'No,' says Togame, holding Seito Hakari before her like a barrier. 'No, you don't deserve to know. Playing with people's lives like this...how are you any different from a bully?'' She asks this as though it's an order, a command, like she's already sitting at the shogun's right side, whispering suggestions into his ear. In her mind, perhaps she already is.

Higaki Rinne tilts his head to one side and it twists into an exact relica of her father's.

Togame holds back the urge to scream.

'I'm not in control of what you see here,' he tells her, his voice that same odd mix of kindly jauntiness that she both remembers and loathes and maybe, at the same time, kind of adores. 'You do that. You see what you've always wanted to forget here. Things you both love and hate. You need them, even when you think you don't.'

For one terrible moment, Togame thinks he can see all the way inside her, that's he's going to divulge her terrible secret; that everything inside her, every little scrap of emotion she ever felt is nothing more than a tool to get her closer to her goal. If she treats them as lesser than what they truly are, then she can hold back the tide, become the perfect weapon. It hurts now, to realise that this is probably the last thing her father ever wanted for her. But even that, in turn, is nothing more than a pawn; fuel she can use to burn her way forward.

So she holds both names inside her chest, cradling them close, both his and the one he gave her.

'No,' she says again and walks away.

Emonzaemon, watching from his hiding place, never finds out the link between her and the land she's refused to visit for over twenty years.

Togame sits in front of Hitei in her mansion, roses trailing down from the ceiling to fall beside her ears. This time there is no Emonzaemon to greet her at the entrance to the city, no gun waiting to fire into her stomach. Princess Yōsha is now just a name lost to time itself.

'I want Entō Jū,' Togame says, taking care to enunciate her words, loud and clear so that Hitei can't take their meaning and twist them into something she'll pretend to mishear.

'Oh,' says the Princess in return. 'What makes you think I have it, my dear little strategian?'

'Does it really suit you to play so coy? Who else would want to spite me so much, that she would go out of her way to collect the last sword before I did? Were you seeking to take the credit perhaps? Really, such a spiteful woman...'

Hitei smiles and rolls her eyes towards the nearest flower, its petal dripping down to her hairline.

'Better spiteful, than to be small and resentful.'

'Tch.'

Shichika's eyes flicker between the two of them while Emonzaemon watches from the darkness. Both remain still as statues, muscles coiled and tense.

'I was wondering though, when you'd come to me. How long it would take you to eventually figure it out and arrive here...'

'I've known ever seen I first offered to throw that strange art project into the lake. You would never put something as tasteless as that on display, not when it clashes so heavily with your precious flowers.'

Hitei tuts loudly. 'What kind of woman is unable to admire flowers?'

Togame doesn't rise to the bait.

'What do you want?' she asks instead. Time is running short and the sun is already falling from the sky. She's so close, so very close and Hitei is once again blocking the door to her ambition.

The princess leans forward, her eyes sharpening into the predatorily gaze of a hawk. No, Togame amends to herself, a snake. A snake just like me.

'Your name,' Hitei breathes out. It's soft, almost silent as she says it but inside the room it feels like a death-blow.

Shichika's hands tense, fastening into his pants as though he can leap across the room and take back time itself.

Togame doesn't flinch.

'Why?' she asks carelessly, like her life doesn't depend on it. 'I would have thought that would be the height of hypocrisy, especially coming from a woman whose origins are shrouded in just as much mystery as my own.'

'Each time I have opposed you, you have crushed me,' Hitei states, 'and you have been just as careful as I when people prod against our background. It has made you a glorious opponent. Especially since we both know – or rather, guessed- that the truth could destroy us. But you've been unusually careless when choosing a partner. Emonzaemon would never betray me. But yet, when I mentioned how Higaki Rinnewas in Hyakkeijou, I saw Shichika tense. It was enough to make me curious. So I'm wondering if you would be kind enough to tell me why your name is probably associated with that forsaken place?'

Togame smiles triumphantly.

'So Emonzaemon wasn't able to find out the secret for you? That makes for a welcome surprise. Usually he's such a good errand boy.'

But Hitei is firm. 'Those are my conditions. You can accept them or walk away with nothing.'

Togame wants to negotiate; she does. She'll miss Hitei once she's dead after all.

'It's never a good idea to threaten someone when you've negotiating,' she says calmly. 'You're giving me a choice; give up the sword and my ambition but live. Or give my name and die. What sort of trade-off is that? You're meant to tantalise me, not give me a final ultimation.'

Hitei leans forward then, her fan covering her mouth to cover the poisonous smirk that lies there. Except it doesn't quite reach her eyes and whatever demonic expression she's trying to create fails; the fan falls short and Togame reads a strange hunger in those foreign blue eyes, a sort of desperation that reminds of her own back when she was a young girl. It pairs up with the memory she has of a reflection, one that stared into her out of a woodland stream as her home burned, the licks of flame collecting everything, even her father's head, as the night wore on.

