Disclaimer: None of the RK characters are mine. However, the plot and
original characters are.

Author's Note: Hello minna-san!! I cannot believe it's been so long
since I've written any fanfiction, let alone updated this story. My
exams are over and hopefully the most gruelling part of my Honours
course as well. I swear I now know what it means to be "buried by work"!
It was an extremely difficult and trying time, in every aspect, not just
intellectual. But it's almost all over now and happily enough, the
writing bug has been nibbling at me again. I still feel quite rusty and
don't know whether my writing is up to standard. This is a tentative
effort. Please review and send me your criticisms and comments so that I
can improve (maybe rewrite this chapter. Pls. tell me if I'm overdoing
the angst, I suspect I am) and get more ideas flowing.

A huge ARIGATOU to everyone! :O) It's so good to be back!



Chapter Ten: Promise


Outside, the day was drawing to a close, the evening sun turning a soft
crimson shade even as the moon made its first appearance in the east,
the pale silhouette of a pearl, cool and distant. Misao sat quietly by
the window. To the average passer-by who happened to glance up, she
looked like a pretty young girl who might have been daydreaming about
what the evening had in store for her.

..."Sumanai Misao..."

The smell of blood and death had been overwhelming, yet his words had
stunned her more than anything else. "I'm sorry," she whispered,
repeating his words. She knew better than to think that Aoshi-sama was
sorry for killing that man, especially since it meant saving her life.
No, he was sorry that she had to see him kill, that he had exposed her
to death. Only once before had she seen him like that, kodachi bloodied,
standing over Jiya's bleeding body while she stared on in numb horror.
That was the beginning of the end of her idyllic daydreams of a gentle
quiet Aoshi who could do no wrong in her eyes. But still, even then...
"I always wanted you to come back, to come back to me. I still want you
to come back to me."

The reflection of her eyes, sad and melancholic, stared back at her from
the windowpanes and to Misao, it seemed that they had caught the agony
that she had seen in Aoshi's. She did love him, no matter what. Maybe
she was doomed to love him always. But it didn't mean that that would be
enough to bring them together. Misao continued looking out the window,
unaware of the fading light and the thickening shadows that eventually
covered the room in darkness.

........................

The room smelt of sweat, blood, fear and smoke. Saitou dropped the
cigarette and ground it under his boot. He had been down in this
hellhole in the basement of the building for the past four hours
questioning the suspect together with Shinomori. Saitou had no patience
for traitors, he himself would have died than betrayed his colleagues
and leaders. Still, he couldn't help but feel the slightest bit
impressed by the suspect's capacity for pain. Even the two guards who
assisted them had turned green at one point or another. It had taken
them three hours to break him and with methods practiced by the
Oniwabanshuu and the Shinsengumi. Most men would have been dead already.
Not that he doubted this one would end up any differently. He was almost
gone by the end of his confession.

As they stepped out of the room, Saitou turned to Aoshi, a speculative
light in his eyes. Usually Aoshi's ki read like a river in winter, cold
and almost impenetrable in its depths. But now there was something
stirring in those secret currents, something that unsettled Shinomori so
much that he was unable to completely conceal his feelings from Saitou.
"Do you intend to bring the itachi musume along with you tonight?" he
asked. Saitou intended to raid the various locations that the man had
given out. Aoshi, on the other hand, had expressed his intention to take
up the unexpected lead given by Gyotaro.

For a moment Aoshi stared blankly at Saitou before he realised that the
latter was referring to Misao. "She is not mine to bring around at will,
Saitou," he replied coolly.

"The doctor said one of her ribs is fractured. It might be safer for her
to remain here. Besides, given the frame of mind the two of you are in,
it would be better if only one of you went rather than two of you being
distracted by each other." As he said this, Saitou ignored the
predictably icy glare from Shinomori and striding calmly up the stairs,
exited the corridor, leaving Aoshi behind to do some thinking.

.................................

A beam of light fell into the room, illuminating the small figure curled
up on a chair near the window. Softly, Aoshi shut the door and walked
over to Misao. He meant to wake her and inform her of what had happened.
Instead, he found himself standing close to her, listening to the sound
of her breathing, and thinking of the times when he had tucked her in
when they both had been children.

