What wakes her up is the gradual coldness beside her, a chilling emptiness that slowly permeates her to the core. Sayuri shivers, eyes flashing open in the dark and she doesn't need to look to know that she's alone in her bed right now.
With a sigh, she reaches up and runs her fingers through her hair in a haphazard attempt to comb it, absently noting that it's almost shoulder length now—she'll have to cut it again soon. Toeing on her shoes, she slips out the door and casually nods a greeting to the innkeeper.
"Our payment for last night's stay. Thank you for your hospitality," Sayuri says politely, tossing a handful of coins onto the counter. She pauses before adding another handful to the mix. "Oh, and this is for the gentleman in room eight. It should be enough to cover his bill."
"Ah—" The innkeeper begins, looking at the money in confusion before stopping himself. It's obvious that he's noticed she's paid quite a bit more than her due, but isn't fool enough to turn down extra cash.
"I'm afraid my brother may have made a bit of a mess upstairs," Sayuri replies smoothly, in answer to his unspoken question. Her lips quirk up in a sharp smile as she turns away, already heading towards the door. "Consider it an apology, for the added inconvenience on your part."
With that, she walks out of the inn, absently fingering her newfound money pouch. Quite unfortunate that its previous owner had gotten lost on his way back to his room last night, mistaking hers and Sousuke's for his own—although looking back, she supposes it isn't that surprising given the copious amounts of alcohol he seemed to have consumed beforehand. It was an understandable mistake and had he not also mistaken her for the whore he hired, she might have been inclined to forgive him.
She catches up with her brother on the outskirts of the district, mutilating a tree to pieces.
"You're up early," Sayuri comments, startling him.
"Sayuri. I didn't mean to wake you," he apologizes, glancing at her.
"It's not your fault," she answers. These days, she wonders if she can even fall asleep anymore without his signature warmth at her side. Ever since those two weeks she spent in the dark…she pushes the thought away, nodding at the sword in his hands. "I take it that's from our guest from last night? You're going to hurt yourself if you're not careful."
"As if a weapon like this could hurt me. Dull piece of garbage," he snorts, tossing it to the side dismissively.
"Is that a challenge, otouto?" Sayuri asks archly, picking the sword off the ground. Running her reiatsu through it, she suppresses a wince at the minute imperfections running through the steel. Still, dull hunk of metal or not, it's still a piece of metal in her hands and metal is something she can work with. Closing her eyes, she reaches for the pool of molten heat in the center of her chest and channels it down both arms, through her palms, and down the hilt until the blade starts glowing red hot.
"Oh, now that's just not fair," Sousuke complains, although his eyes are bright with something like anticipation. He jumps up and kicks down a branch from a nearby tree, holding it like a staff. Without further ado, he sets the end on fire. "Even if it's crap, at least you have a sword to work with. All I've got is a stick."
"Quality of the weapon doesn't matter as much as the quality of the wielder, Sousuke," Sayuri retorts.
"Fair enough." A slow smile begins to spread over Sousuke's face, revealing just a hint of teeth. "May the best wielder win, then."
"Just so you know, using a staff doesn't suit you," Sayuri mutters sullenly, picking burnt splinters out of her hair. "I mean, that branch was nearly as tall as you. You looked ridiculous."
"So did you," Sousuke retorts from where he's balanced precariously on a large rock. He dips a relatively-clean rag into the stream below him, wincing as he presses it to an angry-looking cut on his shoulder. "That sword was way too big for you and you know it."
"Also, that last trick you pulled was dirty. Blowing that stupid tree branch up in my face? I could've lost an eye," she continues, choosing to ignore her brother for the moment.
"Oh, please. You were already back-flipping out of the way," Sousuke snorts. "And what about me? Do you know the only thing worse than getting slashed half to pieces? Getting slashed half to pieces with a burning hot sword." At that, Sayuri winces and walks over to sit next to him.
"I'm sorry. I got carried away," she murmurs, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. "At least the blade cauterized your wounds?"
"Small comfort," Sousuke says grumpily, although the way he allows her to help bandage his arm tells her that she's already forgiven. "I guess this is a draw, then?"
