CHAPTER 1
It had been a hell of a bumpy road from Ritsuka's utter lack of trust to our present relation, I reflected as I watched him bustling around in my flat.
I had to change too, since Ritsuka wouldn't give orders. It took me a long time to adjust, to find a new purpose, a new perspective. My Sacrifice refused to train me properly and I confess I sometimes resented him for it. Training from Ritsu and Seimei taking over, guilt would wash over me. And since Ritsuka wouldn't punish me either, I had found myself in this abysmal predicament more often than I cared to count. Years later, I knew my Sacrifice enough to manage our relation without orders or punishments. We lost a long time however but Ritsuka would argue I regained dignity. That might be true even if it's still rather naïve of him to believe a few years of fair treatment could erase the discipline and abnegation that had been beaten into me. But I've loved him unconditionally. I've always loved my masters.
I had loved Ritsu. I was a child then, an orphaned one moreover. I had clung to him, the only one who would take me in, shelter me, personally train me. He took an interest in me when all those that mattered had died. I loved him as only a child can, a complete and untainted love. I loved him despite the beatings, the harsh words, the discipline. I loved him despite the early loss of my ears because at 14, I had long since understood what my place was ever going to be. Once I had accepted I would have no dreams, no desires, no wish of my own, it was easier to give my whole self away. I would be his Fighter one day, what did it matter if he also possessed my body earlier rather than later? Ignorance is bliss. And then, he gave me to Seimei. Love turned into hate, one of the first real feeling that had burned my soul and heart since a very long time. I walked out of Gōra with a new, bright, shining scar. Hate.
I loved Seimei too. Seimei wanted me. He had asked for me. He named me. Called me. Trained me. I was his and the letters on my neck were a constant reminder that I had a rightful place on Earth. That I belonged. That I was never going to be abandoned again. I lived for Seimei. I would die for him at any given time. I had been honed as the perfect Fighter, never questioning, never disobeying, never wondering, nerve arguing. I knew my place and I held it. I was loyal to my Sacrifice. I was true to my training. But it still wasn't enough. Seimei was cruel. He liked to hurt for the pleasure of it, not only for the discipline. And yet, marks of ownership were my pride because I had never been under the illusion I could pretend to anything more. I loved Seimei. I feared Seimei. I hated Seimei. But the compulsion of the name was stronger. I loved Seimei. And he died. He died.
I didn't love Ritsuka. He cried and ran. He was young and fearful. He was too thin and he submitted to his mother. He wouldn't ask for help yet he would look at me with those big, teary eyes. But Seimei had ordered me to love him. Seimei couldn't be wrong. So I said 'I love you.' Again and again. Because if you repeat it often enough it makes it true. That's what training is all about. Hammering a behaviour, conditioning the mind. 'I love you. I love you. I love you.' Do I love you, Ritsuka?
I kissed him. Because we didn't share a name, how was I to bond with him? Ritsu had taught me physical contact was the quickest way. So I kissed him. He was soft and pliant. And blushing. And he allowed it. I could touch him. I loved him then, a little bit. I could hug him. I could pet his hair. I could hold his hand. I could tend to his wounds. I could hold him close when he was pale as death and clenching his teeth to endure the pain in his heart. I loved him then, a little more each time.
Sweet Ritsuka has always been strong-willed. Sweet Ritsuka was right : you can't love someone because you've been ordered to. I didn't know it then. I know now. Because the way I love Ritsuka has nothing to do with how I loved Ritsu and Seimei. Because the way I love Ritsuka has been a surprise. Because the way I love Ritsuka has happened on its own. Because I love Ritsuka for all that he is and all that he isn't. And as I sat watching him in my flat, love shined bright inside me. Sweet Ritsuka had grown. Sweet Ritsuka was mine, as Ritsu and Seimei had never been. Sweet Ritsuka was feisty and caring. And sweet Ritsuka was a very, very handsome man at the present time.
The small, scared child was all gone. Ritsuka was no longer picked upon or pitied. He was noticed. He was not dominating, he abhorred the very idea of it. But he was charismatic and wore a look of confidence that gave him credentials. When he left a room, the air changed. I thought at first that was due to our bond. But other people felt his absence without seeing him leave. The power of Loveless tended to seep through into his everyday life. Other units were wary of him now. His mature voice reflected it perfectly: a dark, velvety, authoritative rumble, sometimes accompanied by a barely perceptible but very disdainful sneer on his left upper lip.
Ritsuka was the carbon copy of his brother, save for the eyes. Where Seimei's were such a dark purple they seemed black, Ritsuka's irises were a bright plum. Where Seimei's were cold, Ritsuka's were warm and sparkling. They were open pits into their souls for who cared to properly look. I did.
Ritsuka was tall now, about head shorter than me. At seventeen, only his cat-ears betrayed the fact he wasn't an adult, when in truth, he was more mature and grown-up than many earless I've had the displeasure to meet.
Physical training had strengthened his body and built muscles where his child-self had been all skin and bones. The hollowness of his face had disappeared when his appetite accorded itself with his growth spurs. I like to think he also enjoyed my cooking. Bandages faded away as he got stronger and easily deflected or endured his mother's outbursts.
Yes, all in all, my Sacrifice has become a very handsome man.