Silent.

Calm.

Shinomori Aoshi sat before the shrine as he had sat for several hours. He was almost inhumanly calm, his face serene and his eyes closed as he meditated. In the deep, pervasive silence of the small temple, he seemed merely another part of it all.

Quiet.

Silent.

Calm--

"Aoshi-sama?"

His eyes opened. He didn't have to turn around to see who had disturbed his solitude. Who else but-- "Misao."

Her sandals made little scuffling sounds against the floor as she fidgeted. "I was wondering if you wanted something to eat," she blurted.

"No."

"But you've been here since dawn."

He was silent.

"You must be hungry. It's nearly noon."

"No."

"But--"

"Go home, Misao. I don't need anything."

Still she remained, fidgeting even more. "Are you coming home tonight?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to eat?" she persisted.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

His voice, when he spoke, held all the unwavering authority that had led the Oniwabanshuu since he was fifteen. "Go home, Misao."

She sighed. The steps of the temple creaked slightly as she trudged down them. The sounds of her sandals against the path soon faded, leaving Aoshi alone again.

His eyes remained open, staring unseeing at the statuary of the shrine. His hands, resting lightly on his knees, slowly curled into fists.

I beg of you, take this love from me. She doesn't deserve what I've become, and I don't deserve what she's become. But every moment I see her, my foolish heart bleeds more. I want her, I need her, like breath or food or water. Please take it away and leave me in peace.

Please.