Author's Note: I've grown really attached to Omiro. He and his lady will be scattered around various fics. He's so precious haha
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the official Rurouni Kenshin/Samurai X characters. I do reserve the rights to all OCs
Changes in Friendship
Chapter Twenty Eight
It was days before Shousha spoke again.
Iizuka had not come to finish what he had started, nor did he pay her any sort of visit that might imply that he planned to make good on his threat. This was of course, because Katsura had been present the entire time. Still, each time the door slid open, or footsteps padded by, Shousha buried herself under her blanket, biting the inside of her cheek in attempt to calm the trembling of her body.
Ikumatsu had, as she said she would, taken the blame for the broken vase. To the surprise of no one, Katsura had smiled at her gently and told her it could be replaced. This wasn't true, as it had been a one of a kind item, but he found it difficult to be upset with her over anything.
In addition to clearing up the pottery issue, the geisha had discreetly informed him that his wife was in a significant amount of pain stemming from a certain, rather delicate, feminine issue. and she wouldn't be wanting to be close to him at this time. He had accepted her warning with thanks, and ignored Shousha for five days. She didn't like to be near him when she wasn't in pain. He imagined that her suffering would lead to anger and as his headaches were just beginning to finally dull, he didn't want to aggravate them.
On the sixth night, however, as he slid into bed beside her, he propped himself up on his elbow and from their near two foot distance, watched her. She hadn't been out of bed for nearly a week except to bathe, and from what he remembered, even that had been with assistance. What he had managed to see of her face was ashen and unlike her, even at her worst moments. He knew, even if he would never understand, the pain of a woman's monthly cycle, but this was different.
As she shuddered in the darkness, Katsura reached forward and laid his hand on her shoulder. She sucked in a breath, scooting away from him. There were no bitter remarks, no quick flailing of her tiny fists.
"Are you still in pain?"
She didn't answer him, but kept her back turned, squeezing her eyes shut and wishing he would go to sleep. He had left her alone thusfar; why begin curiosities now? Because he wasn't daft. Surely he had calculated how much time he had before she was, for lack of better word, approachable again.
"I pray you are well tomorrow," he said earnestly, laying down and turning away from her.
This attitude of hers bothered him. As irritating as she was, he much preferred her company when she was trying to cause him harm or run away. Her liveliness and determination both impressed and entertained him. It was cruel to find amusement in her grief, but he couldn't help it. She was like fireworks.
Katsura greatly enjoyed fireworks.
As the next morning crept into afternoon, Shousha found herself alone. She pushed back her blankets, staring straight ahead at the vanity Katsura had bought for her.
Her reflection embarrassed her.
She looked like a madwoman. Her hair was unkempt, knotted in more places than she cared to count, stringy, and oily from her constant state of lethargy. She had refused food over the past week and her eyes were beginning to appear too big for their sockets. Her cheeks were sunken in slightly and her complexion was taking on a sickly greyish hue.
Frustrated, she reached for a comb, running it furiously through her hair, desperate to make it look decent. It took longer than it should have; she spent the better half of her time combing out knots and some, too mangled to save, were ripped right from her scalp, collecting in a deranged pile of what looked like nest material.
When finally her hair reached a manageable state, she pulled it back, braiding it over her shoulder and with a short exhale, adjusted her bangs, and sat before herself again.
"Who are you?" she whispered to the looking glass, wanting to weep for the deteriorating female staring back at her.
You are weak, it hissed back, weak and useless.
"I'm not weak," she told herself, but with her shaking voice, the reflection didn't even attempt to believe her. "I'm not weak."
Your pride makes you weak.
The thought that slithered into her head was an accurate one, something she had tried to suppress from the very first day. All the trouble she had gotten into since marrying Katsura stemmed from one source: her pride.
Pride had made her attack Iizuka, and to provoke him. Pride had kept her on the roof in the pouring rain, freezing and stupid. It was pride too, that kept her holed up in this room. Fear played a part of this; she was willing to admit that she was terrified of what the examiner might do should he have the chance to be alone with her again. Pride, however, kept her from seeking her husband's protection.
It was pride that would get her killed.
"I have to see Kogoro," she whispered, tasting his name on her tongue. She didn't like it; it was bitter and unfamiliar, but also necessary. He was powerful, far more powerful than anyone else here, save Himura, but he was too disinterested in her, and too loyal to Katsura, to side with Iizuka.
She could ask for his help, she could do it, and still keep some of her pride in tact.
