Epilogue

Misao winced slightly as she felt Aoshi's grip on her hand tighten. Looking up to him lovingly, she whispered, "Are you ready, Aoshi?"

Aoshi stiffened, his dark eyes blending into her light ones in sudden comprehension, "Aa."

"Good… I hoped the news wouldn't disappoint you."

"You have not yet disappointed me in any aspect." Misao couldn't help but smile at the rare compliment, closing her eyes contentedly. Silence enveloped the two as Misao rested against Aoshi, her loose hair tickling his bare chest and their hands linked—a year had passed, and they had not yet tired of each other's touch. Aoshi's even breaths soothed Misao into a warm state of drowsiness; she was slipping into the folds of sleep when Aoshi's voice brought her back to consciousness, "When did you know?"

"…When I realized that I've missed my monthlies for the second month in a row."

"Perhaps we should call Takani-sensei."

"Already? I'm only on my second month; I have about seven more to go—we should wait at least for another six."

"You should also ask Himura and his wife to visit."

"Hmm… good idea. Now Aoshi, I'm craving something."

Aoshi frowned slightly: did womanly cravings start that early into pregnancy? He couldn't see Misao's face, which held an expression of roguish anticipation as she continued wistfully, "I've felt like I've really wanted a kiss for the last few minutes."

Aoshi smiled minutely, "Aa, I would be more than happy to oblige." Shifting upright, he rolled over rapidly, leaning over his wife in an instant with a consuming expression, his eyes raking over his wife's nude figure in unguarded admiration. Misao didn't even have a moment to react before Aoshi's mouth descended roughly onto hers, his kiss nearly crushing her. Waves of pleasure washed over her as she let out a moist sigh, letting Aoshi's tongue slip into her yielding mouth. Her breath was caught in her throat when she felt his hands on her body, her hands clenching onto his shoulders and drawing him closer to her as they performed an intimate ritual—a dance of the most sacred form.

Misao held onto the tightly woven rope before her tightly, the blood pooling between her legs. She grimaced: all this blood didn't seem right. Megumi had been correct—childbearing would be difficult for her, but she knew she and her child would live through this ordeal. At least she could feel the baby fighting to come out into the air—it encouraged her to think that the both of them were fighters, both battling to survive in the world together. Gritting her teeth together as she obeyed Kaoru and Megumi's set breathing pattern, Misao repressed the urge to scream.

Aoshi stood immobile behind the sliding door, his fists clenched and eyes tightly shut. The silence was worse than anything—Misao was too stubborn for her own good. If she didn't make a noise of some sort, how was he to know if the labor was going well or going badly? Aoshi restrained himself from barging through the door—Megumi had expressly emphasized the importance of keeping the husband out of the labor room, and he knew the logic behind this idea, even if his heart protested separation from his wife in this crucial moment. A soothing hand settled on his shoulder: Himura. The small man gave him a fleeting smile, "Once, Misao jumped over a chasm she had no hopes of crossing. She made it out alive because of her burning desire to live only a life with you in it. In some ways, she has a strength that matches your own. Trust in her, Aoshi-dono." Aoshi nodded, turning from the doorway to face the window, watching the icicles hanging from the roof shed crystal drops onto the unblemished snow.

Soft hands had awakened her. Misao struggled to open her heavy-lidded eyes—she felt murky, hazy and maimed. Warmth entered her body as she gathered her senses. Someone was washing her body carefully, tenderly. A bloody cloth in a basin came into view; large hands raised to wring the water out of another small cloth. Aoshi, absorbed with the task of cleansing his wife, had not noticed her awakening, and continued to clean her thighs gently. Misao smiled wearily, shifting her head to look to her right. Aoshi, noticing the sudden movement, looked up in surprise. Following his wife's gaze with fierce pride and throbbing love, settling on the crib where the results of Misao's labor lay. Aoshi faced his wife once more when she spoke abruptly, her voice startlingly clear, "So… if I remember correctly, there's not only one, but two?"

I hope that was subtle enough, yet satisfying for those who wanted an epilogue. It seemed like I kinda picked up on the touchy-feelyness towards the end of this piece, eh? Ergh, sorry… it seems like sappiness won me over. Gah… maybe I'll rewrite the ending when I feel like I've got a better one in mind. Until then, keep on encouraging me by reading and reviewing my other stories. I greatly cherish insightful comments, although the small number of reviews did not discourage me… I had posted chapters 1-6 all at once on Ffnet, so I guess it just took readers a while to figure out that this story was there. By the way, did anyone catch the metaphor in there?