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.

Sorry for the amount of time it took to update…the real world, y’know? Am also sorry that this goes a little angsty here. Didn’t mean to do it, it just happened. Something about Misao and Aoshi that lends itself to deep emotional scenes, but hopefully got it out of my system and can now go back to a lighthearted and smut filled conclusion.

Thanks for the feedback! Keep it coming.
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Chapter 3- The Best of Intentions

Misao followed behind Aoshi, her fingers lightly gripping the back of his yukata, as they wound their way through the crowded streets. Every now and then, Aoshi would feel a small tug on the material and they would both stop so that Misao could look at the wares being displayed at various stalls. He watched as her eyes would light up in childish wonder and her lips would purse in delight before she turned big eyes to him and smiled. Completely enthralled with the charming flush that stained her cheeks, he would find himself reaching into his sleeve to produce the small bag holding his money.

That’s how he found himself now, arms laden with small packages and Misao still attached to his clothes like lichen. He mentally rolled his eyes at himself; never had he felt the urge to spoil her like this. Well, not since she was small child had he felt the urge to give her everything those bright eyes fell upon.

He remembered those days fondly. A chubby two-year-old child, sweet bean paste smeared across her face and hands, toddling to him with a smile wreathing her face and arms open to hug him. The five-year-old imp, standing seriously before him as he tried to teach her the basic moves of martial arts. Her little body trying to execute every technique perfectly and those beautiful eyes looking to him for approval and praise. He recalled the tearful seven-year-old, who ran straight to him with the pain of her first heartache when Ichiro Yamagata ignored little Misao and pulled the braid of another girl. Lastly, he remembered the angelic eight-year-old who lay sleeping, unaware that today was the last day she would spend with her Aoshi. He remembered, too, the pain of parting without saying good-bye but knowing it would be easier on all if they snuck away like thieves in the middle of night. Cowardly, maybe, but easier than watching the pain bloom across that sweet, trusting face.

He shook himself out of his reveries. He was a man who should live in the future; too much of his past was shadowed with shame and guilt. It all started that dark rain driven night when he and the others walked away from home and family to seek an elusive honor. He couldn’t change the past and it did no use to dwell on it but his future…his future was what mattered now, a new start that began, strangely enough, on a rain driven morning when he cast his eyes to the sky and saw a rainbow. No pot of gold at its end, but a treasure standing beneath it.

Misao.

He cast a glance over his shoulder and returned the smile thrown his way.

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Misao blinked in surprise. She couldn’t remember the last time Aoshi had smiled at her that gently, that…happily. Her smiled wavered a bit but she managed to keep it. Her fingers tightened around the cloth, knuckles inadvertently caressing the strong muscles of his back.

He stopped suddenly and Misao, unprepared for the abrupt halt, plowed into his back. He turned quickly and wrapped his arms around her before she fell to the ground.

“Goman nasai, Mi-chan.” He whispered, “I shouldn’t have stopped so quickly. You might have been hurt.”

“N-n-no, that’s al-alright.” Misao stuttered, flustered by Aoshi’s proximity and the feel of his arms around her.

Aoshi stared down at her, his breath catching in his throat as shock swamped him. She felt good in his arms, she felt right. That small, lithe body with its surprising womanly curves nestled into his with, a fit that was almost perfection. He watched as she nervously nibbled her bottom lip and unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and, with a soft groan, gently suckled the full lower lip.

Misao froze, stunned, amazed and a little frightened by the heat that swept through her. Unsure of what to do, she clutched his shoulders and waited for something…anything.

“Open your mouth, Mi-chan.” Came the quiet command and with a small, excited shiver she obeyed.

Misao’s eyes felt heavy and she closed them as Aoshi patiently taught her the art of the kiss. His lips tenderly coaxed her. His mouth, a wet heat that tempted her to further exploration and following instinct, she timidly laved her tongue against his. Aoshi growled against her lips and deepened the kiss, his tongue forging itself into her mouth and twining around hers.

The kiss was hot and wet and quickly spinning out of control. Someone jostled them and Aoshi came to his senses amid muffled laughter and disapproving murmurs.

“You think he’d have the decency to wait until he got the little tramp to a room.”

“Way to go, man. Have to look up that hot little piece myself.”

Aoshi glanced down at Misao and realized that she was still in too much of a daze to notice the people around them. Keeping her protectively against his side and her face hidden, he quickly moved through the crowd. When they reached the secluded safety of a copse of trees, he released her as if she burned him. She leaned weakly against a tree, her fingers pressed to her tingling mouth as she watched him pace.

Aoshi stopped and dragged a hand through his hair, tousling the already messy strands in every which way. He turned to look at her, the icy demeanor falling back into place. His blue eyes hardened and he cleared his throat, “My apologies, Misao, that was inexcusable. It was not my intention tonight to treat you so shamelessly. I got carried away and I want to assure you it will not happen again.”

“But…” Misao began only to be cut off by an impatient wave of his hand.

“I know I have no right to ask this of you after my behavior, but would you please keep this between us?”

“Of course, Aoshi but…” Once again she was cut off.

“We should head back to Aoiya right now and pretend this never happened.” He turned cold eyes upon her and hated every word he had to force from his lips. “It was a mistake, Misao, a mistake never to be repeated again.”

Tears filled Misao eyes but she forcefully held them back, letting them tremble on the edge of her lashes. She looked so beautiful, so sad, that Aoshi had to steel himself from taking her into his arms again.

Straightening her spine and pulling tattered dignity about herself, she replied coolly, “Yes, I want to go home and pretend this damned night never happened.”

And silently they threaded their way back to the Aoiya, the pain and distance between them a tangible thing.

To Be Continued...