Shedding her yukata for the first time in a week, Shousha pulled a glittering red and gold kimono from the wardrobe and dressed herself, taking extra time to be sure she looked perfect. There was little she could do about her complexion, but he was accustomed to her pallor and if anything, it would only add to her case. Saying a quick prayer for courage, she took a deep breath, and opened the door.
Her eyes met those of Omiro, widened with surprise, his mouth hanging open slightly and his left hand raised in a fist, preparing to knock. In his right hand, he held a small arrangement of wildflowers.
"I-I'm sorry!" he sputtered, holding the flowers out to her, "I heard you had taken ill and wanted to give a token of sympathy."
Shousha looked at the blossoms in his hand, then back up to his face, pleading with her to accept his gift.
"What do you want?" she asked, her tone suspicious and slightly sour. "I'm married."
Omiro let out a nervous chuckle as his face reddened. "It's not that," he admitted, "but you see.. I mean we're both... can we be friends?"
Pushing past him, she let out a huff. "You're just a kid. Leave me alone."
He didn't pry any farther, but when she disappeared down the stairs, he stole into her room and laid the flowers across her vanity.
The patriots that Shousha passed on her way to the meeting room did little to hide their surprise of seeing her. Her silence, along with Katsura's lack of mentioning her, had left some of them to believe she had escaped, or perhaps died. These were both ridiculous assumptions of course, but there were those who had been hopeful.
Just as she rounded a corner, she felt a familiar presence. She had no training in martial arts and could not usually detect a person's energy, but there was one soul that her senses were on a constant alert to, searching for it. Two eyes that burned through her body, and one terrifying lazy smirk that consumed her.
"Where are you headed, princess?"
His voice wasn't threatening, not to the untrained ear, but Shousha knew what he meant. He was testing her, daring her to admit she was seeking out her husband's protection.
In an attempt to block out the choking fear rising up in her chest, she pictured Okita's face. He was smiling at her, holding out his hand. All she had to do was be strong and survive this nightmare. Then she'd be able to hold that hand again and he would take her anywhere they wanted to go.
She only had to survive.
"My business is my own, Iizuka," she replied stiffly, raising her chin and not looking at him.
He let out a humorless laugh. "You won't get far. He's in a meeting."
"He'll admit me," she said, "I am his wife."
Iizuka reached for her arm, but she pulled away quickly, her veil of calm sliding from her face. He took pleasure in this.
"How convenient for you," he said haughtily, "that you have the luxury of deciding when a man is and isn't your husband. You're more like your parents than you think."
Not responding, she left him. He didn't call after her, but there was no mistaking his footsteps several paces behind hers.
A man sat in front of the door to the meeting room and Shousha graced him with a smile. Being rude had never gotten her very far. The man sputtered a bit, blinking a few times, trying to process the expression.
"K-K-Katsura-san!" he cried.
"I need to speak with Katsura-san," she said gently, nibbling on her lip to keep herself from gagging on her own words or slapping him for referring to her by her married name.
Standing, the man shook his head. "I'm so sorry, but he's in a meeting right now. He can't be disturbed."
"He will see me," she told him, "I am his wife."
"I'll take care of this," Iizuka said slyly, coming up behind her and giving his comrade a grin. The guard sighed with relief, happy that someone else besides their leader was willing to deal with her.
"No!" Shousha screamed, pounding on the young samurai's chest. "Please let me in! I need to speak with him!"
When Iizuka's fingers wrapped around her upper arm and she felt the force of him pulling her away, her breath hitched. She had been too weak to fight him off once. She could not, would not let him abuse her again.
"PLEASE!"
"There's nothing I can do, ma'am, I'll be sure to let him know you were asking for him."
"Be a good girl, princess, and come with me."
But Shousha did not want to be a good girl. With all the strength she had, she ripped her arm out of Iizuka's grasp and gripped the front of the guard's clothing. Her screaming had attracted an audience and several young men were gathered in the hall, craning their necks to see what all the fuss was about.
"Help me," she whispered.
"My apologies," Iizuka told him, this time placing two forceful hands on her arms and tugging her backwards, "she is not well today."
"He is my husband!" she screeched, digging the balls of her feet into the wood of the floor to resist Iizuka's hold, "He will see me! He will see me! Please! Please!"
The young guard opened his mouth to apologize again, but the door slid open. Iizuka released Shousha immediately, as if her clothing were poison. Katsura stepped out into the hall, taking note of the onlookers that scattered, then to the three people before him.
"What's all this?" he asked, his mild tone laced with placid curiosity.
Shousha stared up at him, eyes wide, trembling where she stood. When his gaze dropped to her, she did the unthinkable.
