A/N: My apologies. Something went wrong with uploading so I had deleted this story and tried it again - turns out that this site is rather slow and that in combination with my computer made everything even slower. My mistake, luckily all's well that ends well. Ignore (again) or enjoy (again), your choice.


WOODEN SWORDS & POLISHED KUNAI


Yoshiwara in Flames Aftermath

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"Listen; the city is waking up.

The living don't live to mourn the dead.

Our roads will never stop leading to rays of the next sunrise.

Even the hardest, loneliest and darkest days cannot stop time from healing our wounds.

The chains that bound our eternal night are broken.

Thanks to three samurai and our guardian the city of women is now free.

Thus my place is here - holding the hand of this little warrior.

I won't leave Seita's side for a man who's story has ended - not again.

That's why, my sister, I have a request.

His place is under the blazing sun.

Not here. Not with me.

I know that your hands are full but,

allow me to count on the strength of the Moon of Yoshiwara,

Tsukuyo."

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The work of the Courtesan of Death had only just begun.

The woman next to him thanked him with the promise to pay them back soon - she gave him a silent look when he said that his actions weren't thankworthy though he wouldn't decline the company of a good woman and some tea - and then left to help the woman on the roof.

The Sun of Yoshiwara had been brought there on request in order to give a dying man some peace. After the last threat had bade them farewell with a plastic smile a gentle hand closed the eyes of the broken man on her lap and a soft voice whispered an unheard farewell as she bowed her head. Silent minutes passed until the courtesan looked up and locked gazes with the understanding eyes of the Moon of Yoshiwara. Hinowa answered the unspoken question with a nod.

The wounded kunoichi was capable enough to carry the disabled courtesan to a rest place while at the same time giving orders to the few women of the Hyakka force who weren't gravely injured or death. She had already set the beginning of the reparations of the building in motion when she re-entered the palace and before leaving the hall where the fight had taken place someone was already put in charge of harboring the dead bodies.

Something deep, deep inside him recognized the look in her eyes when she mentioned those women because the years spent in blood were carved into his very soul and watched in silence as it knew about the cruelty of unwelcome - no matter how well-intended - words from an outsider. From now on they would be the ones to decide what they wanted to do with their city. Further interference might cause more damage than it would heal.

His two employees automatically walked over to him. He would have to severely interrogate them about those injuries, tomorrow. For now a good night's rest was probably the best medicine for their aching and throbbing bodies.

The three of them left. Automatically the two children looked over their shoulders, yet, he didn't.

She had everything under control.