Later she might muse on what that means. Later she might realise that Hitei was trying to give her a way to back out gracefully, a way to retreat and plan about a different end for this war between them. But not now.

Today she can't afford to dream about Hitei as the maybe-friend she once dreamed of playing with as a young girl, still encased in palace silks. Today she is the definite enemy, a possible assassin who will find a way to make Togame's blood run over the ground through hands that are not her own.

Togame stands up. She walks over to Hitei, breaking every protocol, that's ever existed between them; they're supposed to stand together, or not at all. She takes Hitei's hands as the princess startles to her feet; but it's too late for greetings, for bitter poetry and taunts to fly in the air between them. This is not how things will run today.

Togame leans forward and wraps her arms around Hitei. Her fists squeeze over the black cloth, so lovely and barely touched, as she pretends she is a snake, slowly strangling Hitei to death.

'Shichika,' she says, 'if either of us move away from each other, kill us both. As brutally as possible.'

'Understood,' he says, not the faintest trace of surprise on his tongue.

There is outrage, of course; Emonzaemon may not shout or burst forwards the way Shichika might, but shots still ring out from the ceiling, as immediate as a heartbeat, shots that angle away from the obstructing wooden beams, and towards Togame's head.

'He wouldn't bother trying to disable,' she had told Shichika beforehand, over carefully brewed tea that rested within her delicate fingertips. 'He'd just want to kill. Making a play for Hitei's life is the one thing that's guaranteed to earn a quick no-nonsense death. There's no time for revenge in a situation like that.

I may not know the properties of the last sword, but he'll use them right away. He's been with that sword long enough to want to use it as both a first resort and a last resort; don't look at me like that! ...It's difficult to explain. But basically, he's probably been dependant on it for more than a few kills. He's reliant on it in a way he probably doesn't fully understand or expect. He trusts it; all sword-holders do once they've used it. It fits no one else's hand but my own, they think. So you'll have to learn it's capabilities then, as soon as he uses it. And learn them quick or I'll be dead.'

Shichika hadn't been happy. He wasn't the same man who had once suggested allowing herself to be cut in two. Or the one who had watched her give Maniwa Kyoken a death sentence by inflicting a hypothetical one on herself, with nothing but words boasting of her own weakness.

But Togame didn't care. She had to provoke Emonzaemon into doing something unstable, something that wouldn't waste time. It was a gamble, suggesting that he used the sword for various kills.

But while it may suit Hitei's personality to ghoulishly use the sword as a macabre decoration, if it had practical use she'd want to use it. Giving it to Enzamon, even if only as a test run, was a decent idea if only to make a serious opponent more cautious. Plus, it would explain why she had stated that it would be impossible for him to collect swords; when one man holds a shizuki kiki sword, you don't tempt fate by throwing another into his hands. The poison of one is great, but two? Hitei would be a fool indeed to try it.

And Togame, if grudgingly, can admit that the woman is anything but that.

Shichika's arms reach out. One of them stutters, nearly snaps under the force of a desperate bullet that tries to lodge itself inside Togame's skull – but that's only because Shichika doesn't have the resolve or the preparation to counter. He skids, flopping straight into Togame and the princess, bringing them straight to the ground as his large form covers them both.

Togame grunts, but with satisfaction. Shichika has already swung round, his dark hair and clothes minutely blending into the black waves of the princesses' dress, giving Emonzaemon less than half a second's confusion before he acts. Then Shichika and his arms swing up, charging through both the wood, and indeed, the entire ceiling.

The roof blows off with the force of a hurricane.

Emonzaemon is caught up within the falling timber. But he is nimble, dodging ragged planks of wood that twists and spins as it is tossed through the air, as though caught in the air-torrent of a natural gale. Not even a splinter grazes his form, even with Shichika launching himself off the ground and following his trail of movement with his eyes.

'Emonzaemon,' Togame calls out, trying hard not to cough on the dust that spills out around them. 'with one swipe my sword can sever your princess's head; so you should throw yours over. This is no longer a negotiation. This is a hostage situation.'

Hitei remains still; Togame can feel her breaths, pushing up against both her arms and the sash tightened under Hitei's breasts. Then her enemy, and perhaps, in small, stray moments, her friend, laughs. It is a tight, weary chuckle, one that makes something coil in Togame's stomach. Because it sounds just as tired as Togame herself feels, as though Hitei has been holding herself back for years.

'Well-played strageian. As deplorable as ever. Alas; it seems I will not be able expose your hellish heart to the world.'

Togame feels her arms tighten, almost as though not of her own volition. 'Of course not,' she replies lightly, 'it's a hundred years too soon, for a woman like you to unveil me.'

