades. Her expression was hidden behind a silk fan, her hair, long and loose tumbled free over her kimono.

"Good evening, sir."

He grunted in response.

She sat across from him, another behind her bore a tea tray that was placed upon the table. For tonight, he would linger and listen to the woman prattle at him. It was the sound of her voice, not the words themselves, he was interested in. The actual messages she relayed were lost, he caught only the melodious tinkling sound…

For hours, he sat back, his eyes half closed listening to her speak. She seemed never to tire of topics. She could have spoken to him of purple fish and he wouldn't have blinked at the thought.

He sipped the tea slowly, enjoying the heat of the cup against his cold hands far more than he liked of the liquid itself.

He happened, in one of his moments of lucidity, to hear her mention a "flute". At his petition, she slipped it from the folds of her garment and raised the instrument to her lips and began to play.

Her hands were small and pretty, very dainty in fashion. They were not the hands of a hunter. Her skin radiated health, her lips were small and inviting, bright with color. She was a doll, painted and dressed for customers, but beneath that…

This girl was human, bound to the mortal coil, living, breathing… simply being.

She was as he saw her before him. A creature of flesh and blood and pulsing with life, a creature able to make music, a creature of happiness and sadness; she was a human creature.

One that was, in essence, unlike himself.

Who then was she? The other girl? The girl whose name he denied.

If she were not spun, not caught in the spidery web of humanity, and not held taut in the thickened cords of the near immortality his own clans offered, what was she?

Where did she lie?

Where did her future lie?

From what coils did she spring forth and to what coils did she retire?

He nearly growled at his own inability to concentrate.

After all, what did he know of this girl?

What did he even know of her parentage? He'd heard nothing but rumors.

Hannya had never spoken to him of it.

What did he know?

Why did he even care?

Again, a frosty sweep of indifference spread over him. He would think of it no further.

He motioned toward the woman. He tired of her chatter.

He was not disillusioned about why he'd come here, to the Aquis, this evening. He had come to forget.

To replay that evening the way it should've gone, to see it over with fresh eyes and forget the fact he'd found another, one who didn't belong here and become entranced by her.

He'd come to relive, a vain attempt to sweep away that which had already tainted his memory.

Before she had even slipped the tie of her kimono, letting the fabric hang, teasing him with glances of flesh beneath, he knew it would fail, but he beckoned her forth.

If he couldn't have his remembrance or his former inner peace, he was not going to deny himself his pleasure.

That girl…

He reached for his escort, pulling her into his lap.

That other girl… the girl whose name he wouldn't use… She couldn't be.

As his hands slid within the folds of the layered garment, he thought of it.

That other girl… She couldn't be his lover.


The sun rose to greet the maidens of the Four Hill Shrine, shining down upon them as they emerged from the humble temple. The grounds were wide and spacious surrounded by low built stone walls about the perimeter.

The women were dressed alike, in the red and white miko garb that separated them from the village peasants. They scattered over the courtyard, some with baskets of laundry, others ready with bows in their hands as they headed out to hunt, still even more with brooms, prepared to sweep the pathways.

Hannya stared into the place from the gate with a feeling of semi-fascination. In all his years, he'd never been interested enough to step foot upon human holy grounds. He knew not the power extents of monks and mikos and wards, though he'd heard much about them.

Misao had been raised at this place? He was almost in disbelief at the thought. How as it possible?

This strict holy place?

He couldn't imagine how she must've suffered in such a dismal environment. How she must have been looked down upon and trodden over…

The wounds he was convinced she must have, deep within, from her years of childhood torment at this shrine. Wounds that lay on the inside, the ones that caused her to turn on those of her own kind with such viciousness she might appear wild…

A place where a vampire child, as she had been, was a demon, an unnatural, the last conceivable place for a child of her parentage should've been welcomed. Or even survived…

And yet…

In a shrine full of holy women, Misao had remained alive. They had not killed her or cast her out. It was a powerful, inescapable fact.

How was this so?

To what end had Misao left this place alive? To what purpose had she been reared here? What silly nonsense they her ears been sullied with, tainting her mind and hindering her ability to live, draining her ability to be peaceful with herself and her wants and needs and base desires…

Once upon a time, he hadn't cared. In the distant regions of his mind, knowledge of Misao's existence had lived, flourished and occasionally sparked a curious thought. Until the midnight encounter on the streets, he'd never found himself searching for her.

He'd never sought her.

He'd never been curious enough to drag himself into the effort of locating his only child.

He'd never done anything before now and it had been many years.

Many.

And now that he did know of her, what brought him to Misao's childhood home? He could not help but ask himself these questions.

Yet in the same corners of his memory where Misao had lurked for so many years he recalled his own words to his leader, his friend.

"…do you know how Misao feels about our race? She is young and exudes innocence, but the girl is troubled. A boiling hatred lurks beneath that pretty smile -maybe you should find out more about her."

And Hannya, unwilling to be at odds with his conscience and his friend, was here to do just what he had accused Aoshi of not doing.

Who was Misao?

What had these people taught her?

What, he wondered, had they made her into?

Across the sweeping courtyard, he spotted one, an older miko, standing perfectly still. She was looking around, but he knew she was watching him, discreetly, from her place by the temple building.

Did she wonder, who was this stranger lurking at her gate?

There was no direction to go but forward. He would not leave here without his answers…


End chapter 3

Angela6060: Many questions, the Hannya thing I think was explained in this chapter, if not, it appears elsewhere. As for feelings, yeah, those are short. They'll show up at some point too, but there are fics where Aoshi treats Misao very badly, I hadn't considered this one of them though. Maybe it's a matter of perception.

Happyangel123: All will be revealed in time... I haven't really worked out the Soujiro thing, they aren't really friends, they just met. Maybe they'll become friends though, not sure.

Thanks for reviewing all, see you around.