A/N: Omg omg OMG! Here it is, the conclusion to the nail-biting cliff-hanger that I promised! Don't worry, there is more to come after this but I hope this satisfies all of your guys' burning curiosity as to what becomes of our beloved Misao! She's definitely hanging between life and death right now so let's see what happens and also, how could this be affecting our usually calm-and-controlled Okashira, Aoshi Shinomori?! Read on, my friends-read on!

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After cleansing the wound, Aoshi took Omasu's place and she began stitching Misao's wound.

Mercifully, Misao had once again fallen unconscious and so was completely unaware of the steady tug and pull on the tender flesh.

Once the wound was closed, Omasu stepped aside and Okon wrapped Misao's arm from her shoulder to her elbow, with clean white linen strips.

Aoshi asked Omasu to make some green tea and miso soup, then he lifted Misao into his arms and carried her to her room.

Laying her down in the center of her futon, he was careful not to jar her too much as he situated her beneath the covers, then pulled them up to her chin and tucking them around her neck and shoulders.

He stood to his feet and silently looked down at her.

She was-still so pale.

A gut wrenching feeling seeped into his veins and he hissed through his clenched teeth.

"Ano, Aoshi-san?"

It was Omasu.

He turned around and observed her mutely.

"Here is the tea and soup-should I-"

"Iie. I'll do it. Thank you, Omasu you may go."

"O-of course." Omasu stuttered, placed the tray down by Misao's bed and then turned to leave.

However she paused at the doorway and tossed a worried look over her shoulder.

Aoshi was still standing rigidly by her bedside, looking down at her with that stoic yet barely-controlled look on his face.

Omasu blew out a breath and quietly left the room, sliding the shoji closed behind her.

She'd never seen Aoshi so terrified in all her life.

# # # #

At midnight, Misao awoke screaming in delerium and Aoshi was the first at her side, barrelling through the doorway and falling to his knees beside her.

"Misao! Misao, it's me. Can you hear me, Misao. Misao?"

Jiya and the others had also been ripped from sleep by the racket and they hurried to Misao's door but they could only watch helplessly as Aoshi knelt by her side, frantically shaking her and calling out her name.

Jiya stepped forward and laid a tentative hand on the young Okashira's shoulder.

Aoshi met his concerned expression with wild eyes and perspiration evident on his furrowed brow.

"Aoshi, she can't here you. She most likely has a fever and his dilerius. Okon?"

He ushered in the other woman who promptly set to work with bathing Misao's feverish brow with a damp cloth.

"Jiya is right. She is fighting a fever, Aoshi-san. It's to be expected, the wound she sustained was quite severe...Omasu has already sent for the doctor though so...he will know what to do. Please don't worry yourself, it's-"

But Aoshi abruptly stood to his feet and his eyes were hardened and determined as he set his jaw. "I will not leave her side. And no one is to enter this room unless I am aware of it."

It wasn't a suggestion and they all knew better than to debate the matter with him.

So true to his word, Aoshi placed himself just outside of Misao's door-and he remained there for two weeks.

Misao fought long and hard with the fever and upon inspection from the doctor, it was concluded that Kagerou's blade had been dipped in some form of toxin which was now attacking Misao's nervous system.

The doctor assured them that it was doubtful that the toxin was lethal, otherwise it would have already run it's course by now. However, he was adament that it was still serious and the fact that Misao was under such a violent fever and even succommed to convulsions, was a sign that her body was working hard to fight the effects of the toxin.

"Will-will my little Misao be-paralyzed?!" Jiya's voice trembled as he looked to the doctor beseechingly.

"I do not know at this point; it is still much too early to tell. However I can tell you that even when she comes out of the fever, her constitution will be severely weakened and it will be some time before her limbs are strong enough to bear her weight-assuming the toxin fails in causing permenant damage. Right now, she needs constant rest and someone to keep a constant eye on her. It might also be beneficial to get her into a hot bath every now and then. The hot water will help in keeping the circulation going in her body as well as her limbs, which is crucial if she hopes of even having a chance at full recovery." He closed his medic bag and stood to his feet, pushing the glasses further up on his nose.

"I don't want you to worry yourselves; your Mackimachi is a strong young thing and I've seen her survive much worse scrapes and bruises than this!" He offered a reassuring smile to the group as he left the room.

But he froze in his steps when he caught sight of the silent stoic form of Aoshi who was seated indian style, just outside the doorway.

