Yup, I would like to apologise for not doing my best in writing Blood, Tears and Lavender Petals, for CrapPishh's fanfic challenge. I should have realised from the start that the storyline was screwed.

So…well, yeah, I'm sorry about that. I swear not to make the same mistake again. This is sort of a replacement to that; not for any contest, but still for CrapPishh.

And I know I told some of you that my next oneshot would be completely action. I'm just sticking this in before that, okay?

BTW before you ask me how it's related to Maple, Kaede Castle is actually a future MapleStory area, which hasn't gone to any servers other than kMS and cMS. I'm only guessing what it's like here.

Dedicated absolutely and completely to CrapPishh, to whom I owed something better

N i g h t o f B l o o d

(and all was calm once again)

Kaede Castle.

The Kaede bloodline had stood unbroken for centuries, generation after generation ruling the town of cherry blossoms in peace. It was their pride, an infallible ruling line that the people had loved and cherished for half a millennium.

For that same amount of time, the graveyards had been silent. As the crows never flew by night, so hadn't the ghosts been awakened in unrest before.

In one night, so much would happen.

A girl lay beneath her sheets, gazing at the clear moonlight. A sigh slipped through her lips, and she urged sleep to come, still finding no relief or rest.

The crickets and cicadas chirped with a throbbing rhythm, sweet songs of the warm night. The leaves were brushed like a hand running through wind chimes. They rang like whispering bells.

when will tomorrow come? when will my wishes come true?

The next day was special. The next day, she would be sixteen. The next day, she would finally be eligible to get married. The next day, she would finally be with the one she loved, until the end of time.

How many suitors had she had to turn down for this man? There had been others she had loved more, but her own parents had turned down. The rest—it had been an easy choice, for one stood out. And tomorrow, she would be marrying him.

Outside, the moonlight was like pure silver upon her white blankets. It shone like the moon itself in her obsidian hair, upon her gracefully closed eyelids. Beneath them, her vision was whirling with dreams of the day—red-dressed pillars and doorways, banners that read with messages of prosperity and blessing. Petals of the cherry blossoms that would land at her doorstep and not be swept away, a carpet of glory for the newly-wedded couple.

She couldn't wait. Her heart was like a butterfly of spring, as she opened her eyes a crack and watched the silhouette of the trees outside. They had once frightened her when she had been eight, but long-gone were those fears. They brought promise of the next dawn.

Regretfully, her thoughts crossed over her first love. He had been a gardener, and their love had been so true. But her parents had frowned upon them. The princess couldn't have a peasant for a husband! It was a tradition that had to be kept. So she had to leave him, for fear of her parents.

But what point was there in lingering over that? At the end of this night, she would be a woman. She would have the man she loved, and all her regrets would be gone.

In one night, so much would happen.

A man stood on the eaves of a building in the shining moonlight. In his hands was cradled a black dagger, cold though he had held it for so long—his hands were cold.

At the back of his mind, he saw the image of his old love, and he felt his heart tear.

She had smiled and professed her love for him, with no hint of doubt surfacing in that expression, in her unshaking voice. She had given herself to him, and he had thought that she would be his wife.

Then quickly as she had given it, she had taken it away. The man's hands shook with his rage.

"I'm sorry. I can't love you, or marry you. I must go."

Now, a year later, she suddenly had herself a new husband-to-be! She had wrenched his heart from his chest with her departure, and now she would be with someone else.

Her beauty still haunted him all the time, and her sweet kindness, when they had been lovers.

No. It had all been a lie. All along, she had been pretending to love him, and now she had another man—a rich one, at that. She simply left him like that, for someone else. She was going to get married tomorrow.

Tomorrow. He wouldn't let tomorrow come.

Slipping across the tiles, he was one with the shadows. Ever so silently, he crossed the ground and was at her window—the window through which, once, she had escaped to meet him. It would now be the passageway to her end.

Her eyes were closed, as his shadow appeared on the floor, against the luminous moonlight. The tree branches were waving before him.

