Title: Predilection
Fandom: Rurouni Kenshin
Characters: Yumi/ Shishio/ Soujirou/ Kamatari
Word Count: 6809
Rating: M (for suggestive scenes)
Summary: She was his mistress, but in her eyes, he was more than her master.
Author's Notes: Yumi's thought at the last days as she realized they can't win. And the softer side of everyone else. OOC for such an impulsive character.

x.x.x.X.X.x.x.x.x

Day 5

"Yumi-san", I heard Soujirou's voice behind my door, "Shishio-sama wants to see you"

I remember the day he told me of his foolish plan, the day when I knew I was only counting down seconds of what was left for us.

Three days ago, I sat beside Shishio-sama as I poured his usual green tea.

Warm. Just the way he likes it.

"Ne, Shishio-sama", I couldn't help the overflowing fear inside my heart to ask him, I wanted to trust him, to be confident and believe in him, yet my supposedly devoted heart seems to disobey me, "Will this really work?"

I looked down once I realized my question, I was ashamed, and I should've never questioned him.

I thought that he would be angry at me, instead, I saw a smile on his lips, for once, a smile, not the usual I-am-evil smirk he always had.

His smile seemed like a sad smile.

"You do not believe in me?" he asked, I felt his eyes gazing at me, but I didn't dare to lift my head, "Yumi, look at me, please, tell me, do you believe in me?"

'No, you are endangering yourself, I don't want you to get hurt', I wanted to say it to him, my conscience was begging me to save him, one way or the other, but my pride, my love for him resists.

I had to make him feel better, he was, the only one that ever had faith in me, the only one who didn't treat me like dirt, and being under his protection, being his mistress, people never laid a hand on her again.

"Of course I do" I said, my raspy voice no more than a sad, weak little whisper.

My words flowed, but the guilt was stuck in my throat, burning my mind carelessly as I felt tears brimmed on my eyes. How could I lie to him?

'You lied to him because you love him, you don't want him to get hurt', my mind restlessly tried to ignore the guilt.

I felt Shishio-sama's fingers under my chin as he lifted up my face to meet him, but I kept my eyes down.

"Look at me Yumi", his voice was soft, softer than his usual harsh tone.

My eyes met him hesitantly; my voice couldn't find any way to come out, to resist, taking back my question.

"Now tell me, do you believe in me?" he said, his gaze once again boring into my eyes.

I wanted to turn away, I wanted to say no, but for his sake, I smiled, nodding.

"Good", he said and turned away. My mask of smile faded and my charade has ended in a second.

I trusted in him, devoted myself to him. In my eyes, he was the best. But I still couldn't help knowing our plan will not work.

Shishio-sama's plans can't work, but I had to believe in him. He brought me my miracle, so I should devote myself to his.

We didn't have much time, so I will spend the most I have with him. I knew we were nearing the end, I wish the bad feeling in my heart would be replaced by the confidence he had planted in me.

But they faded away, as I saw him rise; they faded, only leaving the small bits to compromise my beliefs in front of him. I believed in him.

Soujirou knocked again on my door, reminding me of Shishio-sama's request.

"Hai, I'll be right there", I did not ask why, I shouldn't bother. I knew that these moments, these were to be the last we have together.

It's been three days since I found out, and four days, to the end. I know, that I can't just say I will lose him, it's not like we have no chance of succeeding. So I convinced myself that everything will be fine, even if I knew I was wrong.

Once again, I knocked at Shishio-sama's door.

"You called for me, Shishio-sama?" I asked as I knelt down, facing him, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking out the window.

He did not answer me; he only stared at the sunrise, as if it was his last. I kept my silence in obedience, I was lower than him, and I am merely his mistress. Who am I to question him?

I asked questions that degraded me in my head. I knew, this man, although wounded, bandaged, rotting, was the one I love. That I would do anything to keep him content, to make him feel confident, to make him happy with me, I stooped low enough for people to think I'm a slut.