The young Okashira said nothing and his steel blue eyes were focused straight ahead as he absently fingered his sheathed Kodachi which rested upright, leaning aginst his shoulder.

The doctor hummed contemplatively to himself as he observed the stoic young man who had not moved from that spot in two weeks.

"Besides, I am quite convinced that your little Misao is in good hands-and being well looked after." And with that, the good doctor took his leave.

The rest of the day passed slowly-and then nightfall enshrouded the Aoiya and it's inhabitants.

Jiya and the rest of the oniwaban sat down to a meal but no one really seemed to have much of an appetite and so the fried rise and fish were mostly idly picked at as each was absorbed in their own troubled thoughts.

As for Aoshi, he made no appearance that night-as usual.

It was about midnight and Aoshi was still seated outside of Misao's door, arms crossed over his chest, head bowed and eyes closed.

But the Okashira was far from sleep and all of his senses were alert and focused on the young woman who slept just beyond the thin rice paper walls.

He could sense everything; her labored breathing that was finally beginning to level out, the rate of her heart beat which grew stronger with each passing day and even the ocassional rustling of bed linens when she turned over in her sleep.

The sounds were miniscule but they were the most soothing balm for the Okashira who up until now, had been going mad with fear and sick with worry over Misao's condition.

At one point, he'd languished in the thought that if she didn't recover...

But then he'd promptly banished it with a painful clenching of his jaw and a defiant his through his teeth.

No. Misao was strong. She was the strongest person he knew. There was no way she would let a wound to the shoulder, be her undoing.

She was far too stubborn for that and at this thought, The Okashira allowed himself the first semblence of a smile, in weeks-although it looked more or less like a mere relaxing of the taught muscles in his jaw.

...But Misao would have seen it as a smile, that was for certain.

His hand came up to wrap around the sheath of his kodachi which was still propped against his shoulder and the Okashira looked up to find Jiya standing nearby observing him with calculating eyes and a gentle smile.

"What do you need, Old man?"

Jiya grunted in response and gracefully fell to a seated position on the floor across from Aoshi, folding his arms across his chest with his hands tucked into the sleeves of his kimono.

"I am merely curious. How it is that you have not once moved from that spot since the day Misao fell ill?"

Aoshi scoffed through his teeth, turning his face away. "Is that really all you came here for, Old man? I would think you'd have better things to occupy your time."

"I am merely stating the fact that you have kept watch over Misao, vigilently and you have never once asked for food, water or even rest! You will exhaust yourself, Aoshi if you keep on like this. And you know Misao would never forgive you if she awoke to find you dead on your feet. Then what good would you be to her?"

Aoshi did not answer, his eyes were trained to some far off place and it looked as though he was becoming lost inside of his own mind.

"I was too preoccupied." He said at last, though it was a hushed whisper that Jiya almost didn't catch.

"Hm?"

"I wasn't fully aware of what was going on around me. I should have been more watchful. More-distrustful." Aoshi went on.

"Aoshi-sama?"

He turned his azure orbs on Jiya's face once again and his was a look of shame mixed with anger and remorse.

"Misao had advised me regarding Kagerou. She told me she sensed discord in her. I should have taken her words more to heart. If I had-then-none of this-this would have never-happened!" He slammed his fist into the floor in an outburst of anger and the tatami splintered from the force.

Jiya was unphased by his angry display.

"You took Misao's words with as much merit as you saw fit. It would have been imprudent to have made a decisive move then, especially when Kagerou had given no obvious hints as to her intentions. I believe you did what you thought was best and that is all any of us can do. We are not gods, Aoshi-sama. We are faced with endless difficult decisions every day-many times, life-and-death decisions are laid before us. We gather intel, information and we educate ourselves based on what we know from experience and we make the best-informed decisions we can. No, they are not perfect but then whoever said humanity is perfect? It isn't. We are flawed in every way. What makes us best at what we do is not denying our flawed tendencies but acknowledging them and training ourselves to work with them. to balance them. This is the what it means to become a true ninja. To become a truly great warrior, one must balance his weaknesses with his strengths. You must never let one outweigh the other; your ki must always be in perfect balance." He stood to his feet then, looking expectantly at Aoshi who seemed lost in thought as he absorbed Jiya's words.

"Misao knows this need for balance better than most. Perhaps even better than any of us. She would die before she even considered casting blame-especially on you. She loves you far too much to see you as anything other than her 'beloved Aoshi' not too mention her loyalty to you as her Okashira will always be unparalleled by any other.

