On a March morning Misao woke up early, before the sun even rose. She opened her window, watching the gray sky, feeling the cool breeze on her face. She yawned. If I wake up later than this, everyone else will be up too, she reminded herself again and again. This was my plan, and I'm going through with it.

Yawning and stretching, she got her ninja uniform on, braided her hair (now it was long enough to braid) and tiptoed down the hallway, holding her breath (especially near Aoshi's room) making use of her ninja training and walking quieter than a cat across a woolen blanket. Tiptoeing round the engawa, she held her breath, hoping that she wasn't breathing too loud. After all, in a house full of ninja, she thought, there's no such thing as being too quiet.

After what seemed like an age, she finally came around the back, to the door of the small training hall (which Aoshi used occasionally for meditation in the evenings) and slid open the door with a breath of relief. It was empty, and she did not have to explain why she was sneaking into the training hall at five in the morning.

She had been doing this for over two years now, since she had appointed herself the Okashira of the Oniwaban (and things had settled down a little). I have to get stronger. To become a real leader. A worthy leader. Like Aoshi-sama was. I'm not a kid anymore. I'm not going to be a liability, she told herself. 'I appointed myself as Okashira; now I'm going to earn it,' was her mantra.

As far as she knew, no-one was aware of her early-morning intensive training schedule (or at least, if they did know, they weren't making a big deal out of it). And it was for the best. She did not want to be comforted, nor questioned. Misao knew that it was something that she had to do, something she told herself she'd achieve. Even in a time of relative peace, I have to be the best possible leader.

An hour passed, and Misao was practicing a series of kicks, when the door to the training hall slid open. Landing in a crouch, she looked up at the person who was leaning against the doorframe. "Aoshi-sama!" she exclaimed.

Aoshi stood with his arms crossed, wearing his shinobi shozoku instead of his usual green yukata. His icy eyes were impassive. "Continue." He said.

"O-okay…" she said. Now's my time to show off! Misao thought. She launched herself into a spinning kick while simultaneously throwing one of her kunai with a little growl of consternation. The kick could have easily broken someone's neck and skull simultaneously. The kunai impaled itself up to the hilt in the 'forehead' of a straw dummy on the other side of the hall.

"You've greatly improved." Aoshi's low voice sounded next to her ear. "Yet you should be aware of your surroundings. On your guard, as it is."

Misao gasped a little, whipping around and coming face-to-face (more like chest to face) with Aoshi, who still had his arms crossed. She blushed. "O-Okay!" Why didn't I notice him? He's literally two inches away. I need to work on that. And he's two inches away from me. Can we just pause the world at this very moment so I can relive this again and again? Like, I can feel his body heat.

Aoshi took a few steps back until he stood in the middle of the hall. He flicked a beckoning finger. "Come. With all your strength. We will train until you get too tired or can land a hit."

Her eyes widened but she didn't question him. She bounded forward, then leaped into the air, aiming a kick towards his shoulder. Except he wasn't where she thought he was. Misao growled, changing direction in midair, flipping and attempting a hit to his head.

But he wasn't there either.

The next ten minutes, nonstop, Misao spent throwing different hits and kicks at him which he either fluidly dodged or blocked. Breathing hard, her muscles aching, she landed in a crouch, raking her bangs away from her face and rethinking her entire strategy.

"Are you tired?" Aoshi asked evenly. He was breathing evenly, his hair not even ruffled, his face blank.

Misao shook her head stubbornly. "Hell no, Aoshi-sama! There's no way I'm gonna give up just yet!" she grinned brightly. "This is the most fun I've had in a while!"

He nodded, the look in his eyes softening.

This time, when she came at him again, she tried to think ahead, predict Aoshi's moves. If I look like I'm aiming slightly to the left with this kick, Aoshi-sama'll move to the right, yeah? So I'll try to be fast and kick to the right. At least I hope that's how it'll work.

She did not succeed, but she came much closer than she ever had, and as Aoshi swept to the side he gave a nod of approval.

Misao grinned, buoyed with new confidence. What if I try the same thing, except with a punch, and I'll use both fists? I'll jump at him with my left fist, then I'll swing around with my right and left at the same time.

Aoshi had stopped both her fists with one hand, an inch before they made contact with his abdomen, then stepped forward, pinning her against the wall with her arms above her head. "Very close." His voice was a low rumble. "You've improved greatly."

Blushing, Misao looked up into Aoshi's icy eyes, her lips parting and fought to keep her breath even and her heartbeat to maybe beat a bit slower than one hundred and twenty miles per hour. She gasped slightly. His gaze did not lose its intensity, and neither did he let her go. He leaned down, their faces now mere inches apart. "…You're really red. Are you feeling well?"

Misao looked away, biting her lip, her blush deepening. "I…I…" she looked up at Aoshi again, an innocently wide smile spreading across her face, and slowly tapped the side of his shin with her foot. "I landed a hit, yeah?" she winked. She did a peace sign and stuck out her tongue. "I'm feeling good, though."