Maybe I am all because I loved him. What do I even mean to him, I'll never know. A mere woman, who he saved?

I wanted him to love me more than anything, I wanted him to be mine, I wanted him to be a normal lover, who would be there, who would love me. I never thought of him as the evil killer, I knew he was, but yet I supported him. Why?

Because I loved him, and if making him happy means lying, if it meant I had to sacrifice my own heart, I would do it. I looked at him, looking back down when his gaze turned suddenly at me.

"The sunrise is beautiful, isn't it?" I heard his voice, clear, calm and…

Soft.

I merely nodded, his eyes, for once had that warmth he rarely showed. I worried about him, he seemed, worried for once, his eyes are unusually warm.

Since when did he have kindness radiating from him? I had hoped fiercely in my heart that he cancelled his plans, and that we will stay forever together, but I knew this was not a fairytale.

"I am not worried Yumi", he sighed.

I only smiled in reply, I felt the need to tell him to stop all this, that I wanted a peaceful life, that I wanted to be with him. But who am I to tell him what to do?

I am only his mistress. Nothing else.

"I believe it is not a misdeed to worry", I said, as sincere as could.

He only smiled, "I have nothing to worry about, and it is a risk I must take, Yumi"

I wanted to cry. He could've just been a burned man and he could've just loved me. Am I just a possession? A woman who loved him, I was more than willing to die for him. I wanted to be with him forever, and here he is, telling me, what I'm thinking is not rational. He's talking as if nothing will happen, that he will merely come out in 20 seconds without an injury.

I knew better than that. He knew the risks he was taking.

"No it's not, why?", I tried to sound calm, but my voice betrayed me, "Why? We could've lived peacefully"

"Why are all men obsessed with power, are we only possessions? Are we women only things that get in your way? Am I only a mere possession, another fool you tricked into being your servant?" my voice raised its tone with every word, I spoke quickly, rushing into all of my spilled questions.

"Am I only a being at your disposal? Is my care for you just a mere act you expect from others? Why can't you just stop this insanity, do you know how much I worry about your well being?"

Then it struck me, I was being selfish. Here the man I love was trying to pursuit his dreams, gambling his life away in a game of revenge, power and murder.

My tears started falling uncontrollably as I realized I was being unreasonable. My questions popped inside my head, and I let them spill. I had disappointed him.

"Forgive me, Shishio-sama, I was being unreasonable", I bowed.

I couldn't help but tremble, I was betraying my heart. I believed in him this far, I knew better than to doubt him, I had lived at his disposal, and I am now questioning him, ordering him. My heart felt heavy, and I realized my mistake may cost me much.

I saw him smile.

'Is he going to kill me?" , I felt fear taking over me, controlling me.

A minute passed, and I was still bowing in front of him, unable to move. No. Afraid to move.

I felt his bandaged fingers going through my hair, releasing it out of the bun.

Once. Twice. I felt him stroke my hair gently.

"It's not a misdeed to worry", he said, his voice raspy, but soft.

He had turned my words back at me.

"Now lift your face up so I can see your beautiful smile again", his voice tugged my heart, and I obeyed.

I was his mistress, his servant of love. Nothing else.

His hands cupped my cheeks, holding them delicately.

I felt his lips against mine the moment his eyes met mine. I felt his fingers dragged away from my jaw line, one of them now holding my waist and the other resting on top of my nape.

"Shishio-sama", I tried to make out the words I wanted to say once we parted.

'Apologize to him again', I screamed at myself mentally.

"For-", my words were interrupted once more as he brought himself down to her, lips locking together. I let myself relax as I reached up my hands and slung it over his back. He embraced me tightly as I felt his hands running up and down my back.

I didn't say a word.

He pulled back, but he didn't let go, his eyes stared intently at mine. I looked away, I was ashamed, and I was a possession, a slave of his pleasure. I was wanted for my flesh, I was the woman that had to look in the mirror and assured that I looked well enough to please him, I was the one brought to shame when I obeyed every thought on his mind.

