"Honestly Misao, don't you think you're taking this whole 'giving him space' a bit too far?"

Misao shook her head adamantly, handing Omasu the bread bowl loaded down with freshly baked rolls. "No, Omasu-san, I honestly don't! Every time Aoshi-sama returns to us, he's always twice as confusing and troubled as the last time but this time? He's just…I can't explain it but for once, I can see why he always spent endless hours alone in the temple, meditating—all those times that I resented him for it and now? I actually wish he'd go back to the temple and stay there."

Omasu eyed Misao carefully as she prepared the salad greens. "Misao—has something—happened between you and Aoshi-sama?"

The eighteen year old girl froze for only a moment as she considered her response. Then turning, she faced Omasu with a troubled expression. "I—I really don't know, Omasu but I do know that I'm not at all r-ready—to d-discuss it." Her voice faltered momentarily and a concerned Omasu took her gently by the shoulders.

"Misao? If he has done something—has Aoshi-sama hurt you?! Because if he has, I promise you, Okina will not tolerate—"

Misao gasped. "Oh no! He's never done anything to hurt me!" She turned away, wringing her hands nervously. "It's just—he's such a confusing, complicated man; I've never fully understood him but I could at least say that deep down, he always had a true heart. But since he's returned I, I'm honestly more confused now than I've ever been as to the matters of his heart—I don't understand him at all."

Omasu nodded understandingly at the young woman who was like a daughter to her. "I think there are very few of us who really can understand Aoshi Shinomori, outside of Okina—there's—there's a depth to that man that is unreachable and even still, there is much darkness there I believe; not darkness of heart but of spirit. Aoshi-sama has been through a great deal and I honestly don't think that a man of his character is able to let go of guilt, pain and suffering very easily; especially the pain and suffering of those at his hand—for him, it is made ten times worse and he's unable to reconcile those demons of his past. He feels the only way to make restitution is—to punish himself so he carries the guilt and pain around like a burden. And believe me Misao, Aoshi-sama may be the strongest man you or I have ever known but even a man of his physical superiority, has a breaking point. And for Aoshi-sama, I fear that breaking point is not something of the physical nature—but of a deeper emotional level; and Aoshi-sama does not deal well with his emotions."

Misao listened intently to Omasu's words and she found truth and sincerity in every one.

"I—I believe I understand what you mean, Omasu-san; truly I do. But that still doesn't solve my present dilemma."

Omasu smiled teasingly. "And what 'dilemma' might that be exactly?"

Misao sighed, offering a hollow laugh. "That's hardly going to get me to spill, if that's in fact what you are attempting, Omasu."

Omasu shook her head. "It's about afternoon…here, take this tea to the temple; I expect Aoshi-sama will be expecting it."

Misao looked from the tray of freshly brewed green tea, to Omasu; uncertainty written on her face. "But—Omasu I—I don't think I can—"

"Take it to him, Misao. I'm not going to pretend to know what is going on between the two of you but I have known you and Aoshi-sama for most of your life; neither of you will be settled until you address this matter between you. And he is your Okashira which means regardless of your personal feelings, he deserves your unquestioned respect and loyalty." Handing the young woman the tray of tea, Omasu turned back to the last preparations to be made for the coming evening meal. "Besides, the last time I took the tea to Aoshi-sama, he was extremely displeased so I will not be making that mistake again; one ice cold glare from him is enough to turn the ancestors over in their graves!"

Misao couldn't hold back knowing laugh as she strode out the back entrance to the Aoiya. When her feet met the dusty ground leading up to the temple, she halted her steps, her eyes gazing apprehensively to the distant summit where she knew the temple—and Aoshi-sama—waited for her. Her hands began to tremble, causing the tea china to rattle; she closed her eyes and willed her hands steady and her nerves still. Ocean eyes fluttered open and narrow shoulders set in resolve as she slowly made the one mile climb to the Buddhist temple.

# # # #

Aoshi sat cross-legged and poised before the Buddhist shrine. His eyes were closed and hands steepled meditatively as he worked with his breathing to clear his mind. Meditation had proved much more difficult as of late than it had ever been before; no matter how many long hours he spent in this solitary state, his thoughts were in a constant struggle between control and Misao. Their second encounter had been only a week ago but it burned in his memory as clear as yesterday. He fought with himself on losing control and allowing his reckless emotions to get the better of him.

