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In Err, My Suffering	By : westernink Category: Rurouni Kenshin > General Views: 5774 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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In Err, My Suffering

Part II of V

Disclaimer:�
Why do I even need one of these?�
I do not own Rurouni Kenshin
or the characters thereof.�� Used without
permission.

Credit: �This story was inspired by a fanfic I truly love called "Loving a Killer"
written by Tiian.�
I got the idea from reading that, and the said author's permission to
write this piece.�

*�� *�� *�� *

�� It
was impossible to judge when night ended and morning began. �At least, it was to her.�

�� Her
skin was hot and sticky and icky feeling.�
She wanted a bath - but was soberly reminded by memory she'd end up
feeling like this at the end of the day all over again.�� Sweating and being unable to sleep was the worst part of
summer.�

�� She
sat up, pulling on a light colored yukata, unable to
bear even the thought of wearing her dark uniformed outfit.� She'd sweat to death in that thing, she
thought, shoving her door open.

�� One
sullen glance down the hall told her Aoshi was already
gone.� Even though she couldn't really
confirm that, she suspected it.� It was,
really, almost guaranteed by the consistency of his behavior.�

�� Between
his "away" missions for Okina and
"meditating", she really didn't see him much.� Aoshi did a lot of information
work.� Since Okina
handled the information network, she wasn't sure what that "work"
entailed exactly and she hadn't been motivated enough in this weather to find
out.

�� She
suspected his "away" work kept him there less often than he was actually
gone.� His avoidance of her was annoying,
and worse than that the others had completely mistook the reasons he had taken
to doing so.

�� They
had, somehow, gotten the impression Aoshi was annoyed
with her "hanging around him" all the time.�

�� Which wasn't even true, really.� She didn't hang around him that
much.�

�� She
headed for the stairs, slowing when she heard Okina's
voice.�

�� "She's
a nice girl, Aoshi.�
You should consider it."

�� "How
do you expect me to support a wife?"

�� Misao gaped.� Okina was suggesting Aoshi
marry?� So suddenly?� So blatantly?

�� Absolutely
not!� Not while she was around.

�� "You're
getting older - surely you've thought about it.�
Wouldn't you like to have a family?�
It would be easier to get Misao to think of
marriage if she had an example to follow."

�� Misao seethed from where she stood, eavesdropping.

�� "I
am not at liberty to make such decisions now,� Aoshi
replied sedately.

�� "Eh?"�

�� Damn
right he wasn't, Misao thought.� If anyone decided whether or not Aoshi got married it would be her.� �She owned him!�

�� Well,
maybe she didn't, she thought huffily.�
But she should.

�� She
decided right there if he got married to someone else she'd never forgive
him.� Not even begging on his death bed!

�� Well,
maybe that was too far.� She couldn't
deny Aoshi a deathbed wish.�

�� Ah,
no!� No dying-Aoshi
thoughts, she scolded herself.

�� She
continued down the stairs just as Aoshi walked
out.� He paused to glance down at her
before turning and heading up the stairs.�
She glanced back at him and then in at Okina,
blinking innocently.

�� "Ah,
Misao come on in here."

�� She
stepped in feeling weary, and hoping it didn't show on her face.� She sat down in front of Okina's
table, finding the place where she sat warm.�
She smiled at sitting where Aoshi had been.

�� "Have
you given any consideration to starting a family?"� He asked, sipping some morning tea.�

�� "Don't
guys start families?" she asked, putting off the question
momentarily.� "And no, not unless it
involves Aoshi-sama," she chirped happily.

�� Of
course she'd thought about it.� A million times.�
She'd worried for weeks about pregnancy - until, of course, her period
returned.� Although she'd heard from Okon some women still bled while pregnant, either way, she
hadn't conceived.

�� Unfortunately.

�� Wasn't
that almost a sure way to get Aoshi to be hers
permanently?

�� The
thought of trapping Aoshi in marriage by pregnancy
didn't sit well with her though.� She
wanted him fair and square.

�� Okina sighed, clearly disappointed.

�� He
looked so seriously discontent, Misao began to
worry.� "Why do you want me to get
married so much?� I'm not an old maid
yet."

�� "I
am an old man, Misao; I'm not getting any
younger.� I want to know you are in the
hands of someone who will take care of you when I'm gone.� My only family is those of the Aoiya and you are the only child I ever had.� I do not want you to regret anything.� Or Aoshi."