I was simply his slave, driven by the feeling of owing him my life for saving mine.

"Do you believe in me?", he questioned me once more.

I nodded dumbly, conforming to his orders.

I abide by his rules, I shall comply with his orders, I am a possession, and I am his mistress.

"Have you enjoyed these years with me?"

I could reply nothing to it, for nothing could've expressed my anguish of losing him soon, I can only pull him down in purpose of his lips meeting mine.

He said no other words. How I longed for him all these times, he was always busy, and he no longer spared time for me. All I could do was strut around worriedly, knowing he doesn't really give a damn for all of us.

He was my cold hearted beast of a master, yet his words will dawn upon me as if I was in trance, he was still the man I fell in love with.

I felt numbness taking over me, the longing, all these longing for him. The longing for a man who longs more for power than for me.

To him, there was no love, the world was about power, pleasure, is having the power. And so I shall give him pleasure, his power over me reigns with the biased feeling of betrayal. I was a slave, driven by love to care for him.

The tip of his tongue met my lips, slowly drifting over it as I allowed him to enter, but go no further. Yet I find myself pressed against the walls of this room, hidden and afraid.

"Are you afraid of me?", I heard his voice, ragged between his breaths.

I couldn't answer. I feared him, I did, he was a man of power and cruelty, but yet with him I felt safe, protected, and I never really feared him. I had always been by his side. Had I really thought of myself too high?

I did not answer. Shishio-sama didn't seem to care too much. I held on to him, as if my life depended on my fingers, that now allowed contact with his neck.

Nothing, I felt this emptiness take over me.

I was a refuge, a sanctuary, I was nothing more than a slave to pour all his misery, to turn it into pleasure where he can't worry.

His lips moved down as he trailed his mark down to my collarbone, where he stayed for a while. His fingers trailed down to my obi and released it. I felt myself being taken by will, I felt myself for once again being able to comply with him.

He looked at me, pulling his lips away from my flesh. His fingers draping down on the rims of my untied kimono, pulling it down as he trailed his lips behind it.

I felt him push me against the wall again as he pressed his lips to my ears. I felt his lips parting, warm air spreading on my ear hole. I had expected him to say something, but he pulled back instead.

I was tainted, impure, but I had my reasons.

I looked into his eyes, my eyes filled with questions. Nothing. He said nothing.

I felt the kimono wrenched away from me, revealing me, but I succumbed to him. I will follow him to the depths of hell, that I know. I will please him as he wishes me to, but what am I to him?

I wanted to say something, parting this silence. But I didn't want to ruin the moment, I wanted him beside me, I loved him. I wanted him with me, I wanted to feel his coldness spread through me, pretending things were not going to end with bad endings.

So I didn't speak, I let him control me, like a puppet's dance to its master. I let him take over me, I gave myself to him without words, and I was sold to him the moment he saved me.

I said nothing as he roamed through me, I will keep my thoughts to myself this time. Usually, I would have been joining him for a chat, or a walk, but this time, I couldn't talk, talking wasn't forbidden, but I didn't want to.

Neither did my words feel the need to come out right now, breaking out contact as we would get into another pointless discussion.

'Pointless', I knew I was nothing, nothing but dirt, but he took me as I was, and I still lie at his disposal, 'I will not argue'

I knew I wanted to please this man with all I could give him, but what could I offer? Men wanted power, and I could not argue, for I know words would not get through to his stubborn determination.

Power. He wanted power. And so I shall give power, power over myself.

He had kept my silence, I had kept it in order to keep him content. I wanted him to forget everything; I wanted him to feel pleasure, happiness, not the pain he had carved in his heart, so I kept my silence, for our words were wasted in chatters.

Silence was another option than chatters, and for us, many times it was better that way.

