Misao looked at herself in the mirror; she cringed.
Why did I ever let gramps and Okira talk me into wearing this ridiculous thing?
She was dressed in an oceanic blue-green geisha kimono that hugged her waist and hips snuggly while the V-neckline hung just off her shoulders and the lower portion flowed down and away from her upper thighs, cascading to the floor. It was tastefully revealing but somehow, Misao felt like she was completely naked! She had only just recently begun wearing kimonos within the last year but all of them had been very simplistic in style; certainly nowhere near this extravagant and she'd certainly never showed this much skin up top.
Her hair was in a low side ponytail, luscious black locks flowing over her shoulder and reaching a few inches past her waist. She'd put on a light dusting of blush on her cheeks and Okira had lined her eyes with a layer of coal, making her oceanic orbs pop.
"Misao!" Okira called to her from the other side of the shoji. "Please tell me you're ready? The guests are all here and we're waiting for you!"
Misao nodded, mustering up every last bit of ninja courage she had and proceeded out to the hallway—no matter what, she was going to enjoy this day, regardless of being dolled up in a ridiculous, tight-fitting kimono; this was her day after all and it was time to stop longing for the past and useless hopes and start living in the present and for the future.
# # # #
Aoshi Shinomori caught the sight of the Aoiya in the distance. It was late in the evening but the moonlight illuminated the deserted street before him and the outlines of the wholesome inn were bathed in its pale glow. He could scarcely believe that he was retracing his very steps from two years ago but the letter from Okina, beckoning him to return had reached a deep part somewhere inside him—a part of himself that he'd locked away for so long—and he felt at peace enough within himself to return to this city once again.
Reaching the gate, he felt the cold iron beneath his fingers as he gripped the latch and the familiar clink and click echoed in the night air as he turned it and entered the familiar outer courtyard. The windows were glowing in a yellow warmth as lively music and voices drifted out from inside. The door opened and Okina himself stood out on the engawa and spotting the tall imposing figure of Aoshi, the old man clapped his hands together in excitement and went to meet him.
"Aoshi!"
"Okina."
"Welcome home at last, my boy."
Aoshi's face was schooled in its typical cold seriousness but there was a difference in the young man's steel blue eyes that told Okina he had gained a small measure of peace within his soul; Okina trusted that the rest of Aoshi's heart and mind would be restored in time; he hoped tonight would be the first step towards that restoration.
"I see that you are very full this evening."
"Oh it's only a small get-together in honor of Misao's eighteenth birthday."
Aoshi's eyes widened marginally, his lips parting only slightly as it dawned on him just how long it had been. "I remember her birthday but—I hadn't realized that it had that long."
Okina nodded in understanding. "Time passes quickly when one is on a journey of soul-searching. And time seems to pass even more quickly when one is alone."
"Aa."
"Well please Aoshi, come in and rest; I'm sure you must be quite exhausted after your long journey."
"I won't stay long; I don't plan to stay very long, Okina and I'd prefer to sleep at the temple if you don't mind."
The old man gave him a quizzical side glance. "Well, if that is what you wish; although we have plenty of room here—"
"I would rather have more time to myself; you understand."
Okina nodded but inwardly he cringed. I wonder why he took the trouble of returning if all he was going to do was hibernate at the temple again—oh Misao is not going to like this at all.
The two men entered the Aoiya just as the guests were all crowded around Misao singing wishes and blessings upon her.
Misao's eyes sparkled as she met the smiling faces of her family and friends crowded around her but a pair of steel blue eyes collided with her oceanic ones, the smile faded from her lips and her eyes glazed over with a mixture of shock and bewilderment.
Aoshi met the familiar oceanic blue-green eyes—but the face they belonged to seemed so foreign to him; no longer rounded and wide-eyed with wonder and innocence, this face held an appearance of blossoming womanhood portrayed in the pink flush of the cheeks, the delicate curve of the chin and the slanted almond-shaped eyes that no longer held the awed gaze of an innocent child. These eyes belonged to a strong, beautiful woman who was no longer the innocent girl he'd left behind and for the first time, Aoshi Shinomori was faced with an adversary he had no idea how to defeat.
Misao could scarcely believe she was staring at the same steel blue eyes that had plagued her dreams for the past two years. But her surprise was short-lived as the weight of everything crashed down on her and surprise turned to pure rage. Without a word, she marched over to where Okina and Aoshi stood and with every last ounce of strength, swung her fist at him as hard as she could.