�� "You
want Aoshi to have a family?"� she asked.

�� "I
know you don't like the possibility of seeing him with someone else.� Don't you want what is best for him?"

�� She
sat forward glaring.� "Are you
saying someone else is better for Aoshi?"� she asked, not
noticing the informality.�

�� Okina sat back slightly.�
"Be reasonable," he urged.

�� Misao pouted and stood.�
"I'm going to help in the kitchen."

�� She
heard him sigh once more as she walked off.�
The moment she stepped inside Omasu handed her
a list and a pouch of money and pushed her straight back out.� Misao blinked as
the door was snapped closed in her face.

�� "Must
be busy...� she mumbled, turning to walk toward the front door.� Omasu was
especially pushy when it was busy.

�� What
a depressing day.

�� How
could Okina even consider the possibility that someone
else could be better for Aoshi than her?

�� Sure,
she wasn't sure how to feel about him right now, but that didn't mean she
didn't want him.

�� She
did.

�� She
damn sure didn't want anyone else having him.

�� "Misao."

�� She
jumped at the suddenness of the voice from the tall man who had sneaked up to
walk beside her.

�� "Ah,
don't do that, Aoshi-sama," she paused.� "Why are you out?"

�� She
didn't see any bag on his shoulder - so... He wasn't leaving town at
least.� It was always painfully easy to
tell when he was leaving town.�

�� "You
heard Okina this morning..."

�� He
didn't phrase it like a question; he must have known she was there.� She smiled, that was good old, Aoshi-sama.

�� "About
that...� he started, only to trail off.�
She couldn't remember him being short of words before.

�� So
she waited.

�� "It
is not my intention to marry anyone else."

�� She
stopped, glancing up at him.� "Damn
right."�

�� She
immediately slapped a hand over her mouth.�
Bad girl, Misao!� She scolded.

�� He
didn't respond to the comment.�

�� "Do
you need me to accompany you?"

�� She
blinked.� "For
what?"

�� He
motioned toward her list.�

�� "Oh,
no, I got this."�

�� Did
she want him to go?� Sure, she'd never
tell him not to, but she didn't want him coming because he felt obligated.

�� If
it came down to it, she could handle herself.�
That's what she did all that time he was gone, after all.�

�� He
nodded.� "I'm going to the Temple.� Don't be gone too long."

�� She
watched him go, sighing softly.� What was
best for him, huh?

�� Did
anyone really know what was best for him?

*�� *�� *�� *

�� Aoshi stared at the wall, all hope at achieving some
semblance of inner peace from meditation today, long gone.� Days at the temple lately had that effect on
him, leaving his mind to wander while he struggled to focus himself.

�� Even
now he worried about her walking out there along the crowded streets alone.

�� What
if some goon pulled her into an alley and molested her?�

�� What
if she got herself into a fight she couldn't handle with that mouth of
hers?� That beautiful, perfect little
mouth...

�� He
sighed inaudibly and stood.� It had only
been an hour.� She probably wasn't
downtown at all; she was probably back, safe, at the Aoiya
with Okina.�
But he couldn't know that for certain.

�� Thoughts of the previous night caused him to
wonder if he should kiss any thoughts he had of peace goodbye forever.

�� Especially
after she'd told him she thought about it.

�� About wanting it.

�� About wanting him.

�� She
wanted him, and deep down, he'd known she had.�
She still did.�

�� Because,
he knew, she loved him.

�� Misao loved him.

�� He
wanted, needed frantically, for her to continue to love him.� He�d do anything to keep her.� Anything to ensure she still loved him.� Loved him always.

�� Maybe
he was obsessed�

�� He
didn�t care.

�� He
stood, hoping to leave his tumultuous thoughts behind, but knowing he would be
dragging them back with him.� He always
did.� He headed down the pathway, eyes
scanning, but seeing nothing.�

�� His
path was straight ahead, nothing between him and the Aoiya
except the street crowds that he navigated through deftly.� Okina was out
front, sweeping the entrance.� The old
man spared him a glance as he approached.

�� Is
Misao here?�

�� She
was,� Okina replied, stilling the motion of the
broom.� �But she muttered something about
chocolate and then off she went in search of sweets.�

�� Aa,� Aoshi replied shortly and
stepped in.� He avoided the customers,
instead moving straight to the back, up the stairs and straight to her door.