We both get what we want, I gave him his pleasure, his will for power, I gave him the chance to forget misery, and I get the warmth, the treatment as if I was really loved, so silence it was for today, like many other days. Yet our silences were taken in many forms.

For me, one of them was actions, and the will to obey.

Day 4

I felt a prickle of pain on my foot as I snapped out of my dreams.

I had woken up late today, I felt the sun's stinging rays of light coming down to hit my eyes once I opened it.

'Had I left the window open again?', I asked myself as my eyes shut tight, trying to squeeze the colors away in darkness.

'No', I covered my eyes as I sat up, 'I had slept on the terrace'

I remembered myself drinking tea last night, alone, looking at the stars as I remembered the peaceful moments when my heart wasn't washed with this worry.

The tea lay cold and spilled beside me, seeping through the fabric of my kimono. The glass broken, a piece of it stuck to my left toe. I could see the small stains of blood on the white socks I wore.

I flinched as my fingernails acted to remove the piece from me.

"Yumi-san, are you there?" I heard someone's voice knocking on the door. 'A woman's voice?'

"Come in", I said as I abruptly fixed my position and sat on the edge of the terrace, my feet were dangling, barely inches from the ground.

I heard the figure's footsteps coming closer as she sat beside me, putting her arms over my shoulder. I turned my head to get a look on my 'guest'.

"Kamatari-san!" I looked at her smiling face, "What are you doing here?"

Kamatari-san had always been self-proclaiming herself as the one who will get Shishio-sama's heart, and she'd always act as if we both were part of a competition. What is a competition between us? I was the one who stayed beside him at all times, yet she would tell me how much her, and the rest of the Juppon Gatana risked their necks to save him, fighting beside him. Now, that line had caught my attention, and that would always be the start of our constant bickering.

I saw her smiling that mischievous and childish smile of her.

I swore that my heart burns for hatred to Kamatari, no, with jealousy. She had spent time with Shishio-sama, and constantly she reminded me that I was useless to him, that I couldn't even risk my neck for him. My eyes still drowns in sympathy as I saw her, she was there, always acting as innocent as a child, yet she was dripping with blood, like any other member that sought guidance and experience under Shishio-sama.

I looked away from her, my eyes turning to the garden, it seemed so peaceful, like it always was. But in days, it might be in ruins within days, burnt to the ground, spoiling the calm scene in the middle of this intense battleground, no, it's a killing ground.

We have always lived here with Shishio-sama's philosophy, and it had brought us discipline, and fear. We lived in a brusque sense of organized, far too in command, he had gotten the power he wanted, and he lived in it.

That's how people kept their powers, he would tell me, trust no one, kill without hesitation, and he said love and care will kill you one day. He always told me it was their faults they were far too weak to win, yet it seemed foolish, like a childhood game and obsession.

"The weak die, the strong survives", I mumbled, not realizing I voiced my thoughts until Kamatari-san nudged me.

"Ne, Yumi-san, first you were like in a trance, you were so quiet it was scary, then you started talking to yourself, are you okay?", she said, grinning.

I only smiled back.

"It's Shishio-sama isn't it?" she looked at me, her grin fading into a sad smile, "You're not the only one who's worried about him"

"Look at Soujirou-kun, he might be smiling, and undoubting in his master's powers, I mean look at them fight, but, you could tell he's worried", she spoke fast and sure, in a comical expression as if she was mocking to be my mother.

"As cold as he is, Shishio-sama is still the only father figure in Soujirou's life", she let out a little laughter, "I understand how you feel, you love him"

"So do you", I mentioned, sharing with her a smile, letting her know she had lifted my mood up a little. But my heart still bleeds with the empathy I had growing, I knew this would happen someday, yet days passed without a word of worry, sometimes, if it has something to do with the people you care about, it just comes way too soon.

