Chapter 1: Carpe Diem

One day he inexplicably left the temple—for good. His aura was mysterious; that was a given, but this last move had left all of the inhabitants at the Aoiya completely clueless. They didn't; however, dwell upon his actions for long: they were just glad he had decided to come forth from his prolonged hibernation and face the light. Misao was estatic—for her, his emergence was a sign of the true revival of the Oniwabanshuu. What she hadn't taken into account was the fact that it had been thriving without him; it had grown with the determination and love of a particularly fiery young woman, who like a magnet, drew everyone and everything nearer to her with natural force. Her attraction was so propelling that in time, even he was convinced that it was the time to move on.

The first signs of his apparent recovery and his changed mindset to move on as the true Okashira came with his new western business suit. Once he had donned it, Okina had handed the expenses of the inn and the financial plans to the younger man without a word of doubt. With the leather-bound agenda placed in his capable hands, the old man had implicitly handed over the onmitsu leadership to Aoshi once more, his rugged face looking sternly at the tall man with utter severity, even if his crinkled eyes shined with pride and unreserved relief.

Misao happened to pass by the two men in their wordless meeting, but she had been carrying a huge load of laundry in her small arms, barely able to see past her, much less around her. The two men, having finished all they needed to "say", both looked at the petite woman ambling past them, her grumbling barely audible over the laundry that muffled her voice. Okina turned to face his Okashira with a slight smile and a comment spoken in undertone: "Do you realize that while you were spending time off to heal and grow—that she had grown, too? Now, along with the new responsibilities you carry, another one is added. You must reacquaint yourself with the woman you had left behind these last few years."

How true, Aoshi mused to himself, gazing at the braided beauty as she teetered over the stairs.

Okina gave him a swift glance before taking the agenda from his hands and placing it on Aoshi's oak desk, gesturing to Misao with a grin, "And you may start now by helping her down the stairs like any pleasant gentleman." Aoshi couldn't restrain himself from giving the old man a slight groan of annoyance before leaving after Okina's surrogate granddaughter, leaving the old man in the spacious room, overlooking the blooming garden in a winsome reverie, repeating a well-known foreign phrase that he found fit to match his mood: carpe diem.

"Oof," Misao grunted as she balanced the load against her frontal area and strained her eyes to see the next step below her. She really hoped that she wouldn't trip over herself; otherwise, that would result in her tumbling down the stairs in a flurry of linens and dirty clothing and falling inevitably to her death. Death from the actual physical act of falling downstairs, or death at the hands of a fuming Omasu; either would be extremely painful. Suddenly, Misao came up with an ingenious plan: why not lean against the wall, that way she could go downstairs much quicker, and with less risk! Grinning self-contentedly as she scooted against the wall, she then proceeded to master the stairs, step by step. Frowning slightly with concentration, Misao was too busy placing her foot solidly on the next step down to realize that her load had gotten a lot lighter. Looking up to check if most of the clothes was still in place and hadn't fallen off, Misao found herself staring at a two wells of endless blue—Aoshi-sama. She had meant to say "Oh!", but her mind wanted to say "Eek!", so in her confusion, Misao had settled for an utterly unsophisticated "Erk". Blushing violently, Misao looked at the taller man who motioned to her nonplussed to follow his lead down stairs. Berating herself for her lack of eloquence and sheer awkwardness, Misao followed him easily down the stairs with her cleared view, wishing that she still had the mountain of clothes to hide her fiery flushing. Kami-sama, she was still such a kid! She let out a small sigh—it seemed like she wasn't used to having Aoshi around so much: whenever he was around, she found that she felt even more tongue-tied and clumsy that usual. It was so much easier just seeing him once a day and spending the rest of her time daydreaming endlessly about him. Now that he was at home more often, so many more things could go wrong! Or, she realized suddenly as she gave herself an elfin smile, so many more things could go to her advantage…

He looked over his shoulder, waiting for her to spring down into the hallway with amusement. Seeing her improvise to make way with her immense load downstairs by leaning against the wall as support had charmed him to no end. Misao had always had a bountiful amount of commonsensical cleverness—she had just always chosen to ignore it to satiate her feline curiosity. Peering over his shoulder with a impassive expression on his noble visage, Aoshi hid his surprise when he witnessed a slight change in Misao's countenance. The rosy blush that had crowned her features but a few moments had drained out, leaving his protégé with a secretive, very womanly smile on her lips. Aoshi felt slightly unnerved—like a moth that had been drawn to the light that only realizes moments before its death that such brightness is dangerous. Shaking his head slightly, he looked down at the fair young woman by his side—the mischievous smile was gone; in its stead was a sun-drenched grin that was all-too familiar to him as she said cheerily, "Arigatou, Aoshi-sama! If it weren't for you, I would have taken another hour getting down here!" Then, taking the bundle he had carried from his arms, Misao proceeded steadily to the laundry room, her walk still graceful even if her steps were smaller and slower. Aoshi's eyes followed her every move, lightening from its icy blue torrent to a milder azure as he watched Misao blend into the light shining through the Aoiya's open doors.

