The contest went on for three hours, and by the time the final rounds started Mitsuhide and Kumiko had yet to face off against one another. There were four people left, and two matches with Kumiko and Mitsuhide fighting different people. As she swung to disarm her opponent Kumiko contemplated throwing the match just so she wouldn't have to be near Mitsuhide, but her attack connected before she could make her decision. She won though it felt more like a loss.

Sure she had originally shown up so she could fight the tall brown eyed man, and prove she was fine without him, but now it felt like a cruel joke. So many people would be watching them, judging her whether she won or loss. Kumiko didn't want to make her closure a spectacle, but now it was.

Mitsuhide won his match, and now they were standing across from one another. Referee between them ordered their handshake which Kumiko hesitated to do. Swallowing her nerves she took Mitsuhide's offered hand.

As they shook Kumiko, under her breath, said, "Don't confuse this with respect."

As their hands parted Mitsuhide said, "I know."

"Begin!" the ref proclaimed.

Mitsuhide and Kumiko whipped out their swords pointing at one another. The two of them stood there for a long time just staring at each other waiting for their opponent to attack first. The crowd around them dead quiet as they eagerly waited for the battle to begin.

"Kumi-chan," Mitsuhide began.

That's all it took to send Kumiko into full attack mode. Both of her hands gripped the handle of her weapon as she swung at him a hiss of rage ripped out of her.

As their swords clashed Kumiko yelled, "You have no right to call me that!"

Pushing her back with a grunt Mitsuhide said, "I know I lost that right when I came to the castle."

"Same day I lost my brother," she growled.

Kumiko charged at Mitsuhide swinging and jabbing at him with all her strength. He easily deflected them as they danced around the ring.

"Kumi-chan I didn't break my promise," he fought.

Planting his foot Mitsuhide switched from defense to offense forcing Kumiko to follow his pace as their battle raged on. Kumiko gritting her teeth tried to remember her basic footwork so she wouldn't trip at the speed Mitsuhide was fighting.

"Tell that to that bastard Jin!" Kumiko screamed. Her lower lip was trembling and her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. Face glowing red with anger and betrayal she added, "Everyday was a new hell."

"Then why did you stay?" he challenged. Hurt colored his face pale, and revenge burned in the brown eyes they shared.

"Because I was a hopelessly positive child that believed her hero would save her one day. But he ran away and never came back," she shot.

She dodged the swipe at her legs, kicking at Mitsuhide's wrist sending him stumbling backwards. As he regained his footing Kumiko took advantage of the split second opening to lunge and twist the blade of her weapon around his. With a swift yank Kumiko watched the handle slip out of Mitsuhide's grip, and a premature grin of victory slipped across her face.

Before the wooden sword was out of reach Mitsuhide grabbed it with his other hand halting Kumiko's win. As he pulled back to regain his height advantage he said, "I left my sword with you!"

Kumiko's gaze turned from a scowl to a dark unamused leer as she growled, "You abandoned it because you became too good for a simple guards sword. Just because you work for a prince doesn't make you better than me."

Their swords returned to clashing, each collision harder than the last. The crowd cheering loudly for the intense duel.

"I've never thought that Kumiko," Mitsuhide fought. "Not once have I ever thought that. I left that sword for you because I knew you were strong enough to wield it. You've always been strong."

Swinging her sword wildly Kumiko yelled, "You abandoned us! It's too late to make excuses. Nothing you say will ever make up for your leaving. That's why I'm here."

Tears streamed down Kumiko's face as each of her attacks were repeated. They were both panting and sweating, tired from the long contest that seemed never ending.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, but you need to know the truth," he hollered.

"You left, you stopped caring -what's left to know?" she challenged.

Mitsuhide brought his sword down with bone crushing force that shook Kumiko's frame. His face flared up a dark red as his voice boomed out of him "Kumiko Lowen you may be twenty, and you may hate me but that gives you no bases to say I don't care! You are my sister and believe it or not but I do care and worry about you," he yelled.

Mitsuhide didn't let up as he brought Kumiko to the edge of the ring, their weapons clanging together like the final cries of war.

"Nice words, if only they were true," she spat.

His eyes narrowed at her as he jabbed his elbow into her forearm knocking one hand from her sword. "Jomei-sensei always said how you leave your right side open. He also mentioned how light-footed you were. You were one of his favorite pupils," he said tonelessly.

Kumiko stared up at the tall man startled at his knowledge. Her parents didn't know about her lessons with Jomei-sensei so they couldn't have told Mitsuhide, and she never would have spoken a word to him about it. How did he know Jomei-sensei taught her how to use a sword?

"How-?" Kumiko began.

"I know you hate me, but I still checked up on you," he stated.

"Why?"

They were pushing against one another, Kumiko struggling with one hand her right sore and throbbing at her side from his sharp elbow. Her cheeks damp with irritated tears and hood falling back to reveal her flushed face, and wide scared eyes.

"Because you're my sister," Mitsuhide simply answered.

Tightening her hold on her wooden sword Kumiko shoved him back. Swinging her weapon in an attempt to end the duel so she could leave. She wanted to get as far away from him and the castle as she could. Suddenly the sword didn't seem as important or precious as Kumiko remembered, it was just a hunk of metal.

