A samurai that smells like sunflowers? Sunflowers don't have a scent. Doesn't that mean that a samurai like that doesn't exist?

The voice cuts deeply through the fog of her mind and brings her back to reality. She looks up into the face of the one-eyed man and only sees laughter reflected back. He pulls tighter on the ropes that he is binding her with and breath escapes her bruised lips.

"It won't be for a while. He won't show up for a while," he says, giving one last sharp tug to keep the ropes in place. His hand slides down the side of her hip and lifts the hem of the kimono.

She remembers what he touched before he knocked her unconscious and she begins to wriggle in her bindings, her head jutting forward as if to bite him.

He steps back a few feet and wags his finger in front of her face, too far away to be touched.

"Tch, tch. Now, you don't have to make this worse than it already is," he steps closer again as Fuu rests her head back against the wood, exhausted. "That's right. There's nothing you can do. And he can't do anything about it either."

His hand is on her thigh again and it begins to crawl upwards.

"Get away from me!" Fuu cries, face flushed and throat raw.

With his free hand he slaps her across the face, the impact twisting her head to the right. He presses his cheek against her exposed neck and whispers in her ear as his hand crawls higher, "He's watching this, you know. My brother. He may not look like he's there but he's enjoying every minute of it."

Fuu looks up to see the brother in the wheelchair, his dead-like eyes watching her. His lips twitch into a smile and then it disappears.

The man's hands finally reach the top of her inner thigh and he presses his lips against her neck. "I love doing this," he whispers as his fingers curl inside of her.

The same tearing pain as before shoots up through Fuu's body and she cringes against him. Her eyes are watering and she gasps.

"Gasp again," he whispers against her neck as he forces his hand further.

"Help. Please," whispers Fuu, her throat closing around the words.

"You're no fun," cries the man, pulling away from her. Without another word he picks up his scythe and knocks her out again.

No! It can't be!