Misao looked forlornly at the sprouts that refused to emerge in front of her. Staring at the crumbly, moist, brown soil organized into plots in front of her, Misao knelt on her knees, not caring that she was soiling her newest kimono, looking for any signs of spring life in the coarse dirt. Hearing steps behind her, Misao wailed dejectedly without caring to turn, "Mou, Okon! They're taking forever! What if they just died in there? My pet garden's a failure, already!" The footsteps stopped suddenly as the person peered over the small woman, amusement dusting slightly over his features as he heard his ward's exaggerated words. Misao was slightly disconcerted by the lack of words coming from the usually bubbly older woman she presumed to be right behind her until she noticed the tall dark silhouette of a man cast a dark shadow over her. Wheeling around with an exquisite look of surprise that captured her finely sketched features, Misao recognized her Okashira with a shaky "K-konnichi-wa!" Aoshi murmured likewise in response, then knelt by her side, looking intently at the garden, or rather lack of a garden, with critical eyes. Misao sat against her heels, bringing a shaky hand up to Aoshi's face, showing him a brown package, "They're seeds," she said, rather nervous with his proximity as she flushed slightly, "you know, the kind that produce vegetables." Once she had uttered that statement, Misao wanted to yank her hair and throw a fit: Baka! Aoshi obviously knows what they are! It's just typical of you to get all tongue-tied and say all sorts of stupid things…Calm down, it's just Aoshi-sama! How easy it was for her mind to tell her that it was "just Aoshi-sama", when he was only the most desirable man she had ever dreamed of—sure, she could handle him on her own just fine. Letting out a small sigh, Misao frowned at her non-existent sprouts, willing them, no; pleading with them to spring out of the ground: come out, come out—you know you want to. The sun's all warm and toasty today… COME OUT, Dammit!

Aoshi looked at the willowy woman by his side, whose unwavering gaze seemed to be commanding the unyielding soil to bear greens already. He settled his gaze on her clenched fist that was crushing the package of seeds unwittingly. He reached over and grasped her hand, ignoring her surprised, inquiring look as he gingerly undid her closed fingers and took the seeds from her, giving her a very slight smile, "I'm sure you'll want to have these for safe keeping, Misao." Misao didn't respond—she had turned her head and was looking out towards the sun, her features flushed as waves of rose and gold washed over her features. She was breathtaking, with wisps of dark midnight hair fluttering on her slender face and long thick lashes protecting her eyes from the sun's damaging rays. Aoshi suddenly felt out of place—really, what was he doing there?

"Do you know why I want this garden so badly, Aoshi-sama?" The question had come out rushed and abruptly, her voice low and pensive.

 Aoshi tore his gaze from her distant face, looking at the package of seeds as he turned it over in his hands, "No, Misao." Feeling slightly inadequate with his curt words as he sensed Misao's uncertainty on continuing their conversation, Aoshi murmured encouragingly, "Tell me, Misao." He loved the way her name resounded in his throat—it felt full, harmonious and balanced.

"I wanted to watch something… grow. I mean, I realized one night as we were eating dinner that time was such a key element in our lives, yet I had never seen its manifestations until it had passed. I saw Jiya, Okon, Omasu—even you. All of you had changed so much, and I hadn't noticed, or I hadn't had a chance to notice. I felt almost ashamed; you all are people I have grown up with, people I love. I was hoping that if I could rear a garden, I would find some joy in seeing growth." Misao looked down at her hands: they were small, calloused and rough around the knuckles. Suddenly she found that she couldn't meet Aoshi's eyes: she had been babbling nonsense all day. He must find all her rambling irritating, and not to mention that she wasn't attractive in the conventional ways a woman should be—no, she was rough, too sharp and incredibly short. Like some queer nature sprite, she mused slightly, tying in her recent reading in foreign literature to her own situation. Most of the time she had prided in her sheltered yet complete childhood: it had made her what she was today. She admitted that she was much more of a child than she was an adult at her nineteen years, but what she had hoped was that she had some redeeming quality or some extraordinary features that would win Aoshi over with time, but she was rapidly losing hope of that.

"Maybe I should do the same." Aoshi's almost wistful tone prompted Misao to look up into his eyes, searching for an explanation. Aoshi got up unexpectedly, looking down at Misao with undecipherable eyes as he offered a hand to help her up. Misao felt her mouth curve upwards into a merry smile as she put her hand in his, enjoying the sensation of being hoisted up by his supple strength. Once she was on her feet, Misao looked at her hand encased in his and swallowed nervously, slipping her hand out of his as she looked hesitantly up at his countenance. She almost winced when she felt Aoshi's eyes taking in her soiled kimono, but he surprised her suddenly by kneeling in front of her and gently brushing the dirt off of her dress. His large hand nearly encompassed both her knees as he continued to rhythmically swipe at her sodden kimono as he murmured, "I had been gone for so many years, only to come back and see that my—that you had grown up. I think…I think that it took me these last few years to finally accept that you're still you, even when at times you seemed so familiar, so much like the Misao of the past, and yet so altered that you were an unapproachable woman."