"I don't have a brother. He's dead. You can't bring him back now, not after everything I've fought for. Not when I swore to prove that I didn't need him anymore," Kumiko cried out.

Mitsuhide was calm as he dodged the wild attacks. He nodded at her as a broken smile tugged at his face. It was a ghost of the proud grin he used to give her when they were very young, back when her hero always came running when she cried. His expression caused Kumiko to stumble in her usually perfect footwork.

"You've more than proved it over the years Kumi-chan," he calmly stated.

"D-Don't call me th-that," she stammered.

Raising her sword Kumiko smashed it into Mitsuhide's, but the force behind it was weak and that of a cranky child. It shouldn't have knocked his weapon aside yet there Mitsuhide stood disarmed and "defeated."

Stepping aside to allow the ref near Kumiko Mitsuhide nodded at the stunned girl.

"And our winner is number six, Kumiko Lowen!" the announcer called as the ref held up her left hand in victory.

The crowd cheered as they closed in around her. Kumiko felt like a loser drowning in a sea of undeserved praise. The clapping and hollers were lost in the numb ringing in her ears as she was handed the sack of prize money and the sword she had been determined to get back. Now it hung unusually heavy from her hip as she made her way out of the training hall with the celebrating audience.

Kumiko locked herself inside her head as the crowd around her dragged her from sake booth to ale vendor to celebrate her win on her coin. She didn't care she wasn't in it for the cash, but she also hadn't planned to emotionally battle Mitsuhide that day either. He had surrendered at the end allowing her to win in the cheapest way possible. Drink after drink didn't numb her to the feelings bubbling inside her from Mitsuhide's expression. It was like looking at the brave brother she admired through a shattered window, distorting the perfectly strong figure into something unbelievably fragile.

By the time the sun began setting Kumiko's money was half gone and she was drunkenly seeing triple. Her legs were like jello as she stumbled to leave the festival, to leave the castle, to leave the country of Clarines. But Kumiko barely made it across the courtyard without falling over.

"Stupid Mitsuhide. Made me a cheater," she grumbled.

As she walked she spotted a rock that she wanted to kick, and when she tried she missed and tripped. Falling backwards a squeak of a scream escaped her, but it was cut off when she was caught before hitting the ground.

Glancing upward Kumiko saw three pairs of yellow eyes staring at her. "Hey good catch," she chuckled sarcastically.

"Can you stand?" Obi asked.

"Nope. Can't even feel my legs," Kumiko slurred.

She watched the six eyes roll as she was shuffled and shifted until she was lifted off her feet. The rocking as she was carried was doing horrible things to her alcohol filled stomach.

"O-bi," she hummed. She tossed her arms around his neck as she stared up at the star speckled navy sky. "Have you been following me?"

"You're drunk Little Mi-," he began.

Kumiko pressed two fingers to his mouth silencing him. "Yes I am, and don't say that name. I might puke," she said.

"That's harsh," he commented when she lowered her hand.

"No, that was a warning. I drank. A lot," she clarified.

Obi chuckled as he walked along, following the path to the tower where her room was.

"Hey Obi," Kumiko mumbled. She returned her arms to encircling his neck, and dropped her head onto his shoulder. Her stomach doing unsettling flips as she rocked back and forth.

"Why'd you stand with him?" she asked.

"I was standing with the Miss," he said.

"But jerkface was there too," she whined.

"Because of our master," he replied.

"Good excuse," she grumbled.

"You're not punching me," he observed. Voice deep and smooth as they entered the palace, moving away from the winding down festivities.

"Too drunk," she slurred.

"So where were you going when you fell?" he inquired.

"Away," she answered.

"Why?"

"Why are you carrying me?" she challenged.

"I made a promise," Obi said.

"So that was real. Good to know, it's been driving me nuts," she murmured sleepily.

"Really?"

"Yeah, a witch's black cat is a mysterious creature. I never know what he's thinking."

"Do you want to know?" Obi's voice dropped to a husky whisper that caught Kumiko's drunken attention.

Cracking her eyes open she leaned back so she could look up at him. His expression was honest, a rare sight to see for Kumiko.

"Yesss, I would, but I'm going to go first," she said.

Obi arched a brow at her. "Alright," he said.

"Can I stay in your room?" Obi stopped walking abruptly as his gaze widened at her, but Kumiko just kept talking. "Shirayuki's gonna come looking for me and who knows who else, and I don't want to talk about it," she explained.

Slowly nodding in understanding Obi began walking again. "Is it my turn now?" he questioned.

"Well what's your answer?" she asked.

"It comes with that."

"Okay."

Obi's pace slowed to almost a funeral march as he spoke. "I think you should stay. Clarines could use a guard like you; fierce, stubborn and tough. I wouldn't mind seeing you around either," he said.

Kumiko squinted up at him trying to get her vision to focus, but all she could manage was two and a half Obis. "Is thatta yes?"

"It's not a no," he said.

Groaning Kumiko tossed her head back and said, "Black cats."

A smirk quirked up the corners of Obi's mouth as he turned down a side hall, away from the tower with Kumiko's temporary room.


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