He stepped back, his expression unreadable. "Indeed."

And in the doorway, someone began to clap. "Bravo, Misao-chan!" exclaimed Okon. "Very well done!" Omasu came up behind her and clapped too.

Aoshi nodded at them, then at Misao. "Tomorrow?" He asked.

"T-tomorrow!"

Then he turned and left.

Walking away from the hall, Aoshi tried to erase the past five minutes from his mind. His impulsiveness and senselessness, Misao's deep sea-green eyes and the light blush coloring her face. That facial expression was not one he was used to, but he could not say he disliked it.

And the triumphant and teasing smile as she winked at him. Why did I do that? Why did I let myself do that? And Misao… What was that? For a moment it seemed as if- No. She was surprised, and took advantage of the fact that I was off my guard. I shouldn't have dropped my guard. Of all people – she… He cut his thoughts off, raking his bangs back with a hand.

He was also annoyed at himself for not noticing Okon and Omasu. The problem with living in a house full of ninja, is that one can be watched at any time.

Like now, for instance.

"Okina." Said Aoshi, not turning around.

"Good morning, good morning." The old man gave a low laugh, sounding (as usual) as if he knew something everyone else didn't (which he probably did).

"Good morning." He replied.

"I see you decided to get some exercise before breakfast." Okina struggled to hold in another laugh.

"Indeed." Said Aoshi stiffly.

"A word of advice; don't let your opponent distract you, Aoshi." He chuckled again, elbowing Aoshi in the side. "Even if that opponent is our cute little Misao-chan." He winked, laughing gleefully (ohoho) and stroking his beard, adjusting the pink bow. "Not so little anymore, though, is she."

"Indeed. I underestimated her." As always, Aoshi's face was impassive, but on the inside, he was exasperated. Was there anyone in this place who didn't see that?

Okina slapped him on the back winking broadly. "Underestimating isn't all you did!" He threw back his head and laughed again. "I wish you luck!"

Aoshi struggled for words that did not incriminate him further. "…You misunderstand."

"Oh no." said Okina. "No, I don't think I do." He sighed, folding his arms behind his back. "Ah young love…" he hummed.

Aoshi raised an eyebrow and continued down the engawa to his room. He's seriously her grandfather?

But once again, his head was filled with thoughts of Misao.

Misao's been training like this for two years. Every morning I can hear her get up and go down to the hall. Is it a simple matter of strength or is there a different reason? I am worried about her, but I do not want to make her feel as if she is incapable. Or does she already feel inadequate as the Okashira of the Oniwabanshu?

She's been extremely busy lately as the Okashira, what with the members of the outposts leaving right and left. Misao doesn't want the Oniwabanshu to disband and I share her feelings on that, even though, personally I would be against her involvement in the group's activities. But now she's the head of the group.

The fact that she's hidden her doubts so well worries me. She acts her usual energetic self, but I can see otherwise. How tired is she really? She hides herself behind a happy smile and a cheerful laugh. But I know she does not want my worry, nor my help. Maybe helping with these early morning training sessions is the little that I can do to assist her.

Okon slapped Misao on the back. "That was well played, Misao-chan!" she lowered her voice. "I can't believe he fell for that."

Omasu looked at Okon, and an unspoken conversation passed between them. "Is that what you think too?" she asked finally after Omasu had raised her eyebrows, rolled her eyes and sent a few meaningful glances at her. "Well that's an interesting development, isn't it?"

Misao looked from Okon to Omasu, then back again. "Eh? What's an interesting development? What do you mean well played?"

"Aoshi-sama's newly discovered lo-"

"Shush!"

"Huh?"

"Ahaha! Nothing, Misao-chan!"

Misao shrugged. "Anyway…" she said. "I'm gonna go get changed."

"And don't forget what the plan is for today!" called Omasu at her retreating back.

Misao flinched. "Uh… Yeah! Sure!"

Later that afternoon, Misao, Okon, Omasu, and Aoshi, who was loaded with the yields of a day's shopping, stood outside a clothing store. "Misao, these are kimono. They're not going to bite you."

Misao paced around the shop, eyeing the piles of cloth. She came closer and poked one, satisfied to see it was soft. "And what do I do with these?" asked Misao, only half joking. "Like, what do you do when you wear it? You can't even kick anyone in it without falling over!"

"You're not supposed to kick anyone in it, that's the point."

Okon sighed. "Misao. You're this old, and you haven't even worn a kimono yet. It's a disgrace."

"Yeah, I'm an onmitsu! I'm always prepared – dressed for battle! This thing… I'll look like… Like…" she stopped, trying to think of what she would look like. "Look, I wore a kimono type-thing once, can I just-"

Okon laughed. "That wasn't a kimono, Misao-chan. That was hakama with a woman's gi top."

"That was a sleep yukata." Said Omasu at the same time.

Misao waved her arms, shrugging. "Close enough."

