A/N: Uhh, yeah. . . Another Sengoku Basara Ranse Renbu fic. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing—other than unknown characters, aka OCs, mentioned.

Warnings: OCs, possible OoC-ness, pairings

Silenced

He was quite man. A man of little or no words at all. He doesn't speak. He doesn't show emotion. His eyes are covered. His lips are always sealed, if not, then no sound comes from his mouth. He attacks gracefully, using the wind-element to ambush and/or surprise his opponents. He attacks quickly, dashing from one side of the field to the other; jumping on the corpses, flying through the air, slashing their bodies rapidly.

And yet, he shows nothing.

And yet, he says nothing.

But still, he does feel something right? Anything possibly.

And maybe, that is the reason why I fell for him.

I don't fall for anyone—if that is what you call it. I call it, strictly admiration.

I cannot say how or why it even started.

I love blood; I love it maybe more than I love myself or anyone else. The only one comparable to my love for blood was my violent love for my lord. Most of the soldiers say that I do love him—Lord Mistuhide—but I don't really know. . . I think I do, but that is what the more irrational side of my mind thinks.

But I admire the silent killer; he shows nothing, even when blood—such sweet, sweet blood—coats him like the rain does.

I wonder, during the next battle, will I see him again? A part of me hopes so. . .

I see bodies—corpses—falling onto the ground. Screams of pain fill the air. And such crimson blood seeping through the gashes. I laugh uncontrollably, this is war, and war is ecstasy. . .

I can see him, not literally see him through the forming fog, but still see his flying form. Short swords slide along the necks of the soldiers, blood gashing almost instantly. I smiled widely as the sight. I didn't fear it, I was somewhat amazed by his agility and quickness in killing. If only I was that—

I could feel him, the swords pressed down my neck, both on either side. Possibly, in one quick slash, I'd end up dead. I could tell he was very close, heat from his body radiated onto my back, with me shivering in strange delight.

He didn't move, I didn't move. It was as if time stopped between us, but still the battle ahead of me still went on.

I decided to ask him, "Will you kill me? Right now?"

Silence, other than the breeze blowing through the trees; he pressed the swords down harder.

"Will you? Because I'm willing enough to die. I want to see what hell is like." I laughed almost silently.

Silence once more, I didn't fight back, even if I wanted to; my weapon was out my reach, with only a few more inches. . .

It was awkward then, but silent still. He didn't flinch or move a muscle, but I can feel his steady breathing on my neck; hot, hot air radiating onto my cold skin.

This feels too much, I can feel my vision blur for awhile. . .

Then, the blades were gone, leaving thin, shallow wounds near my collar bone. He was gone. . .

I felt a bit sad. But strangely, I can still feel the heat of his skin on my back, the sound of his breathing in my ears, and a static, tingling feeling on my lips.

Next thing I knew, I was hit by a sick, ecstatic feeling all over. I moaned loudly as I wrapped my arms around me and fell onto my back, part of it resting on a tree.

I felt giddy and excited, I feel like I wanted to see him more, to feel how it is to fight him, to feel his presence once more. But that is all in my dreams. . .

Now, I have to return, I might actually get killed out here. . .

A/N: Haha, done. . . It's kinda suckish, but it's the middle of the night here. . . So, yeah. Read and review, because I just might read and review yours too!