The first time he had killed, he had returned to the Aoiya and washed
his hands out so thoroughly that not even the faintest smell of blood
remained. He had done that because the moment she knew he had come back,
Misao had run out of her room and clung to him, taking his hands in her
chubby ones. He remembered thinking back then that she should not touch
him, that he shouldn't touch her. And there had been that one night,
when he had come home injured, bearing the body of his Okashira's son,
Misao's father. Misao couldn't stop crying for weeks. And every time she
cried, she came to him, looking for comfort from the one who had failed
to keep her father safe. It had been a strange and tender torment, to
comfort the little girl and yet pass every moment in the excruciatingly
painful knowledge that he was responsible for her sorrow.

'And that was only the first time.' Returning to the Aoiya after his
involvement with Shishio Makoto had been one of the hardest things he
had ever had to do. As an Okashira he had failed them utterly. Instead
of being punished, he had been welcomed back by the very man he had
almost killed, by the Onmitsu he had threatened, and by the girl whom he
had let down again. He had learnt then that kindness could be as painful
as punishment. The temple had been a retreat for him to sort out his
thoughts. Yet Misao still followed him there.

And then the unthinkable happened. He fell in love with her. Sometime in
the past year, in between the companionable silences, the tea
ceremonies, the days spent together, he realised one day that he had
fallen in love with her. 'This was not supposed to happen,' he thought,
clenching his hands into fists.

"Aoshi-sama?"

The sound of her husky whisper jerked his head up and he saw that Misao
was watching him, those large blue-green eyes bright and alert. How long
had she been awake?

"Aoshi-sama, what's happening? What did that man say?" Was it just her
imagination or had Aoshi-sama been watching her in her sleep? That
thought sent warm thrills down her body although she fought to control
her feelings. She was too old, had been hurt to many times to let her
imagination get the better of her.

"He's a lower-level agent but he did give us the names, descriptions and
addresses of other agents that he knows of. Saitou will be making some
raids later tonight and hopefully some of those captured will know what
plans Shinohara has made."

"Tonight?" She sat up too quickly and grimaced as her ribs throbbed.
"And where will we be going?" she asked sharply, noticing he had left
that out.

Aoshi hesitated and Misao frowned. "Aoshi-sama, I hope you aren't
thinking of asking me to remain behind. I am going with you. Or if you
don't want me to go with you," she said in carefully neutral tones,
"then I'll go with Saitou."

"You're the Okashira, Misao," he said shortly. "Whomever you choose to
go with is not a matter I can decide for you."

"Then why do you sound so unhappy about it?" she snapped, suddenly
impatient with him, fuelled by a perverse desire to shake that cool
exterior.

"I'm not unhappy about it Misao. I respect your decisions." And with
that, he turned on his heel and made for the door, making it clear that
the conversation was over.

"Why were you watching me sleep?"

The question stopped him in his tracks. For the longest moment Misao
waited with breathless anticipation for his reaction, her heart pounding
so hard in her chest that the sound of it filled her ears. "And
why...what happened today that made you so sad?" she asked softly. Part
of her was frightened of the risk she was taking. She was pushing him,
pushing the unspoken boundaries that marked their relationship. But
another part of her insisted she press forward. The time for evasion and
running away was long past. It was time for them to decide, together,
where exactly they stood with each other. "I want to know why.
Please...I need to know why..."

In the darkness it was impossible to see the expression on his face. A
few minutes passed; a small eternity passed. And then he finally spoke.
"If you promise to wait here for me tonight, I'll tell you."

"Aoshi-sama!" she protested, a wealth of frustration and pain in her voice.

"Please Misao. I promise." When she said nothing, he gratefully took
silence as assent and left the room as quickly as possible. What had
happened tonight was inevitable, it would have happened sooner or later.
He had managed to delay it and get her to remain safely in the police
headquarters. It would be difficult but not impossible to enter the
diplomat's quarters. But the hardest part of the night would be after
that, when he returned and fulfilled his promise to Misao. He would tell
her everything. And after that, it would be clear to Misao why they
could not be together.

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