She still half-expects her plan to back-fire. For a pellet, or whatever else that sword shoots out, to come arcing round behind Shichika in an impossible curve to strike her in the head. But it seems that Shichika, despite his limply-hanging arm, has learnt as quickly as she expected him too. Whatever that sword fires out, it only travels in straight lines.

'I could slay your sword; he can only block my shots towards you as long as he is still alive.' Emonzaemon's voice comes out, practically unhindered by his silky swirls of movement. He is as graceful as ever, swinging past the scattered piles of wood as his limbs carefully dodge the green flickering whips attached to them still. It takes Togame a moment to realise that they are the string-like stems of the ripped-out flower decorations, some of their ends still wrapped firmly round the broken ceiling beams. It reminds her of the snapped-free lines of broken nooses; a premonition if ever there was one.

'You could,' she allows, 'but my sword is not the type to fall so easily. And in his last breath, before he so much as touches the ground, his arm will swing out and your princess's head will roll.'

Emonzaemon swings to a stop, his arms outstretched as his fingers rest on the curving buldges beneath the tube-like nozzles of the swords. Some sort of mechanism that allows them to fire, Togame guesses, like a button, or a trigger.

'You are clever,' Emonzaemon allows. 'but even if I hand over my sword, there is no guarantee that you will let my mistress keep her life. And she would not take kindly to me if I did.'

'Ho...' says Hitei, wiggling beneath Togame slightly. 'So my servant knows me that well? How unsightly. I deny your words, I deny whatever reasoning you used to come to them!'

It is strange to see Hitei panic, Togame reflects; even stranger to see her eyes stare up furiously into Togame's own with all the narrow focus of a cat's. Hitei has never allowed herself to come undone not even once.

I wonder, Togame muses, what her last words will be?

'Deny all you like,' she says, 'it won't win you this war.' Then she looks up at Emonzaemon. 'How would you rather die? For her? Or for your pride as...whoever you see yourself as?'

There is a brief silence. Togame can see Shichika wavering in the corner of her vision, heavy streaks of red dashed against his damaged arm. But the resolve in his eyes is steady, firmer than the darkened hue of steel he so desperately wants to prove himself as.

Emonzaemon, in contrast of course, has no face. Togame can't read him, can't allow her analytical focus to dip into his eyes and read his intent. For Emonzaemon ,resolve has always been written into the line of his shoulders as they square up for battle. But then, after a second, that resolve fades into something more muted and his arms fall, the nozzles of the two swords coming to point to the ground.

'Unnecessary,' he says. 'I cannot see myself as anyone. I lost that long ago. I live only to serve the princess. If I cannot die for her, then I cannot live for her either.'

Hitei sucks in a breath. Togame expects a screech, or maybe an order given in a tone dripping with cold venom. But instead, sneaking a peak into her eyes, Hitei just looks...tired. And sulky as well perhaps, like an overgrown child.

'How nice,' she mutters. 'But I deny such foolish sentiment. Just as I deny my own.'

Shichika stiffens at this.

'That's no good,' he says softly and it strikes Togame then, with a sense of astonishment, that this is his version of an admonishment. 'If you do that, you'll never grow. You'll just...stay still.'

Like Emonzaemon perhaps and his mask for a face. The thought is unspoken and perhaps it is not something Shichika intends. But it lies there, in the imagination, the horror of being stuck and free from expression. Denied the choice, rather than making self-denial an actual decision.

Togame pauses. For a moment, her resolve flickers, her heart wavering between an unseen choice. But then the moment passes. And now she can see what form the future will take.

'The swords,' she says firmly. 'Now.'

Emonzaemon steps forward stiffly, the swords hanging from his hands like medallions, ones stiffly arranged to be on display. The fire Togame can see racing up the side of one only completes the effect, the ghoulish streak of red reminding her of the corner of some warlords mural. Carefully, and with no sign of internal deliberation, Emonzaemon reaches up and drops the items into Shichika's waiting palms almost as if he had no previous attachment to them at all.

Togame lets out a breath. Then inclines her head, swiping a kiss alongside the side of Hitei's brow. The princess freezes, her eyes wide and Togame looks at her with a small smile, raising herself with her arms and then stepping back gingerly into Shichika's waiting shadow.

That's all the signal Shichika needs. In the space of a second, his finger hooks into the trigger and then Emonzaemon is staggering back, red blooming through his shirt at the feriousity of the bang the sword emits.

Hitei does not shriek. Her eyes merely peer down at the side, as though to watch an insect being crushed. She watches as her servant's hands tighten against the ground, gloves soaking up the growing puddle of his blood as he whispers, no, chokes out words, that are perhaps, meant only for her.