I advise you therefore, do not take the blame for this injury to her. It isn't your fault and if you do, you know as well as I do how you tend to handle your guilt, whether it is warranted or not. You will inevitably push her away, as you've done in the past but this time, I fear she would not be able to recover from it. Beware of my words, Aoshi-sama. I beg that you would heed them."

And Jiya turned on his heel and walked silently away, leaving Aoshi alone in the hall once more.

# # # #

It was late afternoon of the following day, that Misao finally regained consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open but somehow, the simple action of opening her eyes left the young woman feeling exhausted and it felt like there was a physical weight on her eyes as she forced them open repeatedly in hopes to rid herself of it.

After several arduous attempts, she finally succeeded and for the first time in two weeks, she looked about the room. She couldn't move her head very well however so her eyes were only able to scan certain parts of the room and she was unable to tell just what time of day it might be, since the curtains were drawn over her window.

She went to sit up-and was terrified when she could barely even lift her hand!

What was going on and why did she have such a burdensome weight covering her entire body?!

She tried to speak but her mouth was partched and her throat felt sandpapery from lack of use.

Just how long had she been asleep anyway?!

She moved her tongue and was relieved to find that it seemed unaffected by this foreign heavy feeling that plagued the rest of her.

She was about to call out when the shoji slid open and in walked Omasu with a tray of tea.

Seeing the weasle girl with wide eyes, the tray fell out of the older omnitsu's hands and she cried out and ran from the room, calling frantically that Misao had regained consciousness.

Soon, the room was flooded with the faces of her family and it wasn't long before the doctor was sent for and promptly explained to Misao the state of her condition.

At the mention of her possible paralysis however, the young woman was sent into a frightened rigid state of shock and despite much coaxing from the others, the doctor concluded that it was best to just leave her to herself for awhile so she could absorb the news.

Everyone trickled out of the room, the doctor being the last one and once again, his eyes fell on Aoshi who was seated in his usual place, watching the door with focused, guarded expression.

The doctor stopped infront of him. "Maybe I was mistaken before; maybe the best thing for Misao-san isn't to be alone-but to have the right person at her side, perhaps?"

Aoshi's cold eyes shifted from the door and locked onto the doctor.

The older gave him a meaningful look accompanied by a gentle smile before turning and taking his leave.

Aoshi hesitated for a moment, wondering if he really should intrude on Misao at that moment.

But then a muffled sob coming from the room beyond, gave him his answer before he even had time to contemplate.

Standing to his feet, Aoshi stepped quietly inside Misao's room and closed the shoji solidly behind him.

He hadn't seen her in two weeks; he'd been so consumed with worry and frustration over her condition that he'd been afraid to even let himself look at her-for fear of her slipping away and him being powerless to stop it.

But now the time had come.

He stood in the midst of her room and for the first time in what seemed like ages, his steel blue orbs settled on the petite figure buried up to her chin under thick blankets.

Her back was facing him so he couldn't see her face but then another sniffle followed by a poorly-concealed sob sounded from the tiny woman, causing her lithe body to tremble and shiver from the effort.

Aoshi's insides twisted in remorse and pain; her suffering was his suffering and he hated that he could do nothing but comfort her. He would much rather erase all of her pain and heartache, why he'd give up his right arm if he thought it would ease even a small fraction of her suffering!

That was the depth of his feeling for her.

Setting his Saya on the floor quietly, he shrugged off his trench coat and left it draped over the back of a nearby chair as he stepped further into the room.

Misao's back stiffened the moment she sensed a presence in the room.

She knew without even having to look, that it was Aoshi.

But this brought her no relief in her present condition-she didn't want him to see her like this; so weak...

"Aoshi-sama please-I can't-"

Aoshi's footsteps halted. The sound of her voice nearly had him falling to his knees; inspite of himself, at one point he'd feared the worse for her and now he was so relieved beyond words.

"Misao-" Her name fell from his lips like a whispered prayer and an agonizing plea.

"-I can't bear to let you see me-like this-" She choked out, curling into a tighter ball as if to protect herself from his growing nearness.

Aoshi gazed at her cowering before him and his heart tightened with pain that she was so afraid of letting him near.

Misao had never been afraid of him.

"Misao-" He tried again; his voice taking on a more imploring tone as he neared her. "-Please-you've been on-the brink of death-" His throat tightened and his voice became slightly strangled as he uttered the dreaded word but he swallowed hard and pressed on. "You've been very sick for two weeks. You were delierious. You didn't know who any of us were and-I haven't seen you since then. Please, Misao-please let me at least-look at you. Just for a moment."

