Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Misao's Forbidden Night ❯ Misao's Forbidden Night ( One-Shot )

Forbidden Night

"You know, I'm very grateful to you for walking me home tonight, Mr Shinomori. I don't think I could have got home without you." The girl stood in the doorway to the large house in Nara, speaking in a not so well hushed whisper to keep from waking her fellow students and her sensei's.

Misao had to hold on tightly to the doorframe to keep from falling. She had done that a lot that evening at the party. Fallen into drunkenness, constantly fallen into Aoshi's arms, and now she could feel herself falling in a very different way. She hoped it was the alcohol. "Thank you so much for a wonderful evening."

Aoshi looked at her. She was tipsy, no doubt about it, but after she had been introduced to him, the sake cup had been discretely been changed for one of water, which made all the difference. Her cheeks were pink tinted, though he guessed it was more from embarrassment at this point than the alcohol, which seemed to be wearing off now. She looked as uneasy as he felt. He wondered if it was for the same reasons.

"It doesn't matter, really." He told her without smiling. "I had fun too." They stood there for a while, saying nothing only breathing the night air, unwilling to part company, and yet too intimidated to move closer.

"Are you… staying far from here, Aoshi?" ventured Misao eventually.

"I'm staying a few streets away from here, in the next district. I'm from Kyoto, so I'll be returning tomorrow."

"Oh, I see." Misao looked at the ground, the summer night had been warm although somewhat breezy and the flowers were into their last blooms. "Well, I hope to see you again. Maybe if-"

She didn't have the chance to finish her sentence before Aoshi bit the bullet, tilted her chin up and kissed her. Her entire body felt like it was on fire. A slow, deep, caressing kiss, and she felt weak. If she had any doubt left in her mind at that point, it evaporated. She put her arms around his waist and pulled his muscular torso gently towards her.

Her heart raced as he returned the touch, and they stood there kissing under the protective shadow of the new moon. He could taste vaguely the sake on her lips, and his weak tolerance for the substance gave him the excuse to his rationality to why he behaved this way, choosing to ignore the fact that he kissed her first.

Even when they broke briefly to breathe, he moved his hand to push her plaited hair aside to kiss her neck softly and sweetly. Misao felt herself tremble, and Aoshi believed it to be the cold, holding her even tighter.

A door slid open. Both of them froze to the spot. Upstairs, one of the girls, Tsukiyama, went into another room. Still Aoshi and Misao seemed motionless in time, listening as the youth spoke.

"Sakura-sensei… Sakura-sensei, I had a bad dream."

"Mmm… huh? Oh, come here, Tsukiyama."

"Can I stay in with you tonight?"

"What? Oh yes, pull the door to, will you?" There was a brief pause, and then the tap of wood on wood as Tsukiyama closed the door, leaving the room adjacent to Misao's free.

Misao's muscles relaxed again, perhaps a little too much. "Aoshi…" she whispered, "I'm so sorry but… I don't think I can continue to stand out here like this. I feel a little dizzy. Would you mind overly if I asked you to help me inside?"

"Not at all." He replied, turning her round so that she faced where she was going to walk. His left hand held hers, and his right arm was curled around her middle to stop her falling. He noticed upon setting foot inside, the delicate air of cherries that lingered about the place. "Where is it you want to go?" he asked politely, setting her down with great care to remove both their sets of footwear, and his trench coat.

"My room is the far left corner."

"I see." Nodded Aoshi, as though taking this in for a reference at a later date. "Misao, would you mind if I asked you something?"

"Anything." Replied Misao; still whispering as they climbed the stairs in the same manner as entering the house.

"Do you usually sleep alone, without sharing your room with anyone else?" He went out of his way not to cause offence with this question, and yet Aoshi could not prevent the seeming of a double question if you read between the lines.

"The only person with access to that room is me. I sleep alone. Well, usually." Realising what it was she just said, she covered her mouth and looked away, shamefully.

However, now things were clear and no longer coloured by the fog of misinterpretation. To cover her embarrassment, Aoshi whispered in her ear as they got to the top of the wooden staircase, "Does `usually' include tonight?"

Those green eyes of hers, fluttered to meet the cool blue of his. They weren't misted by alcohol anymore, Aoshi noticed, and he found them enticing. He felt as though he could gaze forever into those eyes, and never feel the need to return to the rest of the world. He never wanted her to look away, never wanted those eyes to see anyone but him.

What flew across Misao's mind at that moment was a feeling that this man before her could look at her and know everything. Her secrets, her feelings, her mysteries, hopes and fears and all other else. Her very soul felt stripped and naked before those ice blue eyes, and gripped not to move with the intensity of his gaze. It frightened and exited her.

In answer to his question, she opened her own door, stepped through, paused, and then took him by both hands before gently leading him in. When she let go, to find that someone had already made her futon for her, Aoshi closed the door making not a single sound.

He found her knelt by the one futon, and her hands smoothing the fabric, with her eyes closed. Aoshi knelt gently beside her, and kissed her neck, feeling the warmth as her blood pulsed through her veins under the skin. Her eyes stayed closed, but her hands found his and her fingers intertwined with his own, slowly and deliberately. She sighed and relaxed beside his body, and then he reached to touch her face.

Aoshi was wearing his Oniwaban uniform for the sake of the party being more for business reasons to him. His intended was in special clothes which the Tenshi Deshi were expected to wear when representing the school. Misao therefore, donned a pale grey kimono with a cherry tree on the right breast.

They were kneeling beside each other, which made it neither too easy nor difficult when Misao reached across Aoshi and lifted the navy pullover off over his head. It messed up his hair a little, but with loving caress, she soon sorted that out. In return, he undid first her obi clasp, the tie and then the obi itself, placing all to one side.

With a small smile, the rarest of things, he lifted Misao just far enough so she was on the futon, and then moved the pillow out of the way, so she could lie down flat. He stood up to remove his own trousers, and when he stood there naked, Misao took her own cue, and shed the last wrapper of her kimono, and moved it out of the way.

The candlelight flickered a little, and Aoshi lowered himself onto her body slowly, cautious to gauge every little reaction from her. Her hands trailed down his torso, but her eyes never moved from his face for a moment. The smile was long gone, and he touched her body too. Whilst he was pressed to her, entering her parted hips, he softly, though firmly squeezed at her breasts, then lowered his lips to her ear and he pushed a rhythm, and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Why?" murmured his lover, caught up in waves of sensual pressure as she ground herself into him.

"This is what I…" he drew breath sharply, "I was fantasising… with you for most of the evening." He nuzzled his face to hers, and Misao let escape a deep moan of pleasure. "These feelings… desire and lust, I…" he pressed a little harder, "I don't… I'm not meant to…"

"Shhh," she silenced him with a finger to his lips, "I understand."

Two passionate bodies merged into each other, moving at the steady pace of a burning candle, mixed perspiration and two voices expressing quietly and intimately what they felt. There was no rush to finish, but the sex was as deep and fulfilling for her, as it was a soothing pure ecstasy for him.

Even as they approached their climax, things felt as intense as it could be, and both found themselves breathing deeply, in time with their partner and human speed, despite this being irregular. Misao came just before Aoshi, though it made little difference.

"Thank you," she whispered, feeling drowsy.

But Aoshi was already asleep, it seemed. His light, but powerful muscular frame nestled to her body, his head cradled between her bosom and chin. His hands were paced one above her navel, and the other onto the futon. His breathing had already slowed to make no sound, exhausted from giving Misao his all. Listening to his heartbeat, the one they shared, even she eventually succumbed to exhaustion and dreams.