Omasu sighed. "Just try it! Think of this as your duty as a kunoichi, Misao. You are wearing a disguise of a young woman."

Aoshi raised an eyebrow, saying the first thing he had said during the entirety of the shopping excursion. "She is a young woman."

Okon and Omasu shrugged. "There you go."

Misao blushed. "Aoshi-sama!"

"You'll look good, Misao-chan, we promise." Okon said. "And someone won't be able to keep their eyes off you!" she winked, elbowing Misao in the side.

Misao blushed and shook her head. "That person… Won't even look at me." She said a little sadly.

Aoshi raised an eyebrow, giving Misao a questioning look. "Who?" he asked. His face held no expression, but Misao could understand the implication behind his words: Who do I need to beat up? Who's messing with this little Misao?

Misao went as red as a beet. "No-one… It… It's not like that… Y- He'll not even take one look at me…" she sighed. "It's… Believe me, he wouldn't care…"

Aoshi opened his mouth to say something else, but a call from Omasu and Misao was gone. "Hey Misao-chan!" Omasu took pity on her and waved her over. "Look at this one, do you like it?"

Misao looked at her. "It's pink. With flowers and butterflies. Made for a woman twice my size." Okon rolled her eyes, peering over Misao's shoulder.

Aoshi stood silently in the corner, surveying the store with his eyes half-closed. Suddenly they snapped open and he stepped towards the three women. "I will not pretend to be an expert on women's clothing…" he said. "But what about that one?" he indicated a kimono of rich green, with embroidered pale green flowers artfully scattered over the fabric.

Omasu gave Aoshi a grateful look. "He's right! Misao-chan, this color will bring out your eyes, and, look at this, Misao, it's almost perfectly your size!"

Okon grinned. "I vote yes. And plus, Misao-chan, it's half-price!"

"Why?"

Omasu winced, not wanting to venture into dangerous territory. "You are quite petite, Misao-chan. Most women are a bit… Bigger. Nobody bought this kimono for a long time so the shopkeeper is trying to get rid of it."

Misao groaned. "Why do I have to be so damn short?!"

"That's right, dear." The shopkeeper was an old woman who looked perpetually tired, and had tiny spectacles on the end of her nose. "Finally someone buys the thing! It's been over a year."

Okon handed the money to her. The old lady patted Misao's arm. "It's a very pretty one, dear." She turned to Aoshi. "You have a good eye, young man. Your little girlfriend will be looking very pretty in that…" She walked away into the depths of the shop, muttering; "'I will not pretend to be an expert on women's clothes', indeed." Misao blushed.

Omasu turned to Aoshi. "Since when…?"

Aoshi looked away. "I was fifteen. Infiltration mission. They needed a woman, but no woman was available at the time out of the Oniwabanshu. For the sake of my comrades…" he stopped. "You get the idea. I had to do that several times."

Okon put a hand to her mouth as she gasped. "Oh gosh! I remember that! You were really good at acting that part and you actually looked quite goo-"

There was a loud clearing of the throat from Aoshi. "There is no use in dwelling on the past." He said quickly and sped up his step to catch up with Misao.

Omasu snorted behind her sleeve.

When Okon and Omasu were done with Misao, she was almost unrecognizable. They matched the kimono with a pink obi, and combed Misao's long hair out so it streamed down her back in waves from being braided all the time. Okon had fished out a box of makeup and tastefully highlighted Misao's luminous sea-green eyes, deciding that with her ever-rosy cheeks (and the presence of Aoshi) she needed no rogue.

And then, with a tray of tea, as always, she headed up to Aoshi's room and knocked. "Tea time!" she trilled.

"Come in." Aoshi sat at his desk, reading a book that seemed too thick to be a book (Misao later found out it was a weapons manual).

He looked up, mouth opening to tell her to 'just leave it on the table, please' but then he somehow forgot. Mentally, his jaw dropped. Physically, his face remained completely expressionless as usual, his icy eyes, and nothing else, betraying his captivation. Misao set the tray down and twirled around, her long sleeves fanning out. She grinned. "So?" she asked. "How do I look?"

Aoshi blinked. "…Yes." Then he shook his head. "…Wait. …Could you repeat that?"

Misao shook her head. "It doesn't matter." She tried to laugh. "Honestly, Aoshi-sama, do you notice anything different about me?"

He nodded. "…Yes."

"Okay, that's a start…" Misao said. Then she laughed lightly. "Ah, forget it. I'll either be outside or in my room, if anyone needs me!"

"Ah."

Just as she was sliding open the door, Aoshi finally managed to say something besides monosyllables. "You look good. The kimono looks good on you." He cleared his throat. "…Independent of the kimono you look good too." He cleared his throat again. "By good, I mean beautiful, that is."

Misao whipped around but only saw his back to her as he organized (pretended to organize) his bookshelf. She couldn't see the flustered expression – and if she had stayed for a little longer, she would've seen that he had put a book in upside-down.