Author’s Notes: Yes. The smex is on. Clean version is ff.net, link to lemon is at shinobi love.

 So since you can’t like, you know, post links here, just type in Shinobi_Love in a Yahoo! Group search.

 Yea. Off to collapse is sheer exhaustion.

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            Chapter 5: Loverboy

‘loneliness is a fraud, going with the flow
Wonder tonight, be getting your jaded heart
tonight, shaking your blood’- Loverboy, L’arc~en~ciel

            He still felt it, the grogginess. It was becoming unsettling. It was harder to wake up with the usual ease he once had, his head feeling as if it had been stuffed with cotton. Normally he could wake up and be alert in an instance. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed, leaning back in his chair.

            It was almost time for lunch, and he had only gotten a fraction of his paperwork done. He hated feeling unproductive compared to his usual standards, he was the type who always sought to complete something when it was started.

            His revenge on Battousai was the one deviation, though he supposed making peace with it was a form of completion itself. As long as something started was resolved. He just disliked unfinished business.

            It was more than stress, what was occurring in his life at the moment paled in comparison to the ghosts of the past. He should have never assumed stress. Was he ailing in some way he could not detect? He felt no pain....

            He made a note to stop by the doctor, discreetly.

            Looking back to his paperwork, Aoshi put his worries aside to focus. Aside from Oniwabanshuu business, it appeared the Okashira duties extended to Aoiya business at well. Having grown up in the facility, he knew Okina had always taken care of that work, but it seemed things had changed since.

            Now he had inventory forms and sale intakes sitting before him, and he was just thankful he could make sense of almost any paperwork given to him. Okina had handed him the papers earlier, simply telling him what notations he made on inventory and what the desired income was daily.

            So this was the most prominent of work for the once highly active ninja clan? How the times changed it seemed.

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            Misao’s hands felt painfully dry from washing dishes all day. Her hair felt limp and stuck to the back of her neck and it was just bothering her. She hated this. She missed not being obligated to do this kind of stuff anymore. Okina hadn’t forced her to do any chores in almost two years.

            That man, that husband of hers...

            She’d like to see him do dishes!

            “Misao-chan, that’s plenty enough. Go upstairs.” Okon said, appearing in the doorway.

            “And what about his lord high horse?”

            “Aoshi-sama is off somewhere on business. Now you get out of here. Really Misao-chan, you were never good at doing dishes anyway.”

            Misao furrowed her brows.

            “Yes I was!” she said, walking past Okon and out of the kitchen.

            As she neared the stairs, it was at that moment Aoshi chose to return.

            They paused and looked at each other.

            “Where did you go?” she asked, sick of always looking like a cowering puppy at his feet.

            “Business.” he murmured, walking past her and up the stairs.

            “I realize that!” she snapped, following him.

            They made their way inside and she shut the door behind them and then gulped realizing she was alone in a room with him.

            He made his way towards his dresser and she watched wide-eyed as he shed off his trench coat and shirt.

            “W...What are you doing?”

            “Changing.”

            “Couldn’t you wait until I left?”

            He turned to face her, his chest bare. Misao found herself unable to look away.

            “Why? You are my wife. Even if we have yet to partake in the physical aspect of our marriage.”

            She blinked, and then turned.

            “I’m going to make some tea.”

            She left to make the tea, and was upset to realize it was the last night of the drug. All her frustration at her situation was coming back tenfold.

            She grabbed the tea set, and carefully slid the pouch containing the drug from her sleeve. Mixing it into Aoshi’s cup, she sighed.

            She still felt twinges of guilt for it, but like he felt sorry for putting her through all he did?

            Carrying the tray upstairs, she wondered what would happen tomorrow. Unable to subdue him and cause him to sleep. Would he really force himself on her? She didn’t really want to think of it more and suddenly longed to be sixteen again, unattached and free.

            She set the tray down in the center of the room, and handed him his cup. He accepted and sipped.