In three short steps she reached him, and with a muffled cry, buried herself against his body, fists clenching his kimono. It was strange how comforting he was. His body was hard and muscled from his training, but warm and inviting all the same. She hated herself for this, sobbing into his chest, and praying for him to wrap his arms around her and hide her from the world.
Iizuka cleared his throat. "If you will see her, my presence is not necessary." With a low bow, he turned and left, leaving behind no suspicion.
The guard looked over at Katsura, taking in his stunned expression as he stood there, arms lifted in surprised, looking down at Shousha's head. Suddenly unsure of himself, he lowered one of his hands stiffly and mechanically, patting the top of her hair.
"I need to speak with you," she whispered shakily, lifting her face to his.
"Now?" It was an awkward angle to speak at, his chin pressed up against his neck as he stared down at the woman so close to him. "can it wait?"
Shousha stepped back, wiping her eyes. "I can wait," she told him, "but only if the waiting can be done in your presence."
Her request vexed him. Was this the same woman he had married? The pseudo Miburo who wanted nothing to do with him? The terrifyingly emotional lover of the Shinsengumi's first captain? She had dedicated an entire month to hating him. Why then was she here now, holding herself against him, desperate for his attention?
With a hand on her lower back, he steered her into the room where several of his comrades sat, either curious or suspicious. He had been vague about his marriage and while some of them were optimistic that she wasn't such a bad creature, others held a venomous distaste for her, their hatred for her parents spilling over onto her.
Katsura seated Shousha in the far corner and with an encouraging look, handed her a shamisen.
"Do you play?"
Being their entertainment in exchange for protection from molestation was more than fair and when she nodded and accepted the instrument, she felt no resentment towards him at all.
The meeting didn't last much longer and when the last man had taken his leave, Shousha put aside the shamisen and folded her hands in her lap, waiting for permission to speak.
Katsura did not waste any time. It wasn't in him to do so. Motioning for his wife to come to the center of the room, he sat before her as she tucked her legs under her knees and fidgeted with her hands.
"Now," he said, giving her an appraising once-over, "what matter is so pressing?"
He wasn't being condescending with her and she was thankful for that. "I have a request," she replied quietly.
He nodded for her to issue it.
"Please," she begged, "do not allow Iizuka to be alone with me."
Rubbing his forehead, Katsura sighed. So that's what this was about.
"Shousha," he started, "I understand that the two of you find yourself at odds with the other, but-"
"It's not that!" she protested, but he held a hand up to silence her.
"You are a grown woman, Shousha. You are impulsive and irrational, but please. I am too busy to sort out the skirmishes that you get yourself into. Learn to control your temper and you will find that he isn't so difficult to get along with."
Gritting her teeth, Shousha began to shake. "That's what you think this is?" she asked, staring challengingly into his eyes, "you think I'm tattling on him? Do you take me for a child?"
"I would not put it past you to manipulate others in order for you to make your life more comfortable. You are spoiled and selfish."
Hurt, she shook away the tears from her eyes and ripped back the sleeve of her kimono, shoving her bruised arm into his vision.
"Does this look spoiled? Is this selfish?"
At once, Katsura's judgement collapsed. Reaching out, he took hold of her arm tenderly, disbelieving eyes roaming over the four or so inches of broken blood vessels and splattered complexion. It wasn't purple anymore; not completely. The black and blue hues were fading into nauseating greens, yellows, and browns, but scattered across her flesh were dark burgundy splotches where the blood had clotted under her skin.
"He did this?" Katsura's voice was a mere whisper as he continued to examine her wound. It was unsightly, and caused his stomach to churn uncomfortably.
"He frightens me," she breathed, swallowing hard. "My words are often unkind, so perhaps I deserved it but-"
"No."
Shousha sat back, surprised at his harsh tone.
"No," Katsura repeated, "I have heard the words you say. They are petty and childish. A grown man should know this. The action taken to punish you is unacceptable and I will rectify this immediately."
With a shaky breath, she nodded, placing her hands on the tatami before her and bowing low in thanks. It was humiliating, humbling herself before this man, but when she raised her head to him, she met not the satisfied glint of a man who had achieved victory, but the apologetic stare of a man who regretted a situation he had not been able to control.
With a soft, yet commanding hand, he lifted her chin, examining the barely visible bruise on her jaw.
"And this as well?"
She nodded again.
"When did this happen?" he asked, removing his hand from her face.
"At the marketplace," she responded quietly.
"Ah, so this has been the reason for your seclusion."
"I had seen a friend of mine," she explained, inhaling deeply. "she was my lady in waiting when I lived at Yamata house. She married two weeks after-" she paused digesting the thought, "two weeks after we were wed. I wanted to offer her my congratulations."