Togame does not stop to listen. She strides forward, knowing that this is the one decent thing she can do; to let a love nursed in private be exposed to the air.

Shichika trails behind her. Prehaps he is listening. But if he is, she tries not to care.

It is easy, pathetically easy then, to be granted an audience with the court, to arrange favours and speeches that will place her at the head of the pyramid, in the main bastion of power for the rest of her life. Afterwards, she wanders back to her house, back to where the love of her life is waiting for her.

He bows low to the floor, a small heart-felt grin touching his lips.

'You did it, Togame...you achieved your dream!'

Carelessly, she tosses her short hair back over her shoulder.

'Of course. Was there ever any doubt?'

Shichika straightens out and meets her eyes, enough to allow a small moment of pleasurable silence to ring out across the room. They both smile at each other, soft and warm.

'Not to me,' Shichika says finally, his voice both proud and soft. 'I always knew you could do it. That you would do it.

There's electricity crackling between them, just as there always is, but Togame ignores it, just enough to press forward and gesture with her fingers.

'Come here. Closer.'

He smiles and lowers himself to the floor, her hands already tangling into his hair. She offers her lips, the kiss quickly blossoming into something deep and long, like always. The blush rushes into his cheeks and he feels Togame laugh against him, her tiny mouth vibrating with a frequency he's always tried so hard to catch. Togame has always been greater than him; her mind, her spirit, her ability to push forward and shove her hatred and disgust to one side so she can focus on her task. Things that could have so easily crippled him if she wasn't there, things a man who grew up to be a sword should never have realised.

He blinks and breaks away. The room is blurring; strange, he shouldn't be so tired.

'I...' he blinks and struggles to think. 'I...'

'Shh.' Togame soothes him, her hands against his face. 'Lie down. It's probably just excitement at my inevitable victory.' Her hands move round, forcing his head into her lap as his body slumps down beside her.

He blinks blearily and something splashes against his cheek. He frowns. It can't be raining inside, can it? He concentrates for a moment and then feels stupid.

'Togame...what's wrong?'

She's crying and he doesn't know why. His hand stretches up, possibly to wipe away a new tear forming at the corner of her eye, or maybe just to rest at her cheek, he doesn't know. But his fingers fall short by metres and end up clawing at the air. Togame reaches out and grabs at his hand, brings it up to her face.

'It's alright Shichika. You did everything I wanted and more. I'm so happy; happier than I've ever been.'

She speaks through the lie, tries to pretend that it's true; anything to keep him happy, to stop him from guessing at the truth. Don't make him see, she prays, don't let him see the despicable woman he's fallen in love with. Don't let him see that he should have chosen someone, anyone else.

'I never told you this, did I? But I fell for you too. Would you mind if I admit something like that? If I steal your catchphrase?'

He instantly smiles, so wide and beautiful that Togame holds back the rash, choked off cry that wells up inside her throat.

'I'll tear you to pieces later, for getting that wrong. That's not a catchphrase; that's simply the truth. It's something that became truer over time.'

Togame can let him have that; she strongly suspects that he loves her in a way that she could never hope to match. She suspects that if she'd asked, he would have killed himself right there and then in front of her, simply because that's what she wanted.

But oh, deep down, she doesn't really...

She feels the poison burn on her lips, feels it reach out to grab at her, stinging at the wrong side of her mouth, the side Shichika's on. All she has to do is lick, then swallow... but it's already too late. It's been too late for years. She's the daughter of a samurai, even though the only person who knows, the only one that still loves her is dying because of their tradition, their honour, their need to avenge no matter the cost. She can't let that one go, even if she has to murder her own heart to keep her family's honour intact.

As Shichika's breathing slows, as his hand becomes loose and cold within her own, Togame cries. And he never understands why.

Years later, as the shadowy figure at the Shogun's side, Togame looks down at the laws she has written, at all the names of the people she has denied, the ones she has sentenced to execution in the same way another did, once, back when her father raised his sword against the land.

If there's any karmic justice in this world, she knows that perhaps one of them will survive, will take up their sword against her and strike her down, even if, like her, it takes them twenty years of their life to achieve.

For a moment, she lets the thought lie there, undisturbed. Then, swiftly, she plucks it free, casting it aside like she did her name so long ago.

After all, she is Togame, not Yōsha. And Togame, as she has learned, has no real need for a heart.

Yes, in case it was confusing, Togame does indeed, bestow the same death on Hitei as she does upon Shichika. Well, she does point out how physically weak she is within the series, so I imagine that poison is the only way she could feasibly kill someone. At least, by her own hands that is.

This is basically the one AU I always wanted to write, but always lacked the imagination to finish until now. And now finally - finally! - it's done! I guess I just always wondered who Togame might turn into if she ever won her battle with Hitei.