Yeah, I know it's been a bit since I published a story, but it's been a bit since I had a good one. ;) It's also been a bit since someone reviewed any of my stories... hinthint

As usual, I do not own Soul Calibur characters (Mitsurugi, Taki, anyone else you recognize), but I DO own Miyuki and Sayuri. Nicholas and Regulus were used with permission from their creators.

This is just a sampling of the story that's taking me forEVER to write. x.x This is just a fight scene, but, believe or not, there IS more to the story... :) cackles maniacally I actually have somewhat of a storyline--yay!! The background for this is... well, dammit, I can't tell you without spoiling the story. :'(

Hopefully, this story is enjoyed as much as General's Daughter--which MAY have the title changed... On with the goriness!!!

Tears of Blood

"You BASTARD!!" Upon seeing Mitsurugi, the tiny female lauched herself towards him, sword drawn.

Out of pure shock of seeing Miyuki alive, the ronin froze, mouth open. It nearly cost him his life; at the last possible second, Mitsurugi ducked. He did not draw his katana.

"Miyuki--WAIT!" Mitsurugi heard another voice--that of a boy--but could not find time to spare to look for the owner. He had more pressing matters to attend to.

"You PIG!" Miyuki brought her katana across where Mitsurugi's chest would have been if he had not moved to his right. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed the woman's right wrist--her sword wrist--and effectively halted her attack.

"Miyuki, it's ME!" In response to the ronin's statement, Miyuki flew into a rage. She brought her non-sword hand in an open-handed slap--Mitsurugi caught that one as well. "STOP, Miyuki!"

Surprisingly, she did so--at least physically. She stared back into Mitsurugi's dark brown eyes. "You son of a bitch..."

"What happened to you...?" Mitsurugi asked gently, more to himself. He looked into her coal black eyes, which were blazing with unnatural anger. She began to struggle to free herself.

"Don't lie to me--you know DAMN WELL what happened!! You drugged me and took advantage of me!"

Taken aback, Mitsurugi momentarily relaxed his grip on Miyuki's wrists. Before the enraged woman could take advantage of his distraction, he tightened his grip again. "...is that what you think I did...? You should know me better--oof!" Miyuki's response was to knee him in the stomach. Momentarily stunned, Mitsurugi stumbled, but did not release his grip.

A shadowy figure appeared at the side of the skirmish. "Miss Miyuki, he wouldn't do anything like that..." Mitsurugi recognized the boy's voice.

"How would you know?!" was the automatic response from both combatants.

In a silent response, the boy placed a hand on each warrior's forehead and concentrated. Mitsurugi felt himself go dizzy; he fought to remain conscious. Miyuki, on the other hand, shrieked and went limp, dropping her sword. Mitsurugi caught her as she fell. "What do you DO?!" He lowered Miyuki to the snow.

"A simple transfer of thoughts." The boy seemed to have aged half a century in half a second. "It was too much for her brain to process; no doubt it caused great pain." He knelt by Mitsurugi, who was feeling Miyuki's forehead. "She should be alright."

As if on cue, Miyuki stirred in Mitsurugi's arms. "Wha-what happened?" Mitsurugi helped her sit up as she held her head in her hands.

"What do you remember?" the boy asked quietly. "What happened two weeks ago?"

Almost instantly, Miyuki's eye's flashed. "Regulus..." she said in a barely audible growl.

Mitsurugi glanced at the boy, who remained motionless, looking at Miyuki. "What did he do to you?" the ronin asked in a low voice.

Faced with memory regained, satus lost and everything in between, Miyuki broke down. Mitsurugi held her close to him. "H-he brought me back... He wanted me to help him find you you--I said no..." Miyuki sobbed quietly; she was remarkably calm, despite the crying. "Then he stabbed me and erased every memory I've had since before we left Japan. I refused to help him--"

"But you DID!" Another female voice, this one enraged, roared. Mitsurugi turned to his left and half rose to confront the owner of the voice. The presumed owner burst out of the bushes about 15 meters away.

"Who the hell is that?!" the ronin shouted out of surprise, not expecting or getting an answer. In the next few seconds, Mitsurugi faced a difficult choice: draw his sword and endanger the woman he loved or push her aside and face his own death. It was a hard choice--but not for a samurai. Mitsurugi was not a samurai, but he still held samurai values. Miyuki was moving towards the woman as it was, but the woman, they both knew, had her rage set on Mitsurugi. He shoved Miyuki away to his right: "Get back!"

The boy caught her as she slipped on the ice and pulled her back while she was still disoriented enough to not protest. "We have to leave!"