"Don't think we have much of a choice, given what's become of our weapons," she says wryly, leaning into his side. Sousuke's makeshift staff is nothing more than a pile of woodchips right now, and her own sword currently consists of several chunks of half-melted metal.
"Mm. We could do so much better, you know," he murmurs into her hair. "We could be so much better."
"Sousuke—" Sayuri says warningly, stiffening. His arm around her tightens, preventing her from pulling away.
"Think about it. We could become stronger, so much stronger, I know we can," he says fervently. "Right now, we're stagnating. There's only so much we can learn on our own, but with the shinigami…" Sousuke's eyes are bright as he turns to look at her, his cheeks flushed, and she closes her eyes, feeling a hollow pang deep in her chest. She's not blind, she's noticed the way he's been quiet, contemplative, over the past few months, seen the longing glances he's cast in the direction of the Seireitei when he thinks she isn't looking, but for him to bring up the subject so soon…
"You would ask me to give up my freedom for you, Sousuke?" She asks softly. Again?
At that, Sousuke flinches minutely. He doesn't say anything for a long moment and when he finally speaks up again, his voice is nearly inaudible.
"Freedom hasn't made you happy, though," he mutters, not quite meeting her eyes.
"Excuse me?" She asks, a little too sharply.
"I said, freedom hasn't made you happy," he repeats, angry now. "It's ironic, isn't it? I watched as the fights back in the arena slowly killed you day by day, and now the only time I ever see you come alive is when you fight." His reiatsu lashes out agitatedly as he glares at her, eyes hard. "And you know why? It's because you're bored, Sayuri! Admit it, you're just as bored as I am!"
"Perhaps, but that's not the point," she says coolly. "I won't be a slave that mindlessly kills on the orders of someone else, Sousuke. Not again."
"I don't understand. So what's a couple more lives?" Sousuke asks in frustrated confusion. "It can't bother you that much, I mean it's not like leaving the arena stopped you from killing people—"
"It's not the thought of killing people, Sousuke!" She exclaims, running her hands over her face. "It's that I'd lose the right to refuse. And worse, I would be choosing to give that right up."
"So that's it, then?" Sousuke asks, expression unreadable. "That's your final answer?" Sayuri stays quiet for a long time, before gently resting a hand on his shoulder.
"If you joined the shinigami, I would follow," she says quietly. "But please. Please don't ask this of me."
"Sousuke, is the blindfold really necessary?" Sayuri asks exasperatedly as her brother leads her through the streets.
"This is meant to be a surprise, Sayuri," he chuckles, hand warm in hers. "It won't be much of a surprise if you figure it out before it's time, right?"
"You still haven't told me what the surprise is for," Sayuri points out, a touch warily. "Should I be concerned?"
"Think of it as an…apology, of sorts," he says, after a pause. "I shouldn't have pushed you so much before, and I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she says, feeling a little suspicious now. It's not like him to apologize, not for something like this. "Besides, that was weeks ago."
"Ah. I'm afraid this particular gift took a while to track down," he says sheepishly. "Still, I think you'll enjoy it. Now relax already, will you? We're almost there; now make a right—"
Sayuri isn't listening anymore though, having stopped dead in her tracks as a sickeningly familiar aura pricks at her senses.
"Sousuke, what is the meaning of this?" She asks, and hates herself for the way her voice shakes, ever so slightly. Sousuke pauses, hand tightening around hers.
"I'd hoped that his energy would be too weak for you to sense it. Rather foolish of me, in retrospect," he sighs. "I shouldn't have made the mistake of underestimating you."
"Why?" She asks, tearing her blindfold off before turning to stare at her brother in hurt disbelief. "We…we escaped that life. We moved on. Why would you bring me to him?"
"It's simple. I may havemoved on but you haven't, not really," he says calmly. As she continues to look at him with something like betrayal, his expression softens and he lifts one hand to cradle her cheek. "It's in the way you hate staying in small spaces, the way you look over your shoulder, the way you're constantly, constantly scanning your surroundings, the way you're terrified of handing over control for even a second. So here's your closure, Sayuri."