            As she sipped her tea, she felt like squirming under his gaze. He always looked at her so...intensely when they had tea.

            “Misao-chan!!”

            She looked up, hearing Omasu’s voice.

            “What could she want?” Misao murmured, standing and taking her tea with her.

            Aoshi watched her go, and set his cup down.

            He loved tea, but he was getting sick of it before bed. He preferred to stop drinking tea after dinner, but Misao did go to the trouble to make it, regardless of her feelings for him.

            He stood up, padding to the window and opened it, looking out at the starry sky. The moon was a sliver of pale gold, and he could see the river in the distance and hear the chirp of grasshoppers.

            It wasn’t too warm that night, and the air felt good.

            He was wondering again, if that had been the best course of action. Misao’s animosity bothered him slightly more than he cared to admit, but his bitterness towards her balanced it. The lust was still there, but had seemed to dim the more into business he got and the more apprehensive she was to be alone with him.

            When he thought about it, the two were never alone for long periods, when he was awake anyway.

            It was still troubling to him, his sleeping so much.

            His thoughts enveloped him, so much that he did now notice that almost half an hour had past and Misao hadn’t returned.

            He assumed Omasu was having Misao help with cleaning up the Aoiya.

            He looked back at his tea and picked it up. As he went to sip, he noticed an odd film at the rim, and wiped it.

            Smelling it, he gazed into the liquid to see a white powder has settled to the bottom.

            His eyes narrowed.

            He recognized the powder almost instantly and everything clicked into place in his mind. Her odd eagerness to serve tea every night, his sudden fatigue, her nervousness at night.

            His petite wife had been drugging him, probably since their wedding night.

            Taking the cup to the window, he poured the liquid out, and went to set the cup back to the tray.

            So this was how she was evading sleeping with him.

            He almost respected her cleverness, it was indeed a ninja-like thing to do.

            He felt his anger rekindled.

            He moved the futon, and laid back. If she could be deceptive, so could he.

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            Misao entered their room, sighing in annoyance.

            “Damn Omasu, I was not in the mood for cleaning.”

            She looked over to the futon to see Aoshi asleep, and moved to clear the tea tray out of the way. Stretching out her arms, she laid down on the futon and yawned. She could feel Aoshi’s warmth next to her, despite the inches of distance.

            She wondered, would she ever get used to it?

            She closed her eyes, unaware when Aoshi’s opened.

She gasped as he pinned her, she had long gotten somewhat accustomed to him being asleep by the time she retired. He was clearly awake, his body rigid and taut above hers, crushing. His eyes, which were normally ice cold, were burning.

            “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

            Her lower lip trembled, her eyes wide.

            “I...I....”

            “Nothing to say, Misao? There is nothing you can say that will spare you now. You’ve delayed the inevitable long enough.” he murmured, his voice a mixture of gravel and huskiness that made Misao tremble all the more.

            Her heart was racing, her skin was flushed, her eyes wide....

            Even in his anger, Aoshi could not deny how beautiful and tempting she was. Maybe part of him could understand she did what she did out of desperation, but the demons were unleashed and his blood was boiling.

            She would learn never to deceive him again. She was his, and he was going to make damned sure she knew it.

            His lips covered hers, initiating an cruelly deceptive gentle onslaught of kisses. Misao almost wished he was rough, it would be easier to resist. She knew drugging him was wrong, no matter what she told herself. When it came down to it, he was her Okashira once more and she had committed the worst betrayal within the Oniwabanshuu: betraying the Okashira. If he chose to, he could kill her and Okina and the others couldn’t do anything to save her.

            He pulled the sash of her yukata, pushing the thin, peach colored material aside and away and he moved to press his mouth against her shoulder and collarbone.

            Much to her chagrin, she couldn’t help but moan when his mouth captured one of her nipples, and unconsciously arched closer towards him.