It was humiliating.

Shameful.

Unacceptable.

But he couldn't rationalize away the simple fact that Misao had now become the sole source of his greatest need and his deepest burning desires.

And this only served to anger him more.

He'd always been a man of complete restraint, composed, controlled and detached from any feeling or thought that made him vulnerable. It was how he'd been trained and how he was raised. How could such a principle which had always been a solid cornerstone in his life, suddenly be overthrown in a single moment of weakness? How could one heated encounter with one woman suddenly be so pivotal?

His troublesome thoughts didn't have long to agonize over this dilemma as the sound of slow and hesitant footfalls reached his ears.

Azure eyes flew open and flashed to the temple entrance.

Ivory fabric rustled against delicate curves as petite feet shuffled across the tatami floorboards.

A curtain of midnight tresses veiled a pair of demure, hesitant oceanic eyes as Misao silently approached Aoshi's meditating form.

Her eyes were trained on the floor before her as she knelt before him and placed the tea tray within his reach.

Withdrawing her hands and clenching her fingers together, she placed them in her lap, carefully keeping her head bowed and her eyes downcast. "Your tea—Aoshi-sama."

His heart constricted at the soft, hesitant timber in her voice. She seemed so timid and subdued—so opposite of what she had been only a week before, it somewhat unsettled him but he pushed the thought aside and took this rare moment to study her.

She was simply dressed; nothing more than a modest ivory kimono with a plain beige obi and sash wrapped tightly around her waist. Her hair was pulled into lose fishtail braid that hung over her shoulder. Her bangs which were always in disarray were swept haphazardly across her forehead with the ends tucked behind her ear. They always came lose however, no matter what she did to tame them and they'd stray to falling in her eyes and around her face which always drove her mad; Aoshi nearly smiled at the memory of her when she'd been nine and had taken a pair of shears to her bangs, chopping them off until there was nothing more than an unsightly set of uneven sprigs in their place. She had declared ardently that they were inhibiting her abilities to focus on her training and that 'a ninja's training was much more important than his appearance.' Aoshi and the others had had a good fit of laughter over the young girl's reasoning and from that day on, he knew that she would be the most devoted and skilled member of his ninja clan.

Looking at her now, there were so many aspects of that little girl that had faded away or were buried deep inside and only made appearances when she was provoked or hurting.

He looked at her now however and saw a woman who was neither provoked nor hurting but a woman who was determined to hide away inside herself and shut everyone else out—especially him.

"I am pleased to see that you have returned to your duties at the Aoiya."

Misao made no reply, save for a subdued 'mhm.'

He eyed her closely, but she made no attempt to meet his gaze. Instead, she shuffled forward on her knees and proceeded to pour his tea without as much as a sideways glance at him. When she had finished, she set aside the teapot and retreated back from him to her previous kneeling position.

He made no remark however as he took the small cup to his lips and sipped the sharp, warm liquid. Green tea was his most favorite drink and especially when winter began to set in, its steaming warmth offered him much physical comfort.

Just then, he was mildly startled when he heard the sound of rustling fabric and turned to find Miso standing to her feet, her head still slightly bowed. "I will return for the tray later when you have retired." She turned to leave and he was about to let her do so but then her oceanic orbs ventured upwards and finally met his eyes momentarily.

But that moment was all it took and suddenly, he was once again at the mercy of her unwitting charms and her bewitching beauty. "Wait."

Her steps halted at the sound of his deep rich voice and she couldn't help but turn back halfway and look down at him with an air of questioning wonder.

For a span of three minutes, Aoshi said nothing and only held her gaze for as long as he dared. Her eye lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blinked a few times but her gaze never once wavered from his; she held his eyes fast with hers, waiting for him to speak.

He wracked his mind for some decent plausible excuse to make her stay but came up with nothing.

He was dumbfounded and at a loss for many words.

Save one….

"Stay."

Her pink lips parted and he heard the tiniest intake of breath as her pale cheeks flushed just a hint of red.

He smiled inwardly. That had to be a good sign. If she had absolutely no inclination or desire to remain in his company, she would have acknowledged so immediately. Could it be that she had secretly been longing for his presence and nearness just as he had been in want of hers?

