A/N: Dynasty Warriors 7; I must have it for Xbox. Seriously, this game's driving me insane in writing fics when it isn't even out yet; and I doubt that I can actually have it. So well, rather than being all emotional, I present a one-shot.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything; Zhi Rebellion (all people with Zhi in their name—in this fic Zhi Yi) belongs to me.


Tactics and Strategy


"One cannot live with mere tactics alone; he must master the strategy of creating the perfect tactic."

"Then one must master strategy first, before he does tactics."

"But so he must make a tactic on how he can master the strategy of tactics."


Their conversations were often open-ended, they never agreed on one thing alone. They could never fully agree with each other, it's either she points out flaws in his or he points out flaws in hers. And yet, how can they be a match made in heaven—or in hell?

He was highly skilled in strategic battle plans; often there is a ninety-five percent chance that her war tactics always led to victory. He was trained as a militant strategist; she was taught to fight from afar, with bows and with tactics. He was often composed, thinking of how to create the perfect army; she was often calmly jotting away with several battle plans. He was often in the library with either literary or historical texts; she was often hidden away with books historical battles, pointing out flaws in strategy.

They pointed out flaws in each other; in stance, in skill, in thoughts, in words, in actions—everything.

"There is not a single flaw in this strategy, yours I think; has more than one." She pointed out, comparing her new strategy with his.

"There is none of yours, because you wrote it, the writer always thinks that he is correct, even if he is not." He replied to her, pointing at the diagram. "A triple-circular formation does not give ample protection."

"Protection? You think this is for defense? It's a battle formation, an offensive tactic." She retorted, "Crossbows and archers surround the enemy on the outside; cavalry on the innermost circle; and two lines of foot soldiers back-to-back on the middle." She explained.

"Yes, but, won't the archers have no defense against the enemy?"

"The enemy would have no choice, they are completely surrounded."

"Why not have the cavalry switch places with the archers? That seems much more protective and offensive at the same time."

"This is my strategy, I created it, and it's not yours." She hissed.

"And yet you are mine," He stroked her cheek, forcing her to back away and turn away from him, "Which means that your strategy is my strategy as well; I have a right to change it," He paused, "My dear, dear, wife."

She cringed at the word, "Wife, how can you even call me one if the feeling is not mutual?" She rolled up the scroll and placed it on the desk, "That marriage was just to ally the Zhi with the Jin; nothing more and nothing less."

"Nothing more and nothing less," He repeated drawing closer to her, "But you did not deny the proposal," He cupped her face from behind, "All because of a daughter's love for her dear, dear family." He chuckled lightly.

"Do not take it lightly, dear—" She spat the last word, "I can break the marriage anytime I please and put both the Zhi and the Jin under war."

"And your father wouldn't like that would he? And neither do you."

"Of course I don't, who would want to go into war with someone who already knows everything!" She spun away from him, meeting his eyes with a glare.

"Correct, and that is why you have no courage to break the alliance." He stated calmly, motioning her to come close.

"No courage, true; but no want? Not at all," She turned away, reaching the door she said, "And remember this marriage is just superficial, this is just for the alliance; nothing more, Sima Shi." And she left.


"Marriage is not only the joining of two families, but also the joining of two souls."


He left a white lily with a note one her bedside table, "Sima Shi, you are a genius, yes." She smiled sarcastically, "But also a sentimental fool." She got up from her bed and prepared for the day's hassles; arguments, persuasions, strategic thinking, mostly that's what made up her life.

She was on her way to the dining hall, when her eyes met a sickeningly familiar figure in the library.

"She was so entrancingly beautiful that fish would forget how to swim and sink away from the surface when she walks by; so beautiful that her appearance would entice birds in flight to fall from the sky; so luminously lovely that the moon itself would shy away in embarrassment when compared to her face; and she was said to have a face that puts all flowers to shame." He read aloud,

"Then is there such a person so impossibly intellectual that mystics found themselves unable to speak?" She entered, a suspicious look on her face, "So you are getting so foolishly sentimental."

"Yes, but," He paused, closing the book, "Marriage is the only thing holding this alliance together, so why not liven it up a little?" He smiled, frighteningly smiled.

"Liven it up? Are you getting as foolish as your brother?"

"There is a possibility yes, but he and Lady Yuanji are doing quite well."

"Stop changing the subject, why are you becoming sentimental all of a sudden?"

"We not only join two different armies, but we join two people." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Two people, but the feeling is not mutual, so the joining is not complete."

"Then why not complete it? Are you afraid that something unexpected will occur?"

She paused, assembling her thoughts, "Bearing children is such a primitive matter, and I worry about what the family would think."

He was caught dumbfounded, nearly cracking a humored smile, "Children? I say unexpected and you say bearing children." He cracked a small smile, "There are no forms of incapability in either of us, so as you say, worry about what the family would think if we were to have an heir."

"That's absurd!" Her face became a furious crimson, "An heir is just—just—entirely absurd! I meant, why would we even want to? Or how could—No, no, it's impossible, it's—" She was lost in a maze of thoughts, not noticing that he was drawing closer.

"Again," He said, dangerously close to her, "This marriage is the alliance between the Zhi and the Jin, nothing more and nothing less."

"Nothing more," She said, backing away slowly, but the hand on the back of her neck stopped her,

"Nothing more, but love is not more than marriage." He leaned closer to her, "Love is the main structure of marriage."