Katsura blinked slowly. "This friend of yours, would you like for me to arrange for her to attend you once again?"
Shousha smiled bitterly, "Of course, but we both know you would not put yourself in such a dangerous position."
He raised a brow in question and she smoothed out the fabric that covered her lap.
"She has married the Shinsengumi's third captain," she said, smiling softly. She would even like to see his face again. She'd apologize for being such a burden. He wouldn't accept it of course, but at this point, she would take what she could get.
Katsura nodded. "I see. That is rather unfortunate."
"Not for them." Shousha told him, "they were very lucky. They made a love match."
"That is lucky," he agreed.
They sat in silence for some time, neither of them knowing how to continue the conversation. It was the first truly civil moment they had ever shared and unused to being on level ground, they were both at a loss for words.
It was Shousha who broke the silence.
"Do you have my letter?" She rather doubted he would let her read it, but anything was worth a try.
"Letter?" he questioned. "I have received no correspondence in regards to you."
Shousha turned to glance at the courtyard through the open shouji. "Oh. Nevermind then."
Katsura stood. "I'll be leaving now. I will see that your request is fulfilled. Would you like me to escort you upstairs?"
"No," she replied calmly, watching two birds as they flitted about in a cheerful dance of flirtation, "I will remain here for a while."
"As you wish," he said, sliding open the door and slipping out.
The hallway was unusually deserted, but before long, he came across Himura Kenshin who greeted him respectfully, as he always did.
"Himura. Please have Iizuka meet me in the back room."
Without expression, he nodded, turning to retrieve the examiner.
"Oh and Himura-"
Himura turned. "Katsura-san?"
Katsura smiled tenderly. "My wife is in the large living area. Once you have fetched Iizuka, please watch over her. Discreetly, of course."
With another nod, he acknowledged the order and Katsura headed to the back of the inn. With each step he took, he inhaled deeply. He hadn't been a big fan of Shousha when she had first come to him, but as every day past, he grew more fond of her. He would never love her, but he dreamed of a civil union. After her stunt during the rain, contentment seemed to grow closer after each passing hour.
Because of his newfound attitude towards her, he was angry that someone, that a trusted man would have the audacity to cause her such harm. No, it wasn't that. Who was he fooling? This wasn't about her. This was about him. One of his men had overstepped his boundaries and blatantly disrespected him.
When the door slid open and Iizuka stepped into the room, Katsura's back was turned. He didn't want to look at him. He didn't trust himself to look at him.
"Katsura-san, this came in for you the other day."
Forced to turn, he met the carefree smile of the examiner who was holding out a letter.
"It's for Shousha," he said shrugging, "and I took the liberty of- Katsura-san?"
Iizuka looked at his leader curiously. He was staring at the missive, but making no attempt to reach for it. His eyes were far away, remembering Shousha's words.
Do you have my letter?
How long had Iizuka had it? And why hadn't he given it to him sooner?
Shaking himself from his thoughts, Katsura pulled the parchment from the other's fingers.
"Do not take liberties with my wife's things," he said coldly.
Iizuka cleared his throat and both men sat.
Katsura read the note, unsurprised by its contents, and tucked it away without a word about it.
"From what I hear, Iizuka, you have been taking liberties with more than her letters."
The way his eyes widened in surprise did not go unnoticed by Katsura, nor did the change in his energy, now heightened, elevated, and slightly panicked.
He had underestimated her, it seemed. The little bitch had come crawling out of her hole and confided in her husband after all. He had thought he could frighten her into silence. She was small, helpless, and determined to resist all of life's changes. Surely her hatred of Katsura would have kept her mouth shut. As it seemed, however, she was not stupid. She had considered her options, and decided that her husband's brute strength and status would outweigh any of his sneak attacks.
He would have to talk his way out of this.
"Katsura-san," he began, laughing, "you can't believe a word the chit says. We all know where she comes from."
But Katsura was not laughing. His mouth remained in a straight line, neither smiling nor unsmiling, and his eyes were completely neutral, encouraging Iizuka to state his case, but knowing exactly where he would slip up.
"Besides," he continued, waving, "she'll do most anything to get a rise out of us."
"And how is it that she managed to get a rise out of you?"
Iizuka's grin faltered. "like I said, you can't trust her-"
His words were cut short as with one swift, emotionless stroke, Katsura brought the sheath of his katana across the examiner's face. It wouldn't leave much more than a bruise, a twin to the one on Shousha's jaw.
"I saw the marks you left on her body," he said lowly, watching as Iizuka clutched his own chin, "and I would like to know what drove you to make them. She is a married woman. To disrespect her is to disrespect me. Surely you considered this."