Miyuki shook his arm off; Nicholas just didn't know about being a warrior... "I'm not leaving him!"

The sound of metal clashing against metal put a halt to the arguement and both looked up.

Mitsurugi had managed to draw his katana but it was too little, too late. The woman the rushed him swatted aside the halphazard blow with a wide backhanded sweep. It knocked Mitsurugi's blow aside far enough and long enough for her to bring her own katana back around and sink it deep into Mitsurugi's left chest.

"No!" Miyuki shouted. She started forward, but Nicholas restrained her with surprising strength. "Let me GO!!" She watched from Nicholas as the ronin let out a silent, pained gasp. He had been forced down to his knees by the velocity and strength of the blow and was struggling to lift his right arm to strike at the warrior who had impaled him. The tip exited out of his back, about mid-chest and continued until the point of the blade nearly touched the ground. Such was the blade impaled that Sayuri could--and did--remove one hand and not worry about any repercussions from Mitsurugi.

The woman smiled sadistically. "You remember me now, don't you." It was a statement more than a question.

"...S-sayuri...?!" Mitsurugi nodded dumbly, taking in the oblong face, narrow and cold black eyes and strong mouth. "...you... alive...?" The air continued to leak from his punctured lung, as did blood. The blood colored the snow beneath him a bright red.

"And shortly you won't be." Sayuri laughed triumphantly. She pushed down harded on her blade then twisted it sharply, elliciting a soft gasp from Mitsurugi. "And now I'm glad you refused me...I found someone better."

Miyuki watched the scene from Nicholas' arms in sheer horror. The face had been shock enough, but the true astonishment came from the woman's body. Instead of the traditional samurai armor worn by honorable men and women, Sayuri wore the European style of armor. It was full body, a dark indigo with small spikes at the shoulders that fit her form perfectly.

With fading eyesight, Mitsurugi took in the armor; it reminded him of someone else... "...Regulus...?" he asked with a cough, losing air for every breath.

"Yes, yes it is..." Sayuri replied with an even more sadistic smile. "He taught me something more valuable than you ever could."

Mitsurugi blinked, blood running from his mouth and down his cheek. Miyuki... he thought while he felt his breath slowing. It was harder to breathe...

Miyuki cried out. Nicholas released her and both started moving towards the duo. Mitsurugi tried again to lift his hand, this time to halt Miyuki, but could not do anything more than gasp hoarsely in agony.

"He taught me how to hate." With that, Sayuri ripped the katana from Mitsurugi's chest, sending blood spraying over her armor.

"NO!!" Miyuki picked up speed and scooped up her katana as she went.

Sayuri turned as 115 pounds of anger, fury and heartache bowled towards her. As Miyuki rushed her, Sayuri brought up her own to block. Miyuki feinted to fall for the block and Sayuri flinched, overcorrecting for the mistake. She parried Miyuki's strike and lashed out with a foot. The foot connected with Miyuki's chest and knocked her back some distance. Sayuri happened to be standing on a patch of ice and slipped, falling indignantly on her backside. Sayuri's kick knocked Miyuki back; the samurai hit her head on a rock. She lay there for a moment, stunned.

Nicholas took advantage of the distraction on both parties to rush to Sayuri and grab her temples. He concentrated, going around the warrior's brain to find that little subconscious niche where things that were known were hidden away. He found it and went after it like a starving dog does to a pile of meat. He pried open the spot, finding a treasure trove of items to use. He grabbed the best one and forced it out. (He lied to you you're a pawn you'll gain no honor from this!)

Sayuri resisted, but the tendrils continued. She shrieked and struggled to put up a barrier, a wall, a fence, ANYTHING to keep the probing tendrils out. (He tricked you you led him right to us we can't fight him--!) The voices became a series of pictures: Sayuri fighting Mitsurugi the first time, something evil in the distance watchin her through a mind lens, Regulus plotting to use her wrath against her and the ultimate, torturous death that she would face at his hands. "Get OUT!!" She finally managed to wrench herself away physically before her mind became truly affected and collapsed face-first into the snow. Nicholas decided that it would be a good idea to get out of her sword range before she came to... He looked around to find Miyuki.

Miyuki, meanwhile, regained her senses. Seeing Sayuri occupied, albeit temporarily, Miyuki dashed to Mitsurugi's side. The big ronin was barely breathing and bleeding from the mouth. "Heishiro--?!" His eyes were closed and Miyuki feared the worst... She grabbed his right hand and placed it over the ragged gash in his chest. "Please... don't leave yet... I just found you again..."