The possibility sent his heart trembling with excitement but before he allowed his emotions to once again get carried away, he stilled himself and determined to focus solely on this moment.

"Please. Stay."

Misao turned towards him fully, her cheeks flushing a little brighter when she met his steady gaze. "If—if that is what you wish, Aoshi-sama."

It almost sounded like a question—like she needed or hoped for a confirmation that her presence was in fact something he desired. This only proved to buoy the young Okashira's spirits and feeling more emboldened, he stood to his feet and held out his hand towards her. "It is my wish—and desire that you remain with me at least for a few moments."

The look in his dark blue eyes was one of honesty—but there was also the shadow of smoldering heat reflected in his azure gaze and this both intrigued and frightened her. She had already been a party to Aoshi's 'heated' side and a big part of her was very leery of him for that reason. But she couldn't deny the burning curiosity she felt since discovering this part of him; regardless of how unsettling and frightening it was, it also held an appeal to her that was sharper than the tongue of a white hot flame and she couldn't resist the temptation to venture further. So, in keeping with her 'idle curiosities' she disregarded her better judgment and took his hand.

His heart nearly leapt with joy as her slender fingers wrapped around his, accepting his invitation. It was a small gesture, but the implications of it held deeper meaning for him as he let her down gently to the place beside him. Once the two were settled, a comfortable—if somewhat companionable—silence set in as they watched the golden sun as it set in the west, its golden rays reflecting across the slowly darkening sky.

"The sun is setting." Misao spoke softly as her eyes drifted along the expanse of the horizon. "I've always felt the view from here is the most beautiful—I used to come here a lot back when—" she stopped short, remembering where she was and whose presence she was in.

Aoshi waited for her to continue but at a glance, he found her eyes downcast again and most of her face hidden behind the curtain of bangs brushing against her cheekbone.

He sighed. He knew what she had been about to say; how could he be ignorant of the pain she'd felt at his sudden departure all those years ago? Of course she would venture here in those moments; this was the place he had always taken her to when she was just a child, a place of peace and solitude that they had once shared together. It only made sense for her to seek consolation and comfort here during his time of absence. Still, he couldn't swallow the bitter taste of guilt every time he looked at her and it was even worse when she was like this; her quiet and withdrawn demeanor only served to sharpen his sense of guilt and regret. He only hoped to whatever god that existed, that he wasn't too late to make amends.

"I should not have left you alone for so long. It would have been better if I had at least left one of the others to look after you while I was away—H'annya perhaps; you were always especially close."

She turned to look at him, surprised at his admission that leaving her behind and alone had been a mistake. What was coming over him? One minute, he's flying out of control and possessing her with heated kisses and the next, he's apologizing for leaving her alone and actually admitting that he was wrong?

"This is becoming far too much to handle at once!" Misao lightly massaged her temple, shaking her head. "I don't think I'll ever understand him." She spared him a look just then, but the young Lord's azure eyes were affixed far off in the distance and he didn't appear to notice.

"There's—there is no need for you to explain yourself, Aoshi-sama—you were doing what you thought was best for me; I'm not going to pretend that I wasn't upset but I was a child, I didn't understand. And besides, you were still quite young yourself; how could you be expected to carry such a huge responsibility as an eight year old, I mean honestly? I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did—I know I can be quite the terror." She let out a soft giggle just then, pressing her fingertips to her lips.

Aoshi stared at her, amazed at how lightly she spoke of her past abandonment; it couldn't have been easy for her and even now, he was certain her heart still ached because of it. Yet here she was, laughing at the memory and even offering him a gentle smile in response.

"I'm certain you always did the best you could, Aoshi-sama—and I wouldn't trade those years I had with you and the others, for all the happiness in the world!" She smiled brightly, her eyes leaving his and looking once more to the sun that had nearly set. "I can't imagine myself ever being happier than I was in those moments; they were the best years of my life." She turned to him again but this time, her blue-green eyes were misting and her voice trembled ever so slightly when she spoke. "I will always be grateful to you, Aoshi-sama; you took me in and gave me a home and a family when I had none—if it wasn't for you, I—"she couldn't speak anymore, her tears were too great and the overflow of gratitude was too much for words. "—Arigato, Aoshi-sama—"

She bowed her head just as the tears spilled over and his heart constricted with a mixture of guilt and amazement at her words. He felt he didn't deserve such kindness and understanding from anyone, least of all her whom he had hurt the most. Yet he felt a sense of great relief and warmth akin to deep affection spread even further throughout his being. She had no idea how deeply her words affected him—or how quickly and unwittingly she was stealing more and more of his heart. A part of him didn't like to admit it but that part was vastly becoming smaller and smaller as this young woman who had been in his life for so long, replaced the darkness of his soul with her brilliant light.