�� He
told himself he was going to regret this as he reached for the panel to slide
it open.

�� It
didn�t stop him.

�� He
pulled the door open and stepped inside, boldly invading her territory and
loving every exhilarating second.� He
pulled it closed behind him, inhaling the lingering scent of her in the room.

�� He
could recall the taste of her on his lips, mind full of nothing but her and
having her and just outright ravishing her.

�� He
walked to her window and sat down, placing his back against the wall.� He would just have to wait.

�� For
Misao, he�d wait forever.

*�� *�� *�� *

�� "That
was not funny!"� Misao
shouted down the stairs, stomping childishly to her room.� "Damn idiots!"�

�� She
tore the door open and stepped inside, her anger evaporating in one fell swoop
at the sight that met her within.

�� "Aoshi-sama?"

�� He
turned his eyes upwards.� "Misao," he acknowledged.

�� She
stared at him a moment and then frowned.�
"Is something wrong?"

�� "No,"
he replied.�

�� She
swallowed dryly.� "Um..."� She looked at the door behind her,
shifting.� "What brings you to my
room?"

�� His
answer was silence and she stepped in closer when he showed no signs of moving
from where he sat, cross-legged beneath her window.�

�� "We
should talk about it," he stated.

�� "Talk
about it?� It?� Do you mean what I think you mean when you
say 'it' or is it another 'it' we're talking about?" she asked, crossing
her arms, eyes darting across her bare floor.

�� Where
should she sit?

�� "The
afternoon we spent together."

�� That
was a mild description of it, wasn't it?�
She thought wryly.� "Oh,� she
paused and decided to stand a little closer.�
She didn't want to stand too close, she might be tempted to touch him or
something and that would be bad.�

�� "I'm
sorry."� His voice was so solemn.

�� She
looked down from the window where she'd been staring out.� "I'm not."

�� "Misao-� His eyes took on an expression she couldn't
recognize, but it sounded like a warning in his voice.� A 'stop- stay back' kind of
tone.

�� "I
don't want to hear that.� I don't want
you to be sorry for that," she continued, saying what she wanted,
regardless of what he wanted to hear.

�� "...
What do you want?"

�� "Huh?"� Surely, she hadn't heard him right.� Surely, he, Aoshi:
the taker, wasn't asking her, Misao:
the giver, what she wanted.�

�� "What
do you want?" he repeated, his voice barely exceeding a whisper.� "What do you want from me?"� His eyes were intense, trained solely on
her.�

�� "I'd
say I just wanted you, but you've been giving me iffy looks lately."� She smiled.�
"And I think you'd take it the wrong way.� Well, you know what I mean."�

�� "What
would it take?"� To
get you?

�� Her
eyebrows rose.� "I don't know."

�� The
answer seemed to disappoint him.� She
walked toward him and kneeled down in front of him.� He unfolded his legs and allowed her to scoot
closer - between his spread knees.

�� The
floor beneath her knees was hard and already bothering her kneecaps, but she
remained kneeling.�

�� "I
don't know what I want from you, but it isn't something I can ask
for."�� She tilted her head
contemplatively.� "If that makes any
sense...� Wait, maybe I can say it
better..."

�� "There's no need."

�� "Hmm?"� She
refocused her gaze on his, noting the intensity of his eyes had increased.�

�� "I
know what you want,� he said, his voice soft.

�� She
frowned at him; feeling slightly miffed at his all-knowing attitude and crossed
her arms.

�� "I
don't think it's best for you... But I will agree to it."

�� "No!� No, you won't!� Not until you tell -me- what it is!" she
demanded, feeling even more anxious at this somber-toned conversation.

�� She
did not like somber.� Not
at all.�

�� This
whole dialogue had a reluctant and sad kind of feel suddenly and she wasn't
about to let him decide on something major and give her cryptic half
answers.� Not happening.

�� She
shook her head. "No way..."

�� "If
it's me you want, I agree.� I'll marry
you."

�� Her
unhappy expression only intensified.� He
said it like he was so damn happy.� It
felt more like he was compensating a rowdy child just to get her to shut up.�

�� No
way, she wasn't about to accept that.

�� "What
makes you think that's what I want?"�
she asked the edge in her voice sharp.

�� "...."