"Shishio-sama called us here to review the plan, he seems so ambitious for this exceptional mission, I can see why you're worried", she continued, trying to make me feel less worried, "but you know how powerful our lovely Shishio-sama is, he'll be fine"

She gave me a thumb up and a huge grin. A façade to keep us both on our foot, to keep us both from worrying too much, but this feeling just won't go away, like it was glued, sealed tight to suffocate us.

"Hai, we should", I felt the words stuck in my throat, hesitating to say what I had to say, my heart was stopping me, "believe him"

I sighed in defeat.

"Iie, Yumi-san, don't force the words out, we all know, it's a risky thing, and we all may not survive this one, but let him get a taste of his own doing, let him get a taste of the power he wanted", she smiled, "let him try to reach his dreams"

"I don't understand, he's a powerful man", I retaliated at her, "he's a powerful man enough, why does this battousai means so much to him? He has power, why seek more?"

"Because", she stopped, her eyes closing, her cheerful happy-go-lucky expression had completely faded by now, showing a sad regretful mask, "he wanted to see what he can do, he wants to reach his limit, because he knows, when this man is defeated, he'll be the strongest, and the thrill, the joyous feeling when you triumph over a challenging enemy, can't even be compared to the years of training when your hunger is for power and victory"

"But the risks, it's dangerous risking your life for a mere victory", my voice pleaded, "besides, why swords, it is no match to the technology"

"He tries so hard to win", Kamatari-san's voice glowered a little, "The guns are merely technology, but the swords, the blades clashing as you feel you adrenaline rushing, knowing any moment can be you death, or victory, you're risking your life, and you feel the triumph, the glory more when you try to reach it"

"It's different, a triumph by effort, he wants to reach it honorably, even if he is to be called a murderer, he will do so honorably, to him, the battle in an art we all must master to survive, and pulling the trigger with the little force from the tip of your finger, then finding your enemy helplessly dead in 2 seconds straight, isn't the kind of victory he wants"

"He said it himself", I frowned, "the weak dies, the strong survives"

"You do not understand, to Shishio-sama, if someone is to be called his equal opponent, he will risk his life to win over this man", she looked down, "he wants power, and defeating someone effortlessly doesn't make him feel the power he's defeated, he feels strong and proud, yes, but no stronger nor prouder than before"

"And this battousai can help him to do so? To find the power he wants by defeating him? What is the point of this madness? They both get hurt, and one of them dies, the bloodlust for battle is just stu-"

Kamatari-san cut into my sentence, "You wouldn't understand, power isn't easily achieved, and when it is, it is no use of defeating someone when you feel no pride defeating them"

"What is pride then? What is power? Why do all of you people want power?"

Kamatari-san sat in silence, her mind probably doused with her own questions.

Once again I felt selfish, I knew he was just trying to reach his dreams, but yet all this anxiety within me fled with the desire to stop him, so he would be there for me, so he would stop thinking about power and love me instead.

I was dirt in his face compared to power. I was nothing but a pawn, he does not care, and my concern kills me to know that. I was stubborn enough to keep him heeded, to let his well being be bothersome to me.

"He was a man robbed of his pride", Kamatari-san started, "Yumi-san, he was burnt, his title, his power was taken away, he wanted revenge, to be once more powerful, he wants to be acknowledged"

"But-"

"It's not like he doesn't care about any of us", Kamatari-san finished, and she stood up, putting up that smile again.

It was fake, I could tell.

"I must take my leave", she said, bowing down as she turned and headed for the door.

Isn't he acknowledged enough as our leader, hasn't he killed enough?

I sighed.

"Yes, I will see you another time then", I closed the door.

I sat there, pondering all she had said. It was another day, and I will wait for my summoning for today, just to see him.

My existence was made only to spend time with him.

Day 3

"Ohayo", I smiled as Soujirou sat down beside me.

"Yumi-san, Kamatari-san said you've been worried lately, is there anything I can do?"

No, I wanted to say. Nothing that you can do. You can't return him tome, you can't change him back.