Sweet girl, I once loved you. Too bad you decided to leave me. You will die at the hands of the Crimson Dagger.

For years, he had longed for revenge on her. From the day she had left, his rage had grown within him. But this rage wasn't like fire; it was ice—it had slowly frozen his heart and bred his thirst for vindication.

For years, he had trained. His every killing had brought him more skill. He had fumbled at first, but it had slowly grown in him—the skill with which he stole life and breath with a single dagger flick. He had earned himself a name, found his way into history—the deadliest assassin who had ever lived in the town.

His fame had raised great pride in him. Tonight, he would commit what would be his most famous crime—he would assassinate the princess, the girl who had left his heart in shards and splinters.

He was on her floor. The carpet was soft beneath his feet. This was the princess who had lived a pampered life, who had never known the truth of the outside world, who had thought it fine to just dump him, like that! It didn't matter what excuse she had to give. After this night, she would be silent forever.

when will tomorrow come?

Tomorrow would never come.

He was close enough to hear her breath, to see how her beauty still remained painted on her face. He could see her smile, still set in the way it had been when she had taken his hand.

Lies. Nothing but lies.

Suddenly her eyelids fluttered open. At once they filled with tears. "H-Hideyoshi…my—love…Is it truly you? Why are you here? I'm so sorry—"

"NO! You lied to me!"

The blade flashed in the calm of the moonlight. Her eyes widened as he struck with black metal. And she screamed.

Blood sprayed upon the carpets and the sheets, and her voice died to a hoarse whisper, and nothing. The crows flew away on their dark wings, into the bright moon. And the wind howled. The ghosts turned in their graves, all across the area, howling like wolves.

The moonlight became a stream of blood through her window.

…never.

Suddenly shivering, he pulled the dagger from her neck. Blood burst from the wound and rained onto the carpet. He couldn't stand it, being in this room, with a dead body. He leapt through the window and ran on, over the grass towards his dark home, beneath the watch of the blood red moon.

Then he remembered that he lived in a graveyard—the royal graveyard, at that. Too late. The ghosts were already rising from their graves, shadowed on the white and gold tombstones as he approached the pathway under the shadow of raging trees. The air seemed to freeze on his skin, and he could not move. Not a single twitch.

They rained upon him, swirling through the night, holding him in devastating coldness that he screamed at to end. He could hear their whispers through the blizzard, tormenting and cold. He could see images of her face all over his vision, her smile full of genuine love. Suddenly her eyes and lips rained blood, and her expression went blank, mouth opening to form the syllables with red-stained lips:

"I still loved you. Why did you take my life?"

Crying out in defiant terror, he was brought to his knees amid the roar of ghostly howls. Had she truly still loved him? Had it not been a lie?

He could see her eyes. Love, so deep, deeper and more passionate than the ocean. Voice, so truthful and unwavering, sweet as the scented winds of spring.

Had he just killed her?

Sakurako…I am the traitor. I still loved you, too.

Then he looked upon his blade, still gleaming with glossy blood. Her blood.

It soared through his chest, through his ribcage, tearing sinew and flesh. He grinned as he felt the pain ripple through his body, and the blood began to bloom in his cloaks, hot on his freezing skin. He smiled, as the lifeblood drained out of him, sucking the life from him in a storm of red and black; of anger, guilt and satisfaction.

Then he was beyond consciousness, and his world dropped beneath a black shadow. The moon faded to calm silver, and the ghosts returned to the graves, appeased.

never again.

In one night, so much happened. The princess was killed. The bloodline of Kaede's royalty was broken. The crows flew by night. The moon turned red. An assassin died by his own hand. A broken lover found his strange peace in a rain of blood.

In one night,

and all was calm once again.

I actually found myself gaping at what I wrote. I completely didn't plan this; it was done on a whim.

By the way, you might have noticed that I've been slow at posting. No, I have not lost inspiration. Be patient, okay?

P.S. "Kaede" means "maple" in Japanese.