"Killing Matsushita won't solve anything," Sayuri says, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.
"Won't it?" Sousuke asks, a smile playing along the edges of his lips. "Don't tell me you haven't fantasized about it. I know I certainly did, back when we were still with that pig. Of course, we were too scared back then, too weak to follow through with it, but things are different now, aren't they?" He steps closer, soft brown eyes—their mother's eyes, she thinks absently, gentle and cruel in equal turn—meeting her own.
"He once took your control from you, and almost broke you in the process," he whispers. "Now's your chance to take it back."
The first thing Sayuri notices when she steps into the empty shack is that Matsushita is surprisingly unharmed. In fact, aside from the bruise on his temple and the fact that he's lost some weight, she could almost believe that she stepped back in time.
"I left him mostly untouched for you," Sousuke says as he walks over to Matsushita's prone figure, prodding him lightly with his foot. "Would you like me to wake him up?"
"Leave him," Sayuri says blankly, already feeling herself slip back into a familiar state of detachment. She doesn't fight the numbness, just lets it envelope her like an old security blanket as she continues, "I'll handle it."
"Alright. If you're sure," Sousuke says after a moment, a glimmer of concern in his eyes. "I'll be outside if you need me."
She just nods, so engrossed with the unconscious man on the ground that she barely even registers him leave. After another prolonged pause, she walks up and dumps half a bottle of water on the person her mother sold her to.
Matsushita splutters as he jolts awake, eyes flitting around frantically before settling on her.
"Sayuri-chan. Now there's a face I haven't seen in a while," he says, offering her a weak smile as he registers her features. She frowns at him.
"You aren't afraid," she observes. Matsushita smiles again, more genuinely this time, a hint of his old childish demeanor returning.
"Should I be? We're friends, aren't we Sayuri-chan? Oh, now don't be like that," he chides when her lips thin. "I took care of you and your brother for nearly a decade; fed you, clothed you, sheltered you, taught you how to survive. I'd say that makes us friends, don't you?" He looks around at the empty shack they're in, seemingly completely unbothered by the ropes binding his hands and feet together.
"Was this meeting your idea? Can't say I'm surprised; you always did find it hard to let things go." He grins up at her through yellowed teeth. "Tell me, do you still draw?"
Despite herself, Sayuri feels her hands tighten into fists, nails digging into her palm hard enough to cut through skin.
"My brother's idea, actually," she says, choosing not to acknowledge his last question. "He seems to be under the impression that killing you will please me."
"And will it?" Matsushita asks curiously. Sayuri stares at him in disbelief.
"This may not have been my idea, but you can't possibly think that I'll let you go alive," she says.
"Well, of course not. You're my kid, after all," he chuckles, and she feels her detached mask crack slightly at the pride in his words. "I taught you better than that."
"You're insane," Sayuri blurts out, unable to stop herself from taking a step back.
"Not insane. Just realistic," he corrects, looking at her through knowing eyes. "No point in fighting the inevitable, eh?"
"So you…you really feel no regret, at all. For what you've done," she murmurs. At that, Matsushita blinks in surprise.
"Regret? My dear girl, it was an honor to help you and your brother reach your potential," he says earnestly. "You know, out of all my kids, you two were my favorite? My masterpieces."
"We aren't yours," Sayuri spits out. "You—"
"We both know that you wouldn't have become half the person you are today without my help," Matsushita says impatiently. "I couldn't help but notice that you look rather healthy, for a parentless girl living on the streets. Living a cushy life, are ya? Can't imagine that it's hard, when you can simply kill the nearest person for money whenever you run out. Not to mention, who do you think gave you the strength to handle the majority of threats that come your way? Who do you think gave you the ability to escape the rings in the first place? Who do you think turned you from a weak, sniveling little girl into a fighter? Hate me all you like, but you can't deny that it's thanks to me that you didn't turn out just like your mother, whoring yourself out on the nearest street corner."
"No, you just turned me into a murderer instead," Sayuri says bitterly.
