Sakura Kisses

Disclaimer: I own nothing and that includes these wonderful characters. You can try and sue, but again, I own nothing.
Author\'s note: This is my first RK fanfic. Still rated PG for now. Will change with later chapters. May contain a little OOC, but am trying to keep characters as true to anime/manga dipiction. I\'m a feedback slut, so please R&R.

Thanks for the feedback! Keep it coming.

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Aoshi found Misao lying on her stomach by the small pond, on her face a pensive frown. She trailed her fingers through the water and he watched as a few of the fish came up and rubbed against the undulating digits.

“Aoshi-sama, I didn’t think you would come.” Misao stated softly, keeping her gaze on the softly rippling water.

“Why did you think that?” Aoshi asked, curiosity in his voice.

Misao raised her head and looked up at him with a soft smile, “For as long as I can remember, you have never done anything simply because it was asked of you.”

“You make me sound…contrary.” Aoshi replied with a frown.

“No, not contrary. Just, I don’t know, independent. You always seem to go your own way; like you have some plan already worked out in your head and you do what you must to accomplish it. You are of one mind, I guess is what I’m trying to say…” Misao shrugged letting the thought trail off.

“Now you make me sound diabolical.” Aoshi complained without heat.

“Hai, it would seem that way.” Misao agreed. She sat up and crossed her legs. Leaning her elbows against her knees and cupping a cheek in her hand, she smiled up at him. “Oh, don’t scowl at me like that. You are not diabolical in the sense of Makoto Shishio, but you *do* use any means you can to achieve your ends.”

Aoshi actually flushed, a mixture of shame and of embarrassment. He fell back on his old arrogance, “I am…was…the Okashira. I did what I had to do to preserve the honor of the Oniwabanshu.”

Misao snorted and waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t get your fundoshi in a bunch. It’s not like it’s a bad thing…well, except for the time you tried to kill Jiya, but that’s water under the bridge. Oh, not mention your unhealthy obsession with defeating Himura, but you got over that…and…”

“Are you *quite* done, yet?” Aoshi asked in annoyance, “Wasn’t there some reason you wanted to see me?”

Misao stopped midstream, and blinked up at him in confusion, “Oh, yeah. I want to go to the festival tonight, but Jiya says that now that I’m 19, I must behave properly. Jiya happily informed me that that means I can’t go out in the evening unescorted. I think that is completely ridiculous. After all, I *am* the Okashira and I should be able to go out alone.

“No, Okina is correct. It is not proper for a well brought up young lady to be out at night without an escort. Only a whor…er…those of a less than seemly reputation are out and about unattended.”

“Oh…really?” Misao asked, a scowl on her face, “First time I heard of that rule. I thought for sure the old man was making it up to piss me off.”

“Really, Misao.” Aoshi reinforced, realizing, not for the first time, how truly misdirected Misao’s education was. Sure, the girl could defend herself brilliantly with any assortment of weapons and martial arts. She could sneak up on an enemy without making a sound. Listen with “hard” ears to sense an enemy’s approach, but in matters of etiquette and womanly arts, she was all at sea.

Aoshi took a moment to really look at Misao and came away completely unsettled. Trying to view her objectively, he become conscious of the fact that the child he remembered was no more and in her place was a lovely woman. Misao managed to stay so true to her self, personality wise, that it was easy to overlook the physical changes, but he was taking notice now.

The soft features of her face had sharpened somewhat, giving her a mysterious air. The green eyes were large with a slight tilt at the corners and rimmed with long, dark lashes. She had grown some, in the last three years, and the added height made her seem willowy and graceful. She now had breast, though still small, but enough that a man wouldn’t complain about the pleasant handful she’d make. Aoshi forcefully banished that thought from his mind and moved his eyes down to her waist…her tiny waist. Her hips flared out gently morphing into firm, round thighs and legs that were long, lean and very toned from her years of training.

Aoshi swallowed heavily. Kami-sama, but she was indeed a beauty. He would have to guard her virtue very carefully. Only the man who met his approval would be allowed to court her.

“But is there anyone who I would truly approve of for her? Or…” Aoshi thought, but quickly ended it before he dragged, kicking and screaming into the light, ideas better left in the dark recesses of his oxygen deprived mind.

Misao, completely unaware of the scrutiny, as well as Aoshi’s inner conflict, looked up at him from beneath her lashes and pleaded, “Aoshi-sama, would you please, please, please take me tonight?”

“Misao, I don’t think that would be a good idea. These festivals can get rowdy at night. Why don’t you, Omasu and Okon go this afternoon?” Aoshi asked.

Misao pouted, “Because Omasu and Okon have plans to go tonight, Aoshi-sama.”

“Then what about Okina? Have him go with you.”

“Jiya says the festival is for the young and his old bones can’t take the hours of walking, though I think he has one of those “picture books” and wishes to read it when everyone is gone and cannot bother him.”

“Perverted old bastard.” Aoshi said to himself.

“Aoshi…please, please, please,” Misao begged prettily, purposely dropping the honorific from his name and lowering her voice to a seductive whisper, “I’ll do anything if you take me tonight.”

Aoshi valiantly ignored the double entendre, knowing she couldn’t have known what she said. He sighed in defeat, “Very well, but on one condition.”

Misao glanced at him warily. “Well, I did say anything. Okay, what is it?”

“Wear your new kimono and the hair ornaments I bought you.” Aoshi said and smiled at her gently.

“Hai!”

To be continued...