Misao had never heard Aoshi so earnest, pleading-his voice was edged with so much pain that it brought tears to her eyes.

Slowly-and with great effort-she turned her upper body as best she could(her body still suffering from lingering paralysis) and met his eyes.

At the sight of his handsome face-so drawn with relief, worry, pain and exhaustion, Misao's face crumbled.

"Aoshi-!" And she broke down into tears.

In a flash, Aoshi was at her side and falling to his knees, he gathered the tiny, shaking woman into his arms and held her tightly against his chest.

Overwhelming sobs shook Misao's entire body as all the pent up anger and fear, poured out of her through her tears and her tiny fingers clung weakly but desperately to Aoshi's shirt as she cried into him.

After a time, her tears subsided to ocassional mild bursts and then to tiny sniffles.

Yet Aoshi still refused to release his hold on her and only pulled her closer as he rubbed soothing circles on her back and ran his fingers through her tangled, matted hair.

To Misao, it was bizzare how her hair had gotten so dishevled and she absently wondered why no one had taken the time to brush or rebraid it?

As if reading her thoughts, Aoshi hummed absently and his fingers stilled their combing gesture. "I don't think I've seen your hair in such a terrible state since you were ten." He mused, a slight smile was evident in his voice.

Misao scoffed between her teeth. "You're lucky I can't really move that great right now or you'd have gotten a smack to the head."

She sounded miffed which Aoshi found endearing and the gravely tone of her voice was oddly attractive.

"As if I'd even allow you to strike me." He challenged, amusement seeping into his voice as he resumed combing through her hair, now in an effort to detangle it.

"Seriously? Why do I even bother with you?" Misao grumbled and shook her head but her Okashira only smirked to himself at her ever-present stubborness.

"There. I believe most of the rats' nests have been vacated." He teased in a mock-serious tone that had Misao gritting her teeth in irritation.

But then a little thought fluttered into her mind and the young woman sobered. "Aoshi-I-I could be crippled, couldn't I."

It wasn't a question, he knew that she'd already been seen by the doctor.

"The fact that you are able to have some movement in your neck and part of your upper body-as I have seen-is a favorable sign that you are regaining movement, Misao." He chose his words carefully, not wanting to give her too much hope to hang on.

"But-but my legs. I still could be crippled. I haven't been able to move them-at all."

Aoshi didn't answer as he beheld the frail woman in his arms. She was so strong. The strongest person he'd ever known but her body was tiny-her limbs delicate and petite in their shape and even though she was much stronger than any woman her age and size, even Misao's body had limits that may have been reached.

But Aoshi would not give into that belief-not yet. "Come with me."

He slid his arm under Misao's legs and carefully lifted her up bridal style as he stood to his feet.

Leaving the warmth of her room, he grabbed his trench coat on the way out and drapped it around Misao's body, shielding her from the drafts that passed up and down the dimly lit hall.

"Where are we going?"

Aoshi kept his eyes focused straight ahead. "To the bathhouse."

Misao's eyes widened to saucers. "What?!"

Once outside, the chilly night air bit at Misao's cheeks and nose, giving them a rosy glow as they closed the short distance between the Aoiya and bathhouse. Once inside, Misao's mouth widened to an 'o' when she caught sight of the thick steam floating in the air of the bathhouse, as well as the steam rising from the hot water in the floor-level bath.

"A-Aoshi-s-sama-"

He set her down gently and carefully removed his heavy trench coat from around her body that was only clothed in a thin white, sleeping yukata.

"The doctor said that you would have a much more favorable chance at full recovery if you gently exercised your limbs regularly, had plenty of rest and soaked in a hot herbal bath." Aoshi explained as he unfastened the straps and buckles of his uniform. He stripped down to only his pants and bare feet which Misao was profusely thanking the gods for-but once the material of his shirt slid down his shoulders to reveal his broad, powerful chest, Misao found herself gulping and pleading with the gods to keep her from fainting.

Dispensing his partial uniform onto a chair, Aoshi moved towards Misao who's eyes were frantically darting from his face to the floor and then back again. The burning blush in her pale cheeks did not go unnoticed by him and the handsome Okashira had to hold back a triumphant grin from breaking out on his impassive countenance.

He couldn't help but be thrilled that he seemed to still strongly affect her.