�� "Marrying
me wouldn't give me what I want - I'm young, but old enough to have realized that."� She narrowed her eyes.� "It won't make you stay here; it won't convince
me that I'll always be able to make sure you're safe and not wandering around
killing yourself slowly somewhere."

�� "...."

�� "There's
nothing you can do," she answered.�

�� "Nothing?"�
He barely breathed the word, his very voice a strained torture in her
ears.� His eyes almost seemed to shimmer
with disappointment at her answer, but maybe she was being hopeful and seeing
things that weren't there.�

�� She
leaned forward, shifting her weight on her knees, a small smile on her lips as
she shook her head negatively.� She
gently touched her nose to his.�

�� "Not
even my word is good enough?" he murmured, a soft tone not strong enough
to travel outside of their little circle, not even to be picked up by Oniwabanshuu ears.

�� "Is
it?" she countered.� "Or is it just
good enough until something threatening comes along and you decide to make more
life-changing decisions without telling me?"

�� He
seemed to pick up on the fact, without her explicit mention, that she was
referring to his leaving her at the Aoiya the first
time. �

�� "Overlooking
the fact the last time I left you, you were a child," he countered with a
sharpness that made her slightly uneasy.

�� She'd
hadn't dealt with a hostile Aoshi since she had been
scolded by him as a kid, and only after she'd done something that had proven to
be dangerous to her person and scared him.

�� "Isn't
there some kind of saying about a person doing once and then being likely to do
it again?" she asked flippantly, not noticing when his gaze shifted from
minor irritation to deepest depths of displeasure.

�� She
sensed his movement, despite her own quickness; she wasn't able to escape as
his arms suddenly encircled her, dragging her across the tiny space still
separating them.

�� "You
would doubt me?" he leaned forward to nuzzle against her, pressing his
mouth against the collar of her day yukata before
sliding down, pushing her back� slightly
giving him room to lean forward.

�� He
snagged the tie on the back of her robe and pulled.� The fabric tie slid against itself and unwound
and the fabric loosed.�

�� He
dropped his eyes down, his fingers tightening in the material pulling it
farther open.� Her skin was pale and
white.

�� And
there was nothing underneath but skin, pure white, milky colored skin.�

�� He
feasted on her, his eyes drifting from the column of her neck to the flushed
peaks of her breasts to the small dip of her navel.� A thin wisp of material covered her from just
below her navel to her mid-knee, protecting the last vestige of her
modesty.� He groaned at the sight of her.

�� Her
gasp met his ears, but didn't slow his movement.� He pulled her back to him, his hands
tightening at her back, pulling the material across her torso tight.� He turned his face up, seeking her mouth.

�� He
pulled her lips to his, seeking resistance or compliance, but seeking
something.� He kissed her hard, sparing
no quarter for gentleness.� His hands
tightened again and the fabric slipped, sliding off her shoulders and falling
down her back to gather over his hands.�
He pulled it, taking her wrists back with it, causing her to lean back
sharply, mouth open in a gasp.�

�� He
pulled the material, tying it awkwardly, but enough to keep her bound.� Her face contorted into one of protest.� He pulled, sliding her forward against him
once more, and again, took her mouth.

�� "Aoshi-mmph!"� Her protest met his lips and died.� He kissed her possessively, probing,
touching, and seeking territory to claim like a rabid conqueror.�

�� But
she was his already.

�� He
just needed to convince her of it.

�� Just a little more...

�� Always a little more...

�� His
mouth moved lower, his tongue laving over her collar bone, sliding, sucking, enjoying the salty flavor of her.� As his fingers slid just beneath the waist
band he leaned further, tipping her slightly back, his
mouth sweeping over a rosy crest.

�� "Aoshi...sama..."�� She gasped as he tightened his mouth,
suckling, flicking his tongue against her nub as he pushed the thin fabric of
her half-slip up to her waist.

�� At
once, a hand slid between her thighs, admiring the softness of her skin and the
tautness of her muscles before sliding lower.

�� He
cupped her mound, pressing the broad of his hand against her, her uninhibited
cry delighting him.

�� Momentarily,
he wondered if the others could hear.

�� Momentarily,
he worried.

�� Momentarily,
he reconsidered... and then he decided.

�� He
was going to have her, damn whatever anyone else thought.� He wanted to hear his lover's voice raised
because of him.