            Her voice was failing her, she couldn’t form the words to plead with him to stop, not completely sure she wanted him to stop. She didn’t trust him, she didn’t love him, but it was a lot better than a death sentence. Perhaps it would not be so bad. Perhaps she was deluding herself.

            He moved to shrug out of his own yukata, tossing it aside in impatience. He could go slow, could exhibit utter tenderness, but she had tried his patience and her deception had left him beyond bitter. He could have her killed for her actions...but then that would make the social fissure between himself and the others in the clan greater.

            So this was his choice of punishment. He knew it wouldn’t be rape, her body was already succumbing to him. Despite her petty protests and words, he knew she was attracted to him at a physical level.

            His hand moved to curl under her knee, parting her thighs. He heard the hitch in her breath as his hand moved up her thigh and to her womanhood, fingers brushing against her nub which caused her hips to jerk. He did it again, thumb brushing against it while his other fingers slid into her.

            Any protests she had began to die away under the feelings he was stimulating. Something was building in the pit of her stomach, and she felt a wetness begin to pool between her thighs.

            Aoshi watched her reactions, painfully hard, and removed his hand much to her apparent dismay. He’d waited long enough, he wanted her. Now.

            Settling over her, he held himself up with his forearms as he stared down at her. She looked up at him, knowing what he was about to do.

            A last wave of panic hit her, and she began hitting at his chest and trying squirm out of his hold, but he merely grabbed her by her shoulders, earning a bite in his arm as she turned her head and sank her teeth into his skin.

            He settled over her again, the head of his manhood sliding into her made Misao freeze and go still beneath him as a hand moved to her hip. He moved slowly, inch by inch and from her expression he could tell she was discomforted.

            Grabbing her hips with both hands, he shifted them up to meet his thrust, fulling impaling her as she cried out, her hands flying to his back as her nails raked his skin. Her teeth were clenched and she was whimpering lowly in her throat.

            He felt sweat begin to bead on his forehead as he kept still.

            “Relax and it’ll hurt less.” he murmured, trying to keep his voice as even as possible, but couldn’t contain the groan mixed into it.

            Her eyes flashed angrily at his.

            “Don’t pretend you care!” she growled at him, digging her nails into his back with intent, which made him narrow his eyes and thrust again, pressing his lips against hers roughly which earned him a slap at the side of his head.

            Growling, he moved faster, ignoring the clawing of her nails and the biting of her teeth. He wasn’t concerned much about her comfort, he wasn’t concerned with anything at the moment. She began moving her hips against his, their battle of wills crossing over into this consummation of their marriage.

            It wasn’t a romantic seduction. It was chaos and lust.

            Her voice was straining as her cries grew louder and she came, and Aoshi thrust a few more times before he felt his seed spill in her, burying his head into the crook of her neck. Moments later, when both were sweaty and heavy of breath, she pushed him off of her and sat up slowly to reach for her yukata.

            She said nothing, and Aoshi made no move to reach for her and say something.

            She slipped into her yukata and scooted away from him, leaving a large distance between them as she turned on her side with her back facing him.

            He didn’t look at her. He looked up at the ceiling, trying much to not think of what had just occurred. He knew his back was probably bleeding from her scratch marks, his skin red and purple from her teeth.

            He didn’t think of it.

            She had fit so perfectly against him, felt so good...

            But he wouldn’t think of it.

            Or think of the next time he would take her.

            He could hear in the dead silence of the room her even breathing, knowing she had fallen asleep.

            For the first time in a while, Aoshi did not sleep.

            Perhaps this marriage was inadvertently the penance for his sins. Would he always have to go through so much to bed her? Did he want this to happen again?

            It was a time as such that Aoshi wished he could be so simpleminded as to not dwell on it anymore.

            But his mind did, and he was to spend the night drowning in somber and heated thoughts, and to desperately try to once more contain his inner demons that had been released so unexpectedly by his petite wife.

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            I’m not terribly satisfied with this chapter, but whatever.