Reaching her side, he picked her up again and then oh so carefully, stepped down into the steaming bath.

Once he'd established his footing, Aoshi then lowered himselfand Misao into the bath, being ever mindful of her shoulder and careful not to jar her.

He seated himself with his back against the wall of the bath, the water reaching to just below his chest, and then he spread his legs apart just enough so Misao could sit comfortable between them with her back leaning against his chest.

But once Misao felt his hands slipping around her waist to pull her back against him, she stiffened and inhaled sharply.

Sensing her uneasiness, Aoshi immediately withdrew his hands from her waist and settled them on her shoulders. "Misao try to relax. I promise-I am not going to do anything."

He waited patiently for her reaction and once her shoulders relaxed, he slowly replaced his hands on either side of her waist and gently pulled her towards him till her back was flush against him.

Then slipping a hand up her arm to her shoulder, he gently tugged her back so she was fully resting against him and then his other hand came and rested soothingly against her forehead as he eased her head back to rest against his shoulder.

Misao settled against him and when the intense heat of the water began to envelope her slightly numb and aching limbs, she sighed happily and reveled in the additional warmth and softness of Aoshi's solid body supporting her.

"That's it, Misao. Just lean on me-let yourself completely relax and just let all the stress and tension in your muscles, evaporate."

His voice was deep and throaty and it had an insatiable richness to it that calmed and soothed her.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she rested more fully against him.

"Arigatou...Aoshi." She breathed sleepily; no doubt the hot bath was making her drowsy.

"Iie Misao-Arigatou gozaimus."

Misao peaked a sleepy eye open, trying to crane her neck in order to look at him.

"Eh?"

"It is I who should be thanking you." He continued as then hand that cradled her forehead began absently caressing her forehead and face.

"You saved my life, Misao."

Misao's lips turned upwards into a smile and she couldn't resist nuzzling her face into his neck affectionately.

"Iie, Aoshi-you don't have to thank me."

"But I do. You nearly gave your life for me-demo I would have never forgiven myself-or her, if you had ('her' meaning of course, Kagerou)."

Misao desperately wished she could embrace him but her arms were still heavy like lead and the petite Omnitsu scowled, frustrated.

So she settled for the next best thing she could think of and turning her head to the side, she pressed her cheek firmly against Aoshi and let her lips lightly brush against his skin so he could feel her smile.

"I know you wouldn't have-but I would have hated for you to bear the blame if something had happened to me, because it would have been my choice, not yours. Honestly, I wasn't even thinking of anything in that moment; whether or not I would live or die was irrelevant to me-"

She felt his arms tighten around her waist and he inhaled sharply through his nose.

She pressed herself further into his arms to comfort him as she contined.

"-because all I could think about was-you. Keeping you safe was and is my duty, yes and I will always be humbled by the honor of keeping your life safe. But that was not the main reason why I fought so hard. I fought hard because I-I wanted and needed to protect you. I didn't care what the cost was, Aoshi and to be honest, all I could see was red. Literally, my vision was stained red and it was like I was looking through a tunnel-and all I saw was you and all I heard was the voice screaming in my head that I had to get to you-that I had to protect you."

"Misao-" He was awe struck at her account of everything she'd felt that night.

It had all been for him-and her valliant fight for him was so much more than out of honor and duty-she had thought only of him-and she had felt only for him.

The Okashira felt hot tears prickling the corners of his eyes and he sqeezed his eyelids shut, trying to keep them at bay. "Misao I-I do not believe that my life is-even worth half of yours!-But I-I cannot tell you what it means to me that you do believe that. But still, even a part of me wishes that you didn't because I know you will never hesitate to put yourself in danger for me and-if anything were to-ever happen to you I-"

He was shaking now and Misao senesed his overwhelming anguish at the thought of losing her.

Her heart constricted painfully, she was desperate to relieve his pain and take away his fear just as he had done for her so many times before.

"Sssh-" She pressed a tender kiss to his shoulder as she snuggled into him. "Hush, my Okashira-don't worry, I'll always be here with you. I promise."

Aoshi let out a shuddering breath when he felt her lips pressing softly against his skin and his arms encircled her as he bowed his head and buried his face in her shoulder.

He breathed her in, pressing trembling lips to her shoulder several times before turning his head and nuzzling her neck with his nose.

Aoshi would hold her to her promise and in turn, he would never again leave her side.

He would never let her out of his sight-and he would never. Ever. Let her go.