It connected soundly with the corner of Aoshi's jaw, the force surprising him and the tall muscular ninja stumbled several feet backwards and lost his balance.
The guests gasped at the violent outburst and crowded towards the entrance where Aoshi had been consequently dispensed out onto the engawa where he was sprawled flat on his back.
"Makimachi Misao!" Okina shouted indignantly.
Misao—ignoring the older man's warning—marched purposefully through the crowd outside. She stopped just a few feet away from Aoshi who had now managed to sit up but was still stunned from Misao's brazen assault; he held his jaw in his gloved hand and gazed up dumbfounded at Misao. Her heaving chest, flaring nostrils and the fire flashing in her eyes clearly portrayed the burning fury that lurked just below the surface and for the first time in his entire twenty-eight years, Aoshi Shinomori feared for his life.
"Misao…"
The deep timber in his voice struck her; she had been without that voice for two years and even though she trembled on the inside, she was determined to remain strong. She refused to let him make her weak again. She'd spent ten years idolizing him, bending to his every whim, worshiping the ground he walked on.
No more. This time, he's gonna get what he deserves and that's nothing.
"Don't. You. Dare. 'Misao' me. Two years. Two years you've been gone and then you show up here—" She looked at Okina but the older man only shook his head, disappointment evident on his face as he turned away; he had hoped Misao had moved past this but apparently she had much more growing and maturing to do.
"How dare you." Her voice faltered just the slightest and her oceanic eyes began to glisten.
"You have no right." And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked back through the aoiya main room and out the back entrance.
There was only one place she would go and both Aoshi and Okina shared a knowing look; the back courtyard not only housed the gardens but also the long one mile path that lead up the side of the mountain to the temple. Without a word, Aoshi stood to his feet, turned and followed after Misao, vanishing out the back entrance and into the night.
# # # #
The night was calm, airy and fresh; stars twinkled brightly above, Crickets chirped in harmonious sync and fireflies buzzed glowing amongst the trees, underbrush and grass as crisp, angry footfalls could be heard echoing loudly through the night mountain air.
Misao was already over half-way to the temple; her building anger fueled her steps into an impressively fast pace and before too long, her eyes caught sight of the first outlines of the modest temple, nestled away in the grove of cherry trees. The moon was full and bright and its crystal bright rays bathed the entrance to the temple in ethereal pale moonlight.
She reached the temple steps and momentarily leaned heavily against the tall pillars that supported the engawa. Heavy puffs of air could be seen in the chilly night air as Misao gasped heavily, trying to catch her breath. The one mile hike had left her exhausted physically but her previous anger had only ebbed away marginally.
"How dare he! How can he just show up here after all this time and act like—like—ugh! I will never understand him and honestly at this point, if I never saw or heard from him again, it would be too soon!" She punctuated this with a swift kick to the bottom step and the wood of the rise splintered from the brute force, splitting the soft silence of the evening. She huffed angrily and stomped up the steps and entered the temple, leaving a string of angry curses—and Misao never cursed—'how dare he's' and 'the nerve's' in her wake. She entered the large open meditation room where the modest shrine of Buda stood at the front and she stood before it, exhaling deeply.
"Why—why did you have to bring him back? I don't understand; I prayed and begged you…so many times when I was a girl, to bring him home. I begged you to open his eyes so he could see how much I felt; that he belonged here with me. But you never answered. And now, just when I've finally been able to let go of the stupid ass and move on with my life, you decide to bring him back?!" She clenched her fists and her petite, slender body began to tremble—tears burning at the corners of her eyes. "It isn't fair! How could you do this to me?! What did I ever do to deserve this?!" She screamed as hot angry tears spilled over leaving wet trails down her pale cheeks and smearing the carefully painted coal eyeliner. Catching sight of an old clay vase sitting on the corner table nearest the shrine, Misao grasped it and hurled it angrily at the statue of Buda, an angry scream tearing through the air. The clay collided and shattered into a thousand shards but Misao's anger wasn't in the least bit sated. Slumping to the floor defeated, she buried her face in her hands and allowed the strangled sobs to overtake her.
Aoshi stood just outside the temple entrance, catching the loud crash of the vase as it shattered into pieces against the shrine of Buda. Then the sound of rustling fabric and strangled cries reached his ears and Aoshi shuddered as a stab of sharp guilt penetrated his heart.