You can't change his mind.

I smiled again, and shook my head. The room returned to its empty silence, greeting the whispers of the breeze lingering through the bamboo weaving of the doors.

"Shishio-sama," he paused, looking at me as if to make sure that it was him I was worried about. I looked down, as if concentrating on the texture of the glass.

He drew a breath, and obliged himself to continue. "Shishio-sama", he repeated, "has been like a father figure to me"

I looked at him with surprise, I knew that Soujirou looked up to Shishio-sama, but to think of such a cold-hearted man as a father figure, I was rather shocked. He had taught Soujirou many things after he took the child under his wings, but never of love.

Soujirou merely smiled wryly at my reaction, as if he was expecting it.

"I know that he is not much of a model father, but he is the only person I truly respect"

He continued, "He has never cared for me, and I am just a pawn for him, but I do care for him"

"He has made me strong"

Strength. Power. All that again. Truly I shall never understand the world of men, for I need not power nor strength.

Shishio-sama has turned the boy into the very likeness of him, yet this boy, with his innocent look, seemed to hold much more agony in being such a monster.

"Strength isn't everything, Soujirou", I said, looking up at him for a moment.

"No, it isn't when you have many to look forward to", he said, "but I have nothing else but battle to live for, I am an exile, I have no family, I am a murderer"

"What do I have to look forward to in life? I have nothing, Yumi-san, nothing"

He seemed agitated by the conversation, "I murdered my family, they were unkind to me, but they still were my family. Then I became already a murderer and so society casted me away, I was nothing, I was to be given nothing"

"Shishio-sama gave me battle, so that I can use my strength, so I can have something in life", he turned away, "it's not much, but it's all I have, so I must win these battles to be able to do another"

I looked at the child, who would've ever thought, without knowing his story, that at such a young age, this boy was a notorious murderer. An assassin.

He always smiled, and the smile never ceased to fade, not even during battle. His strength lay not only in his hand, but in his soul.

"You've a strong heart, you can face this horrid world", I said.

"Yumi-san is not the only one worried, Shishio-san is everything I have"

"He is what I live for"

I embraced the small figure.

He was the same like me, another of Shishio-sama's pawns who cared for him. Too much.

Yet he was so young, too young to be exposed to the blood thirst and the lust for power. Soujirou was fed the greed for battle since the day Shishio-sama took him in, and he has grown to be a fine boy, a great fighter in battle.

His heart, as like mine, was fragile. We looked up to Shishio-sama like a God, and if this God was to be taken away from us, we'd be lost.

We'd be lost.

"I just want to be with him", I wept "I know it's selfish, but I just want to be with him"

He too is all I have.

"It is never selfish to love somebody", the child replied, closing his eyes again, "Yumi-san too, has been like a mother to me"

I smiled. Yes, the child has always been like my own, at least I have tried to care for him as if he was my own. By doing that, I felt like I was a warmer human being, like I was a normal woman, living peacefully and caring for her growing boy.

The child had always seemed to bring home trouble, the blood that stained his clothes when he came home from an errand always made me worried. He was, after all, just a child underneath the blood thirst.

A child with a sword.

"Thank you, Soujirou, thank you"

He let me weep in his arms, his fragile little hands patting me on the back. I felt like a fool, crying to a child. But I felt secure.

He was like my own child, and I his mother. These blood stained hands had never lost their warmth, not yet.

Seta Soujirou, I shall hope for him to grow up out of the greed for power. I shall hope for him to leave this agony and live in peace.

My child. If I hadn't been too late, I'd have saved you from blood thirst, I'd have exiled you from this life of sin.

Perhaps it is not yet too late, perhaps he will survive this battle.

Perhaps then, when we come face to face, I can kneel and beg to the battousai to take him in. To raise the child as his own, to raise the child with his ideals. To cleanse his sinful hands.

I would abandon my pride if only he could live in peace.