Hearing her tears, he allowed himself the briefest of smiles as he reached out and patted her head affectionately. "Now that's enough, my little Misao—no more of your tears. There is no need for tears any longer."

She gasped and looked up at him, remnants of tears spilling down her porcelain cheek.

"Now come, it's late; we must return to the Aoiya before nightfall. It isn't wise to be out alone in the darkness needlessly; one leaves himself vulnerable to enemies in such situations." Reaching down, he took her hand and helped her to her feet. Carrying the tray under one arm with the tea cups and kettle safely tucked away in his inner coat, Aoshi lead the way out into the fast-approaching darkness.

# # # #

The 1 mile walk back down the mountain seemed longer than usual; the two continued their slow, steady trek in silence with Aoshi leading and Misao following at a respectful distance of two paces behind. It was customary for the Lord of a ninja clan to walk out in front with his followers always keeping a respectful distance of 2-3 paces behind him. This was something Misao hadn't adhered to very much when she was young for she was only a child and didn't understand such things. However, as she grew older, she began to see how the others around her treated Okina when he was Okashira and now that Aoshi had taken over the role of Okashira, she was determined to treat him with the same dignity and respect that Okina had received.

Just then, the full moon made its brilliant appearance in the sky and Misao noticed how the celestial glow cast her and Aoshi's shadows dancing against the rock face that marked the path. For a long moment, she was mesmerized by the striking difference between them; Aoshi's shadow depicted his true form in complete perfection—towering stature and muscular imposing strength. Hers on the other hand—though true to her form as well—showed in drastic contrast; a petite visage of delicate curves and certainly much less impressive in stature and strength. She wasn't lacking for she was indeed strong for a woman of her size and age but of course, she would never come close in comparison with her mighty Lord. Just then, her eyes drifted from their shifting silhouettes to the broad back of the man before her. His steps were deliberate and steady, his left arm with the tea tray tucked beneath it, held firmly to his side as they pressed on further down the mountain path. Her gaze fell to his right arm which hung at his side, glove and armor-clad hand swung behind him just the slightest bit, at every step. She watched his hand then.

Just his hand.

His wrist, palm and the back of his hand were all covered in durable clothe, which was then layered with even sturdier protective armor, leaving only his fingers bare.

She looked down at her own delicate palm and fingers, clutched to her chest then back up again at his hand. For a fleeting moment, she wondered what it would feel like to have his long fingers wrap around hers, pressing her tiny palm against the wide expanse of his warm roughened one. One thing's for certain, in this nipping mountain air, the warmth of his skin wrapped around hers would certainly be a welcomed relief; even now her fingers were becoming clumsy, stiff and numb with cold.

For a brave moment, she ventured to reach out her hand and perchance take hold of his. However, she'd only stretched out her dainty fingers half-way when her mind caught up with the fervent pitter pat of her heart and she thought better of it. Feeling foolish for having indulged in such a bold and shameful thought, she withdrew her hand, her fingers curling in on her palm forming a tiny fist that she pressed to her bosom. "How could I have been even considering taking such a liberty like holding his hand—and without permission? Ugh! Honestly, Misao you are so stupid!"

She inwardly chided herself. She was allowing her feelings to get the better of her again; Aoshi was slowly seeping back into her heart and the realization that she was once again swooning before him—and so easily—was enough to sicken her to the core. She was half-way through a mental vow to forswear her 'ridiculous attachment' to him once and for all when suddenly, she felt long slender fingers grasp her hand, wrapping themselves around her fingers and wrist altogether. A warmth spread through to her arm and radiated all the way up to her shoulder, neck and finally to her cheek where it resided in a flushing rosy hue. Her oceanic orbs snapped to her hand that was now wrapped in the black gloved-and-armor-clad hand of Aoshi-sama.