He was the cause of this; he knew only too well of the power he possessed to tear Misao apart and reduce her to this—he had naively hoped to avoid it, but clearly that hope was a foolish one indeed. Unstrapping his Kodachis sheath, he left the weapons leaning against the porch railing, removed his shoes and ducked silently into the temple.
# # # #
Misao sensed a presence entering the temple but refused to even acknowledge it as she continued to sit alone, her tears continuing to fall.
"Misao." The deep rich timber was unmistakable.
Misao huffed a frustrated sigh as she furiously brushed a few tears away with the back of her arm, and stood shakily to her feet.
"Misao." The voice called out to her again, firm and solid. She could sense a lecture coming and she laughed bitterly, turning around to face him.
"Oh that's just perfect; of course you're here right now!" She shouted sarcasm thickly lacing her agitated tone.
Aoshi remained silent as he observed her; his face schooled into a calm, cold mask that only proved to infuriate Misao even further. "You know I never would have guessed you'd come back—I spent a lot of time hoping you would but I wasn't stupid enough to actually expect it or believe it. And after a time, I actually got to the point where I didn't want you to come back. And I thought 'finally, I'm free I can go one with my life without living every painful waking moment wishing, hoping and praying that Aoshi will magically reappear! And then—then after all that time; when I just finally got to the point where I can breathe again without that terrible ache in my chest—here you are and I just—I can't take this anymore!"
Aoshi's expression remained unchanged but inside he was warring with his heart and his mind. So many emotions plagued him all at once; surprise, regret, elation, guilt, passion—they all muddled together and he struggled to distinguish one from the next. He wasn't yet used to these strong feelings that sharpened his soul like a knife cutting through pliable clay. He felt his breath quicken at the sight of Misao standing before him in the most breath-taking display of beauty he'd ever beheld in her, yet his heart constricted sharply at the sight of the tears streaking her alabaster cheeks and his throat tightened at the sound of utter despair and anger in her voice that had once been always so sweet like a spring breeze caressing his face.
But he betrayed none of this in his outward manner; he had to remain steady and strong like a mighty rock, he wasn't ready yet to divulge how he felt; hell, he couldn't even fully reconcile what he felt to himself! There was no way that he could possibly begin to explain to Misao—
"—you could have just stayed away. Heaven knows with every single time that you've left—which by the way there aren't enough fingers on my hands or toes on my feet to count how many times you've done just that—left without a word—no—more like abandoned us! It seems like you prefer that because otherwise, you wouldn't feel the need to do so every goddamn minute. So honestly Aoshi, tell me this just explain to me—if you at all possibly can manage before deciding to up and leave again—explain to me just why on earth you would decide to just show up out of the bloody nowhere, now? Why not just stay away! You prefer loneliness to being around family and God forbid, people who actually love and care about you, so why not just stay away do yourself and the rest of us a favor and stop leaving a trail of damage, no explanations and heart break in your path and just leave!"
In a split second, Aoshi was across the room and sweeping the seething young woman up in a crushing embrace. Misao's blue-green eyes widened in complete surprise and a gasp escaped her lips as she felt herself being lifted off the floor and pressed soundly against a broad and solid muscled chest. She blinked twice before her mind caught up and registered what was happening; surprise turned to furious desperation. With all her strength she fought against Aoshi's arms as they endeavored to pull her even closer; she kicked wildly and her tiny fists pummeled his chest furiously as an envoy of fresh tears ensued. "No! I don't care what you say or what you do—I'm not going to forgive you—I'll never forgive you!—you're hateful, I can't stand the sight of you—let me go, Shinomori, let me go!—Aoshi-samaaaaaa!"
For a solid ten minutes, Misao continued on in the same manner; ferociously fighting against the man she had loved all her life, with every ounce of strength in her.
And Aoshi never once attempted to restrain her onslaught—he only held her closer as fit after fit of tears poured down her cheeks, soaking the sleeve of his long beige trench coat. After a few more moments, Misao—exhausted from her fight—finally sagged her full weight against Aoshi, her eyes were red and puffy from crying and every muscle in her body ached. Before long, Misao's soft, steady breathing could be heard as she fell into a fitful sleep in Aoshi's arms.
"—Misao—"her name fell in a soft whisper from his lips as he reached tentative fingers to brush the unruly bangs back from her forehead. She looked so fragile and innocent yet life had clearly left its mark on her countenance, a mark that was far too harsh for someone so young and full of life like Misao. Sliding an arm underneath her legs, Aoshi scooped her effortlessly into his arms, bridal style and carried her back down the mountain path that led to the Aoiya.