I took his hands in mine.

"Soujirou, if you are to survive this coming battle, promise me that you will cease to kill and will lead a peaceful life", I asked him gently.

He merely smiled and pried his hands away. "If I am to survive, and Shishio-sama to die, then I will have lost all reason and will to live"

"But you must", I insisted, "you are only seventeen, you still have a long way ahead"

Soujirou opened his mouth to reply, but I sent him to silence.

"It is not too late to become something else, to abandon battle"

I continued, "Do it for me, for your mother, for I am sure to perish within Shishio-sama's death"

He stared at me with that soft, gentle sadness swaying in his eyes, and nodded.

"I shall try and do as you've asked me"

He looked down, as if trying to figure how he would succeed my request.

"You will know what to do when the time comes, and I am sure that you will succeed in anything you attempt to do"

He smiled, "I hope so". He sighed and looked out the window, noticing the sun high on the sky.

The blueness of the sky seemed to reflect in his eyes, his drooped eyes that seemed so different than how we usually see him. This is the real Soujirou. This is my son.

"I must leave for practice now, Shishio-sama will be waiting for me", he stood up and walked out the door.

"Have a great time, Soujirou"

"Thank you", he paused, and looked back at me "Thank you, Okaa-san"

Day 2

Slowly fanning myself underneath the gaze of summer, I listened for the falling petals of the trees. It should be the time already when the leaves slowly have ochre crawling to replace the green.

When I look at these hands, I can't help to think that these hands have lost their warmth. A long time ago, I was raised to be an oiran, to be a woman who pleased other people.

I was not happy then, even if my life was comfortable and peaceful, for I found true happiness only when I found Shishio-sama.

My hands were not meant to have warmth, they were meant only to be soft, to be caressing hands that wished for love and worldly pleasures.

Shishio-sama's hands were not meant to have warmth either, his was meant to wield great power, to lead the way. His was not soft like mine, the charred skin sometimes bled, but for me, they were softer than the clouds.

He was my Shishio-sama.

I easily loved him without knowing whether he loved me back or not. He never claimed to love me with the same undying passion with which I love him, but he understands me, and that is sufficient enough for me.

As an oiran, I was trained to dance, play music, read poetry and write calligraphy. My teachers taught me to have intelligence, for only with that can we sustain a conversation, and achieve our superior status than those of lowly courtesans.

But either way, I was taught to make others happy by performing worldly things. Shishio-san never asked for them, he never asked me to dance, sing, read nor write. He only asks me to stay by his side.

I was contempt with that. He needed not my unnecessary speech, and it is on rare occasions that he asks me to express my opinions.

Earlier today, Shishio-sama summoned me to his quarters. I was struck speechless when he handed me an old, dusty shamisen and asked me to sing.

Not since before the Mary Ruth case, when the government decided that we courtesans were nothing more than animals, have I held this instrument and played.

I asked him, "why?"

He merely smiled and ushered me to play. I thought if it made him happy, then I'd do it, I'd do anything to make him as happy as he's made me.

I've always wanted to fight, to be able to combat alongside Shishio-sama like the rest of the Juppon Gatana. But I've not the skills, nor the weapon. Now I am handed a shamisen, to execute a song, to show him the only skill I knew.

My fingers trembled within contact of the instrument, but I continued to pluck the strings. I can not remember the name of the song, but I do remember its lyrics.

My senior tayu taught me this song when I was still a hikkomi training in Yoshiwara. It was about a woman, who waited patiently for her lover who has left for battle, never to return. Songs of tragic lovers and doomed heroes were tradition to us courtesans.

He listened silently to the song, waiting for me to finish. A few moments of silence ensued after I strummed the last note of the song.

"Yumi", he asked suddenly, "If I am to go to battle and leave you behind, will you wait for me?"

"Yes"

"If I was to unknowingly perish in battle, will you continue to wait?"

I hesitated. Then I answered, "No".