When she spoke, Mitsurugi's eyes slowly opened. He tried to say something, but succeeded in only coughing up froathy blood. Miyuki put a finger on his mouth and began to tear at the extra cloth from her haori to make bandages. "Please... don't speak..." She looked away to keep tearing, but a weak hand on her cheek stopped her. The hand turned her head to face Mitsurugi. He again opened his mouth to speak, but again, only coughed up froathy blood. "I'm so sorry...this is all my fault..."

...no... Mitsurugi mouthed. He lifted his right hand from his wound and placed a bloody thumb on Miyuki's cheek to rub away a tear, then held her face in his gentle hand. The thumb left a diluted, bloody streak through the tears on Miyuki's face.

The hand fell while Miyuki looked away to get cloth to bind his wounds.

Miyuki looked back at Mitsurugi's face; his eyes were half open and he had a peaceful look on his face.

"Miyuki..."

"Heishiro... no..." Miyuki felt Mitsurugi's throat for a pulse; it beat once, then gave out to nothingness. A sigh escaped his mouth, along with a slow tickle of blood, then nothing.

"Miyuki...!"

He still called her name, even though his lips were not moving and his chest was not rising and falling...

"MIYUKI!!"

Miyuki snapped out of her stupor in time to see Sayuri rise to her feet, shaking her head a bit. The gentle woman felt a pure unadulterated rage take over her mind and soul. She stood slowly, her katana in one hand, realizing that it was not Mitsurugi, but Nicholas trying to get her attention.

Matsudaira Miyuki strode to a position about 15 feet away from Mishima Sayuri, katana held so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "You took him from me..."

Sayuri stared Miyuki down. "You let him go!" she hissed. She assumed her stance, right foot out, blade towards Miyuki.

"I'll kill you to avenge him!" Miyuki began to circle; both women stared each other down, sizing each other up. Sayuri had several advantages over her, she noted; she was taller, she had longer reach and she appeared to be a born fighter. This was not a fight she could win... unless... "What did he show you, busu?! Did he show you the truth?! Did he show you that you were lower than the leavings of a dog?!"

"Kusokurae!!!" Spurred by the insult, Sayuri charged. Miyuki dodged the first strike, a hasty slash, and parried the followup. Sayuri flinched and Miyuki took advantage of the distraction to lash out weakly. A flash and a hoarse cry of pain were her only indications of a scoring hit. Miyuki felt something warm splatter on her left forearm. Her attack carried her out of Sayuri's range and Miyuki looked back to see the other woman stagger. She held her left side with her left hand and turned. Miyuki saw blood trickle out... Sayuri set herself up for another charge

"Don't think I won't kill you, bitch!" She growled and charged again. Steel met steel in a bright flash with sparks flying everywhere. The clouds abouve began to weep snow; it grew heavier over the span of time...

Nicholas knelt by Mitsurugi and put a delicate hand on the ronin's forehead; it was cooling. "I'm sorry, old man... I tried to help you." He closed the eyes that were lifelessly watching the battle and put his extra cloak over the body.

Warriors matched blow for blow in a macabre yet beautiful dance while sparks illuminated their faces. While Sayuri may have been a better warrior, her heavier armor slowed her down. Miyuki wore no armor, but she was faster and lighter. No katana made it past the other's sword, however and no hit was made for several minutes. The sun began to set and Nicholas, who was no more use in a sword fight than a tame kitten was to a tiger trainer, sat back and made a fire. He prepared a psychic defence in the case that Sayuri won and decided to finish him. There was a constant feeling in the back of his head that he was being watched, and Nicholas, gifted in the mind as he was, knew that it was no mere intuition and someone WAS watching him...

Something evil and it was getting closer... Nicholas took out the dagger at his belt. It was reserved for eating, but it frightened off robbers. This something that was getting even closer was more than a match for the young psion, but he had to try and defend himself, as well as Miyuki, as engaged as she was.

At the same time a sharp, piercing pain formed just below his breast, Nicholas felt breathing on his ear. Something trickled down his chin and absently, he brushed at it; his hand came away with a trickle of blood on it. He looked down to find the point of a rapier sticking out from his chest. "...eh...?" The evil sense went to its height now...

"So sorry, my boy... but I can't risk either of them knowing that I am here...You understand, dear boy..." A male voice said gentlemanly. The boy sank to his knees, supported by the man behind him. "Rather morbidly beautiful, isn't it?" the man asked gently, referring to the battle.

"Who...?" Nicholas' question was cut off by a cough.

"You don't need to know that..." The rapier was ripped from Nicholas' back and he slumped forward into the snow, never seeing the face of his assailant.