"You are a sentimental fool, Sima Shi." Her hands reached onto his shoulders, "And just so you know, I did agree on this alliance also because you are a very intellectual man." She placed her lips onto his in a chaste kiss, "And I give you that, nothing more and nothing less." She whispered, still close to him.


When the celebratory dinner was over, and when the late evening comes, the morning situation dissolves.


The armor on her unraveled itself; the chest plate dropped to the ground, the arm guards slid off her, the leg protectors were kicked off, and she was left with nothing but her usual daily, silken clothing.

She dropped face-first onto her bed, "The battle is over, but the war has just begun." She muttered, turning her head to the side and placing her hands on either side of it.

"The battle can never be over," She heard his voice, echoing the hall.

"But it has, we just have to finish the war." She replied, watching him enter her quarters, "A gentleman like you must know that it is forbidden to enter a woman's quarters without permission." She rolled over to her side, using the covers to hide her—quite exposed self.

"Unless the man happens to be the woman's spouse," He walked closer to her, the usual armor gone; having only blue silken robes.

"Well, in respect of his dear wife's privacy—" She hissed, sitting in an upright position, the covers over her shoulders, "The husband must ask for her permission."

"And I have all the permission I need," He leaned close, arms on either side of her, his face alarmingly close to hers; forcing her to back up until she reached the headboard, arms clutching the covers.

"You—you have turned into a complete fool, Sima Shi." She said warily, "What has gotten into you?" She avoided his eyes and gazed on his lower visage; lips slowly calling out to her.

"My dear Zhi Yi," He whispered her name as he brought a calloused hand to her cheek, "This is nothing, but part of the alliance." He smiled, lips forming into a slight curve at one end.

"Part of the alliance?" She said near-breathlessly, "You fool," She scolded, "The alliance had nothing to do with antics such as this,"

"The alliance is a form of marriage and this is part of the marital rights." He placed his forehead onto hers, breathing calmly.

"Marital rights?" She questioned, placing a hand on his chest, motioning him to pull away, but he did not. "I do believe that I agreed on nothing but the—"

The mere sensation of warmth from one's lips to another's nearly drove her wild; he was kissing her, an act only sentimental couples would do. Surely he had become a bit sentimental, but this was taking the entire "alliance-by-marriage" agreement a bit too far.

She breathed against him, "S-Stop," but he did not comply, in fact he did the complete opposite; his arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer, the hand on her cheek was now stroking it with mere tenderness, and he still refused to stop his current action.

"This—" She panicked, quite new to all of these sudden impulses, "This is just foolish," Her hand on his chest slowly pushed him away, but he held her tighter.

He pulled away, but never let his grip weaken, "In love, nothing is." He whispered against her lips, hot air filling her senses.

"True, you are a literary genius, but this is just—" She can feel the heat from him radiating through her palms, "This is just, far too much. . ."

"What is?" The hand continuously stroked her cheek tenderly.

"This, this—" She was at loss of words, "This thing that sentimental lovers do, it's just far too much."

"Love," He chuckled softly, "For us, nothing is too much; but possibly there is something too less." He looked at her quite embarrassed expression and smile to himself.

"I think my strategy went out perfectly," He stated, the usual monotone.

"Strategy? Wait, this is all part of a plot?" She inquired, a furious red dawning her face.

"The prefect tactic," He repeated smugly.

"Perfect tactic, for what?"

"For getting you to agree with me."

"I never agreed with you since—!" She was caught speechless by him once more.

He broke off with a soft smack, "And that is why it's the perfect tactic, you agree by not completing your statement."

"Well, of course I couldn't!" She exclaimed in light anger, "The kiss stopped me from doing so!" The furious blush, growing ever deeper.

"So you would call it a kiss then?" He inquired with a mischievous look.

"Alright then," She sighed, calming herself, "Then what you call a kiss?"

He smirked, "This," The hand held her face firm as he slowly placed his lips on hers.

It was chaste, still and unmoving, until he decided to; his bottom lip moved, slightly nibbling hers. She was shocked at first, but then complied. Slowly, flows of passion and hidden desire flowed from one's lips to another's; completing, what she would say, a totally "sentimental pair of lovers".

It ended as is; they stared at each other for a while once they broke apart, each lightly taking in deep breaths. They gazed at each other; desires and passions, rivalries and arguments, reflecting on each other. She smiled and embraced him, arms around his torso and chin resting idly upon his shoulder. He replied nearly whole-heartedly, pulling her ever closer, leaving only a few sheets of fabric between them.

"You are becoming a sentimental fool," She breathed onto his ear,

"But at least I can get you to agree with me." He replied.

"Which is wrong, I will never agree with you on anything." She stated monotonously, "Because you and I are two different people, raised from different situations. A literary scholar and a war-fed tactician; the perfect marriage for a match made in hell."

"But you will soon enough; the wife always agrees with her husband." He stroked her back gently.

"But this is not just a wife who agreed on the proposal because of love. This is a wife who agreed on the proposal because she wanted her family's army to raise morale to strengthen the forces for war."

"As I said," He sighed, "The wife will always agree with her husband soon enough."

"Then let the husband keep on hoping, because she never will."


A/N: Pretty long, eh? First fic for DW7. . . Read and Review please!