"Still not over that, huh? Well, you can't blame that entirely on me. The potential was always there, I just helped bring it out," Matsushita defends. "You think you would have survived in the rink otherwise? You think you would have excelled?" A wistful look crosses his face. "You remember those days, don't you? I especially liked the auctions, where the audience could pay to have you use weapons of their choice. Handkerchiefs, chopsticks, it didn't matter…oh, that one time you shoved a dildo down that little girl's throat and made her choke—"
His voice cuts off with an agonized yell as she stabs him in the stomach without warning.
"Don't worry, it won't kill you. Not yet, anyway," Sayuri says casually, twisting the dagger embedded in his abdomen and ignoring his subsequent bellow of pain. "The knife will stem the blood flow, for now."
Tilting her head to the side, she flares her reiatsu slightly and a minute later, she feels her brother enter the room.
"Yes, Sayuri?" He asks curiously, stepping forward and crouching down beside her.
"Matsushita-sama seems to be feeling nostalgic, so I thought I'd indulge him with one last performance," she informs him.
"Of course," he murmurs. "What do you want me to do?"
She doesn't answer, instead turning back to the groaning man on the floor.
"You remember my brother, don't you, Matsushita-sama? How he tears his opponents apart," she says softly, as beads of sweat start to form on Matsushita's face at the sight of Sousuke. She feels a bit offended, really; just because she usually favors quick, relatively painless kills doesn't mean she isn't capable of making a man suffer when she wants to.
"You were wrong before, you know," Sayuri adds, bringing his attention back to her. "We've never belonged to you. It doesn't matter what your orders were; every life I took, every time I forced myself to stay alive, that was all for him. As for Sousuke…he answers to me. He's always answered to me."
She smiles, lightly tracing his mouth, nose, eyes, and ears, before her hand settles on the knife still embedded in his abdomen.
"I want you to carve away his senses, one by one," Sayuri says suddenly, turning to where her brother is watching her with an enraptured expression on his face. "Start with his tongue, will you? I'm getting rather tired of hearing him talk." She caresses the lavishly crafted hilt sticking out of Matsushita's stomach before withdrawing, fingers sticky with blood. "And once you're done with his tongue, nose, eyes, and ears, pull this out. I want pain to be the last thing he knows."
"You're heading in the wrong direction, otouto," she calls out as Sousuke starts walking northward. They'd spent a shorter time than usual in this district, but after coming face-to-face with Matsushita in the first time in over ten years, she'd felt it was time to move on.
"Isn't this way north?" He asks, puzzled.
"Well yes, but the Seireitei is to our south," she says calmly. At her words, Sousuke freezes, tentative hope lighting up his face.
"Sayuri?" He asks hesitantly. She sighs, turning to face him.
"Matsushita was wrong about many things, but he was right about one thing. Everything I know about how to survive—how to defend myself, how to fight, how to turn just about anything into a weapon—was built on the foundations of what I learned while in Matsushita's care," she says, looking down at her hands. "And I refuse to accept that. I know that becoming a shinigami may not change anything, but at least I'll be able to say that the strength I gained there had nothing to do with the fighting rings." Sayuri glances up, a wry smile tugging at her lips.
"Don't look so surprised, Sousuke. You knew what seeing Matsushita would do to me, how much I'd hate the thought of being his legacy," she says tiredly. At that, he glances away, guilt flickering across his expression.
"Sayuri—" He begins, biting his lip.
"Don't." She interrupts. "We both know you don't regret it. After all, you got what you wanted, didn't you?"
"I—" He cuts himself off, before he can lie and say something like I didn't mean to hurt you.
Good. At least he still respects her that much.
"I didn't want to hurt you," he says, instead. She turns away, closing her eyes.
"I know," she says, not quite able to hide the sadness in her tone. "You never do."
Author's Note: If you're wondering why he didn't just leave to go become a shinigami (Sayuri already said that she would follow him, after all), he did want it to be her choice. It's just that his method of persuading her was rather…yeah.
Also, the knife she used was the same one she used to kill that one noble who tried to rape her, all those years ago. I thought it was fitting.