Soul
Chapter Nine
The Western Edge: Choice
Sanada Yukimura has a job to do.
Assassin, rebel, soldier, he stands tall and still and silent against a background of velvet night. He wears black because that is what the darkness requires of him, but there is red on the hilt of his dagger and red on the grip of his gun. There is red in his hair, a length of silk tied around his forehead and binding back his hair -
The red is dark as blood in the midnight quiet, and blood is what he has come seeking.
For six days, an army has been amassing on the eastern shore of his great nation, not five mile away from his village. The army is of his mother's people, and though she has asked him to stay away from the resistance that is forming, though she has asked him to wait, to remember that some of these people are his kin...
She is a woman, and his mother, and Japanese.
She does not understand.
She does not understand that part of Yukimura has been waiting for battle to break out since the day he was born.
It is the part of him that told him which weapons to choose, when the armaments of the resistance were laid out in front of him.
It is the part of him that dreams in blue and lightning.
The part of him that remembers a solitary kiss.
A/N:Yuki first this time...onward to Masamune!
Please Review!