-------------------------------------
For the next several hours Misao swept, mopped and scrubbed things clean. The only bedroom upstairs was now completely devoid of scattered clothing. The bed was made with clean sheets and they now overflowed the hamper. Misao had dragged it down the stairs, it nearly toppling over in a heap but was saved by quick reflexes coming from the occupant of the house. He had been holding a cup of steaming tea in one hand and the other was pressed against the tilted hamper. She'd smiled up at him in thanks as he'd taken the hamper outside for her and placed it on the porch. He'd quietly left, barely even blinking an eye in her direction.
'Right, time to get to work.' Misao voiced to herself as she pushed the sleeves of her light sweater up to her elbows and dragged the hamper down the stairs and around the corner to where a large wooden basin sat. A stool, bucket, a bag of soapsuds and several different scrubbers lay beside it. This was certainly going back to the old days when such luxuries like a washing machine were nonexistent. Lucky for Misao she was well trained in everything thanks to her grandfather and set to work with sorting out his clothing into colours. She quickly placed all his briefs (not without blushing a little) into the black clothing pile along with all his socks. Picking up the bucket Misao made her way to the freshwater lake and dunked the bucket in. She carted it easily back, thanks to all her hiking experience as she'd carried backpacks heavier then the full bucket. After many visits back and forth Misao finally had the large basin filled with water and began with the light coloured clothing first. She dumped them all in, allowing them to soak up the water and suds and sink to the bottom of the basin. Misao took off her sneakers and socks and washed her feet lightly of any loose fluff from her socks. The water was cool, but she braved it and rolled up her trousers till they were situated against her knees. Stepping into the basin, Misao fought off shivers as soapy cold water swished against her shins. Removing her sweater, now dressed in a deep forest green tank top, Misao ditched it on the stool and thrust her hands into the water, moving at a vigorous pace as she began scrubbing the clothes clean.
Without any knowledge on Misao's behalf, she was in fact, being watched by scrutinising green orbs belonging to none other then Aoshi. He was looking out the window in one of the rooms he used as his hideout. It was cluttered with unused sketchbooks, an easel, over twenty paints and several brushes and an old fashioned typewriter. Several empty teacups were strewn about the room and a couple of pots, which were used when making his beloved green tea. Out of sheer fascination that even Aoshi didn't know he possessed, he continuously watched Misao stomp around in the basin, arms swishing to her stomping movements, her lips moving as she sang a song. His eyes couldn't help but stare at her chest, watching her small but plump breasts jiggle lightly as she moved. He was, after all, male. Her long hair was cast over one slender creamy white shoulder draping between the apex at her thighs and the end was damp from being dipped into the soapy water when she bent over to use the scrubbers accordingly. As she was hunched over, hips moving from side to side as she picked up one of his undershirts he usually wore when sleeping to inspect it. For several minutes Aoshi just sat in his chair looking out the window, watching Misao move from the basin to the strong bamboo poles used for drying ones clothes on. Instantly his hands itched for a sketchbook and he picked one up and a pencil and began sketching out the twirling Misao. A light drizzle began to fall and she hadn't cared at all as it began to dampen her black and green clothing. Soap suds at the end of her fingers fell to the wet ground as she continuously twirled around, lost within her own little world.
"Innocent and carefree…" Aoshi couldn't help but murmur to himself as he stared at Misao, eyes darting between her and his sketchbook as he drew her with arms stretched out, her slender back facing towards him, her clothing plastered to her curvy body, trousers still rolled up around her knees. Her face was tilted up to catch the droplets of rain and her long hair draped heavily down her back and over her pert bottom. Aoshi was startled from his sketching when the next time he looked up, Misao had stopped her twirling and her eyes were now locked with his surprised ones. His fingers lost his sketchbook and pencil, not that Misao could see as the window only showed him from his shoulders upwards. His breath caught when she smiled openly at him and waved gaily. He quickly stood from the window and walked away, not sure what that carefree beauty was doing to him.
'What a snob.' Misao grumbled and went back to work, this time quickly finishing off the washing she could before dragging the unwashed items back to the porch when it began to rain harder. She sat on the side steps, watching her soapsuds dribble over the edge of the basin as the rain had begun to wash the beginning of her hard work away. 'I hope it stops soon, so I can finish my work and get the hell out of this gloomy place.' Misao muttered under her breath and jerked in surprise when a fluffy towel was dumped on her head.
"You'll catch a cold." Aoshi spoke as he stared down at her surprised eyes.
'For me?' Misao questioned him, her hands clenching in the fluffiness as she pulled it up to her chin. 'Thank you so much.' Misao murmured as she grinned behind the towel. Maybe he wasn't as snobby as she thought. She stood to her full short height, eyes not breaking from his. 'Do you mind if I change my clothes?' With that question Misao pointed to herself, grabbing her drenched tank top as it was sucked away from her skin. 'You know, change clothes?' She repeated and picked up her backpack, which had was still been sitting outside on the porch and pulled out a blue sarong from it. When Aoshi turned away and walked back inside Misao took that as a yes she could change and followed him in, dripping water all over the floorboards. As he went to the kitchenette, Misao moved to the next room and stepped inside. It so happened to be the very room where she saw him sitting near the window and just looking dazedly out.
Removing her clothing Misao changed into a dry pair of underwear, tied the sarong around her narrow waist and slipped into another tank top, this one black and blue in colouring. She hadn't bothered about a bra this time and threw all her wet clothing into a plastic bag and tucked it back into her backpack. Absently Misao made her way to the window to look over the drenched forest landscape and her eyes instantly went to articles of clothing she had forgotten to pick up.
'Ah crap, my stuff!' Misao voiced in exasperation and stepped back from the window, ready to race out there and save them, but her heel hit something on the ground. Blue orbs gazed down as she stood on the spiral edge of a sketchbook and she picked it up, eyes taking in the pencil drawing.
"Who said you could look at that?" In sheer shock of the way his voice boomed surprisingly over at her, Misao dropped the book and stepped away, backing into the wall beside the window. She hadn't understood what he said, but whatever it was, she knew he was angry and with something she had done. Darting around the desk, gliding her hand down to swiftly pick up her bag, Misao quickly left the room, muttering a hasty apology for unknown reasons as she left. With the door slamming behind her, Aoshi smacked his hand against his forehead and then raked fingers through his scraggly hair. He hadn't meant to sound so rude, but she wasn't meant to see the drawing. Usually he would ask his subjects to pose for him, to get their permission to do so first, but he'd been so overwhelmed with her natural beauty that his hand instantly went for his pencil.
Leaving the room Aoshi went in search of Misao to apologise and found her standing near a small preparation bench in the kitchenette. She had several vegetables on the counter and was furiously peeling and chopping them before placing them into a medium sized pot. His lips parted, ready to voice an apology, but nothing came forth. He stood in the doorway, eyes watching her as she worked away, hair still plastered against her reddened cheeks and hanging heavily down her back. Aoshi brushed his hand on the doorframe and left as quietly as he came.
-------------------------------------
(To be continued…)