�� As
he drew his fingers forward, sliding against the wet folds of her womanhood he
drew his mouth back to meet her eyes.�

�� Glazed
and passion tinted, she was beautiful.�
He parted her nether lips and slid his fingers against her bundle of
nerves boldly, reveling the way her body trembled and shuddered.�

�� She
tried to speak, her voice breaking on his name.�
He continued to stroke her, watching her gasp and struggle, feeling the
weakness of her body as she fought to remain kneeling and not to fall back.

�� Her
eyes clenched shut when he brought her to a peak, her body going stiff and then
shuddering violently against him.� He
pressed his fingers back, seeking the entrance of her core, sliding one digit
in her.�

�� He
could feel the spasms against his finger and wanted the same for his aching
cock.� He massaged her softly, sliding it
in and out of her as he leaned forward to capture the other nipple in his
mouth.

�� Misao moaned softly, weakly as he slid his finger out.� She felt the wetness of her as he pressed his
hands to her thighs, lifting her.�� She
opened hazy eyes to watch him undo the clasps of his garment, from the top of
his neck straight to his waist.

�� He
stripped it down, letting her eyes rove over his battle scarred chest and then
lower as he peeled it back lower to free his engorged manhood.� He didn't look down as he slid his hand around
his length, watching her as she watched him slowly pump himself.

�� "Misao..."�

�� She
didn't respond as he voiced her name, her eyes trained on the motion of his
hand.� When she whimpered softly, he
released himself, reaching for her hips, he lifted her.� He drew his legs in, folding them in his
meditation style sitting her on him.

�� As
much as he wanted to push forward, to slide into her and abandon all need of
any further consent than what he already had, he couldn't.

�� "Yes or no?"�

�� He
felt the faint tremble of her body, but made no move to release her bound hands
or to penetrate her, the latter of which was almost making him tremble.

�� "...shi-sama..."

�� It
was all the answer he cared to wait for.�
He slid his hand around his shaft again and aligned her hips.� She guided herself against him moaning softly
as he met and then pressed at the entrance of her.

�� She
moved her hips, pushing down, pushing him inside.� He didn't move, his body tensed and frozen
beneath her as he waited for her to fill herself with him, too overtaken by the
sensation of seeing her, willingly, taking him.

�� She
stopped short; gasping and he reached for her hips and thrust his beneath her,
filling her completely causing her to cry out sharply.

��

�� He
was lost.� Reality broke and shattered
around him, the scent of pine and forest filled his head, swimming about him
and the soft feel of her hips against his palms was all he registered.� He groaned, his hips jumping beneath her in
want, in a desperate ache.

�� "Aoshi-sama..."

�� Her
voice flitted through his ears and his eyes snapped open.� Misao's breath was
hot against his shoulder and her body was awkwardly situated in his lap, with
her clothes binding her wrists behind her.

�� She
didn't struggle her hips moved, shifting awkwardly against his as though trying
to squeeze more of him inside her.� He
reached for the cloth and pulled it, yanking it away from her hands and she
stretched up, looping her arms around his neck.�
He bent down into her embrace and tightened his hands upon her hips, her
moan sending a breath of hot air against his skin.

�� He
guided her hips against him, jerking more than leading.� His pulse pounded in her ears as he grated
her body against his, her bones jarring against his as they collided messily.

�� The
tenderness of the moment was lost as his hands tightened and he pulled her onto
him hard.� He groaned as his body coiled
tight with pleasure and his fingers dug into her skin as he grabbed and pushed
her back.� She fell off of him and onto
the futon bedding with a gasp of surprised and he unfolded himself and crawled
over her, lifting her hips up and drove himself into her hard.

�� Beneath
him, she arched, her voice was sharp and pitched as she cried out, in delight
or surprise, he couldn�t tell.� His
thrusts were short and hard as he moved in her, his back arched over her tiny
frame.�

�� He
stared at her, eyes glazed and body flushed and his cock hardened further
inside her.� His eyes closed as he dipped
his head, sweat beading at his temples.�
He grunted, his thrusts become erratic as it
felt like all the muscles down his spine tightened as his seed rushed forth.

�� He
collapsed onto her and Misao�s arms slid around his
neck, cuddling against him and he sighed.

�� What
had he just done?

*�� *�� *�� *
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In Err, My Suffering