Misao bit her bottom lip, "Unapproachable?"

Aoshi stopped cleaning her skirts as he looked up at her with dark complex eyes, standing up slowly as he continued to stare into her eyes without breaking their gaze, "But no longer."

Thrusting the paperwork aside, Aoshi gazed out into the spilling colors of the watercolor sunset: violet, gold, and scarlet stained the sky as the heralding evening breeze tousled his hair. Aoshi quietly held the fountain fen to his chin, recalling the events of the afternoon. The response he had gotten from Misao once he had confessed his interest in her had been priceless: self-doubt, hope and hesitation had warred over her open features. His eyes flickered in amusement: very well, he concluded, if she could not see the truth, then there would be plenty of time for him to enlighten her.

What in Kami-sama's name had he meant? Misao clutched the tea tray close to her, hoping that she wouldn't spill any of the hot liquid or accessories. When he had talked to her in the garden earlier that day, Misao had felt her heart jump straight into her throat, fearing to misinterpret the meaning of his words. She would be cautious—she did not want to misunderstand him and feel her hope build up, only to have it shattered once she came up with the courage to voice her feelings for him. Her heart protested at her cowardice, but her mind encouraged her decision—after all, there was no solid evidence that indicated his interest. Misao knocked at his door mildly before entering his room at his voiced permission. She nearly dropped the tray with pleasant surprise when she entered the room. Aoshi was standing with his back to her, gazing at the radiant sunset. Misao hurriedly placed the tea set on his desk before joining him joyfully, sharing the sunset with him in silence. She didn't have a clue as to how much time had actually passed; all she knew was that once she had seen the first star of the night and the heavy drapes of dark blue advancing, she felt her heart tighten. What a sunset! She couldn't help but grin pleasantly to herself—she had always enjoyed watching the change of day and night. The striking sunset inspired her to make plans for watching the sun rise the next morning…maybe. Aoshi suddenly shifted by her side, returning to his desk as he drew out his arm chair and brought out another chair for his companion, gesturing for her to join him. Misao complied, bustling over to pour the tea. She felt the pot tentatively before looking at him worriedly, "Aoshi-sama… the tea's cold."

As Misao turned with the pot to make some more, Aoshi halted her, holding her back gently with an extended arm, "Wait Misao, I don't need tea today, thank you." Misao looked at him with a quizzical look before Aoshi motioned for her to take a seat, "We have to talk." Curious, Misao nodded slightly before she sat by his side quietly, her expression alert and her body upright as she gave her full attention to her Okashira, "I have already confided my intentions to Okina earlier this week, and I intend to do likewise with you." Giving the slender woman a piercing gaze, Aoshi continued evenly, "I have plans for expanding the Oniwabanshuu, fortifying it from within, and then reaching outwards to others. The Oniwabanshuu will remain a covet onmitsu clan, but branching out the Aoiya will make it easier for the Oniwa to expand, picking out possible contenders from those that come to associate at the restaurants. This era is one of peace, that is true, but the use of shadowing and intelligent surveillance will still be highly in demand—politicians tend to be all the more uneasy with sudden peace. Besides, there are the westerners to consider. Thus, the need for highly tuned observational skills and sharp social skills is needed in order to make this all work out." Giving her a meaningful look, Aoshi got straight to the point: "That is where you come into play. I need a leader to stimulate the planning and advertising of the new Aoiya branches as well as a fine mind to keep things in track with Okina. You would need to arrange the new Restaurant's service, employment and work ethics. Will you accept the responsibility?"

Misao was ready with the brightest of smiles and a firm answer, "Of course."

From that day on, the meetings between the Okashira and his most trusted advisor made way for a most welcomed company of three.

Author's note: So… how was it? Aish, I was stumbling over 'A Whisper of Grace' for so long that I suddenly had the desire to write another traditional A+M fanfic (one set in the original RK universe), since I had so much fun getting all mushy over 'Muted Discourse' (which, by the way, will not have another epilogue for the epilogue. It is completely finished, although someone can take the initiative and write a follow-up lemon for me, since I can't write those myself. It would be greatly appreciated :P). Aigo! I'm sick at home right now with a rather nasty version of the flu: terribly sore throat, stuffiness and PINK EYES!!! Ewewew… how gross! Pray for my rapid recovery, that way I can come up with another chapter for 'Whisper' or 'In My Place', and for the few who actually read 'Makimachi Misao's Diary', I'm already… 1/3 done with the next chapter! Woohoooo! My other fic 'The Order' was put on an unknown hiatus due to the lack of responsiveness from readers and my fall of inspiration.

Anyways, reviews are always appreciated :D