He scoffed, to which I replied, "I shall not wait, for Shishio-sama will surely not perish, Shishio-sama will win the battle and return home safely to Yumi"

He smiled. Men and their possessions, I can never tell whether he loved me as his equal companion, or if he loved me as a possession.

"Would you die for me?" he continued.

"Will that make you happy?"

He looked at me, never before faced with such situation where I needed to intervene; I myself did not know how to answer. "Yumi will do anything for Shishio-sama"

Shishio-sama paused for a moment.

"Good"

At least he is happy. That is all that matters to me.

"Play again for me, Yumi"

I nodded, and strummed my shamisen again. By the time the song ended, Shishio-sama had fallen asleep on his chair. I smiled.

I stood up, ready to leave the room, but he opened his eyes and raised his hand to stop me.

"Why leave so soon? Dance for me"

"Shishio-sama, there is no music for me to dance to, I cannot dance while playing the shamisen", I laughed.

"Then I shall accompany you"

He picked up the shamisen, and began to play clumsily. It was not a song, the rhythm was off, the notes did not match nor did they flow. But Shishio-sama continued to play, so I began to dance.

The shamisen stopped, and my movements stopped, but Shishio-sama walked up to me and took my hands into his. Slowly we began to dance, no, we merely swayed side to side, as if music was playing.

We danced in silence, but the feel of the bandaged, charred palms against mine were music enough to my heart.

Perhaps if he'd never been battousai's successor, if he'd never learned the thrill of battle, he'd have been a well-mannered, soft person. He did not say anything while we danced, but it was unlike him to do such a thing.

True, he indulged the fineries of life, but to dance in silence, it made me feel as if we've led a normal life. As if he was not a man of battles, but a man who loved.

He stopped, and returned to his seat, resuming his performance with the shamisen. It was as if I was listening to a child playing, but I danced to it anyway.

It seemed like the heart of the strummer was at rage, at confusion. The unordered notes would've made not a beautiful composition, but still an expressive one.

He stopped and stood to hand over the shamisen to me.

"I simply cannot play this instrument, it is not like a sword"

I smiled, amused at his sudden comical actions. "You are able to play the shamisen, Shishio-sama, you merely cannot play it well"

He smiled, "play for me again, Yumi"

I sat down, while he sipped his tea, and started to play. Yes, another song of tragic lovers and doomed heroes. It reminded me of us.

The tragedy that is about to befall us.

The women of the songs, they stayed by their lover's side, through the joy and the pain. Perhaps, like every sad ending to the songs, I am destined to be like those women. Destined to meet painful endings.

But I, like them, will stay by Shishio-sama's side. Because I love him.

Because I want him. Desperately want him.

Once again, as I plucked the last note, I was met with silence. Shishio-sama's eyes were closed, and this time, when I stood to leave, he did not stop me.

The shamisen returned to silence, and so did I, to await tomorrow's judgement.

Day 1

"They have come"

"Yes"

"You are not sad?"

"I still believe it isn't a misdeed to worry, but Yumi believes that Shishio-sama will return safely to Yumi, so I am not sad"

I watched Shishio-sama's retreating figure, walking away to await his battle. This morning, as I wake, I found the shamisen lying by my futon, but I cannot play, for my fingers now tremble with fear. Soujirou walked past me, nodding at me with assurance.

My loved ones are walking away from me. I lied to Shishio-sama, for the anguish that engulfed my heart was too great to explain. I will once again lose all will to live. My predilection for this burnt man was greater than myself.

I am his mistress, but he was more than my master. In my eyes, Shishio-sama is God.

Shishio-sama is God. And thus, in the eyes of Komagata Yumi, God dies today.

x.x.x.X.X.x.x.x.x

A/N: I haven't made a RK fic in a long time. Dramatic ending, although Yumi seems over angsty, unlike her usual attitude. I hope you like it, please review, constructive criticisms are highly appreciated. )