Her breathing hitched.

Her heart constricted and tightness coiled deep in her throat as she attempted to swallow past the growing lump of emotion. Her eyes flickered from their joined hands to what she could see of Aoshi-sama's profile that was mostly enshrouded in shadow, concealing his deep azure eyes.

She opened her mouth.

Then closed it.

And then opened it again.

For a few brief seconds, nothing came out—until finally, "Ah—A-Aoshi-Sama?" It came out somewhere between a weak whisper and a pathetic whimper but she could have cared less, all she could think about was her wild heartbeat and Aoshi's warm, strong hand wrapped tightly around hers, pulling her along a little closer behind him.

He turned his head to look at her and she caught sight of his eyes for a moment—she thought she saw the ghost of something likened to a smile sparkling just behind the icy azure irises as he spoke softly but firmly to her. "It's darkest here—stay close."

His eyes stayed with her as if waiting for a response and he seemed assured when she in turn offered the smallest of smiles, accompanied by a soft blush that was not lost on him and a gentle "Hai(yes)."

He nodded in approval. "Good—don't let go." With that, he squeezed her hand gently, as if reassuring himself that she was still there and when he felt her fingers tighten around his, his soul ignited and he felt her warmth spread through his entire being.

When they had finally reached the Aoiya, he found himself refusing to relinquish her hand until he brought her back to the door of her room.

Even then, as she turned a still-flushing face to him, thanking him for accompanying her home and 'keeping her safe', he was still opposed to letting her go just yet.

"Arigato, Aoshi-sama—It's been a long time since I've watched the sunset like that; I'm grateful you chose to share it with me."

He felt a sharp intake of breath as he watched her eyes soften when they met his, melting his very soul with their bright and radiant depths. Her fingers began to loosen from his ever so slightly and instinctively, he tightened his grip in the slightest measure.

She seemed to notice; her eyes widened marginally as they shifted from their joined hands to his eyes—and then for a split second, to his lips.

His self-control began to wane.

He could feel it.

Every bone in his body ached.

Every fiber began to vibrate and tremble as his senses became sharply aware of her touch.

Her scent.

Her nearness.

Her warmth.

Suddenly, her fingers slipped from his grasp and she turned towards her room.

Just as her fingers took hold of the shoji, sliding it a third of the way open, his hand made a quick deft movement, and slid the shoji back in its place with a solid thud.

Misao's lips parted.

She gasped.

Her eyes flew to his face.

Bewildered and surprised.

She saw his dark Azure stare begin to smolder.

He drew out long, labored breaths as the muscles in his jaw tightened.

He was fighting.

Fighting for control.

Fighting his passion.

And she knew it.

She could see it in his eyes for it was plain, raw and unmasked.

Her heart constricted and she longed to take him into her arms and console his troubled mind that was obviously at war with his heart—though she wasn't at all certain what his heart and his mind were struggling against?

Her brows knitted together in concern and she took a step towards him, resting a gentle hand on his chest and looking earnestly into his eyes. She could sense he was fighting harder—and perhaps losing but for some reason, she couldn't tear her eyes away from him or get her feet to obey her command to move!

She felt herself being drawn in towards him—standing on her tiptoes, she closed the space between them and hesitantly pressed trembling lips at the curve of his jawline, just below his ear.

Aoshi's Jaw tightened beneath her lips; outwardly he was composed well enough but inwardly, he was damn near coming apart at the seams. Her lips pressed against him a bit more firmly and then she pulled away the next moment.

"Misao—"

"Goodnight—Aoshi."

No formal 'sama' followed, only his given name rolled sweetly from her lips and with that, she slid open the shoji door of her room, knelt to the floor and slid it closed softly behind her.

Aoshi stood frozen in the hall, his eyes fixed to her door which was now fully closed, barricading her within safe walls and out of his sight. She was now completely separated from him and his heart, mind and body all cried out in unified protest.

Suddenly, his legs weakened and he leaned his full weight heavily against the wall, his palms pressed to either side of the doorframe. He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in a deep, drawn out exhale.

"I—I cannot bare this—much longer." He gasped unsteadily, his arms beginning to shake as adrenaline pumped through his veins and his heart beat swiftly.

Azure eyes began to smolder as passion and desire began to resonate deep within.

"…Misao…"