Despite the punishment he was in the midst of receiving, Iizuka felt a surge of triumph. He had been very careful not to leave any sign of his intrusion, save the loss of virginal evidence. Shousha had not breathed a word of what he had done to her.
"My apologizes, Katsura-san," he said with a practiced sincerity, "she sought out another one of the Shinsengumi's bitches."
"She was speaking with a friend," Katsura corrected, his tone neutral once again. His unpredictability was enough to drive a man mad. "She was causing no harm."
"Is that what she told you?" Iizuka sneered in reply, "and you believed her?"
This earned him another strike with the sheathed sword. Eating would prove to be difficult for the next few days.
Calmly returning the weapon to his side, Katsura addressed the man before him bitterly.
"If you ever so much as look at her again, I will have your head."
"I understand," Iizuka replied, bowing in penance, "my actions were wrong and I do not deserve your mercy."
"No, you don't," Katsura murmured in agreement, taking Iizkua's hand in his own. Iizuka looked up curiously, and with his eyes closed as if in meditation, Katsura's fist closed and he tilted their hands back slightly. At first, it appeared to be nothing, but when his eyes opened and his gaze bore into Iizuka's threateningly, his grip tightened.
Crack!
The bones in Iizuka's fingers shattered in Katsura's fist and his knuckled popped in protest. Letting out a sharp cry, the examiner tried to pull free, but his leader's hold was far too strong. Pain shot through his body and when Katsura released him he stared at his left hand, mangled to an unrecognizable state.
"See a doctor," Katsura told him simply, "it will heal."
Trembling, Iizuka cradled his hand.
Satisfied with the punishment, Katsura gripped his sword, standing.
"You are growing soft," Iizuka hissed, watching as blood dripped from his broken fingers and onto the tatami, "for her."
"Be thankful that you are of use to me," he replied, back to the examiner, and one hand on the doorframe, "next time I will not be so merciful."
The sun was setting now and with a heavy sigh, Katsura headed upstairs. The day had not gone as he had planned and he was looking forward to dinner. Ikumatsu would be coming by tonight. She always managed to lift his spirits.
Sliding open the door to his room, he saw Shousha sitting in the corner, reading a book. Her hair was dripping slightly, still wet from the bath she had taken, and she was already dressed for bed. When she looked up at him, there was no hateful glare, or empty stare. Instead, the corner of her mouth turned up a fraction of an inch.
"Good evening," she said quietly.
He sighed again, doing his best to return the gesture, but she caught the irritation in his eyes and she put down her book, hugging her knees to her chest.
"I'm sorry."
He looked over to her. "Whatever for?"
She bit her lip. "I didn't realize how badly my request would upset your mood. I didn't intend to make you angry, I just... I was frightened."
Softening his features, Katsura managed to give her a smile. "I am glad you told me," he replied, "there is no need for you to suffer in silence."
She looked downcast for a moment and he added, "the disappointment I feel will fade."
She picked up her book and again they were caught in silence. The sun cast a salmon glow over the entire room, a welcoming vision of spring at its peak. Summer would be upon them soon and perhaps they would take a trip to his hometown of Hagi. It was a beautiful city. She might enjoy it.
Clearing his throat, he stood before her awkwardly. "Shousha."
She looked up from her book and he knelt before her, keeping enough distance between them for her not to feel threatened.
"I want to be a good husband to you," he told her, "We both love another, but I don't see why we can not still keep a happy union. I do not want you to be unhappy. I do not want to see your tears any longer. I want you to accept me for who I am, and in turn I will give you whatever it is that you please."
Color rose up in her cheeks then, not from embarrassment or flirtation, but appreciation.
"I do not want to fight with you anymore," he said, "I do not have the time to argue, or calm you down. And you..." he paused, reaching into his kimono and presenting her with her letter, "...do not have the time either."
Eyes wide, Shousha looked up at him, silently seeking his permission. When he nudged it forward, she took it tenderly and opening it, found herself met with Okita's perfect calligraphy.
My dearest Shou-chan,
I pray this letter finds you well and that you do not hold me in ill regard. No, that thought is selfish. The only thing I can hope for is your happiness. If you would, for my sake, find one reason each day to smile, I know I will be able to find peace in our distance. Do not weep for me, but celebrate your new journey.
When you feel homesick, remember the sunset. You will find me there.
I love you.
With trembling hands, Shousha folded the letter and tucked it away beneath the scarf he had wrapped her in the night of her wedding. She wouldn't be able to respond. Katsura wouldn't allow it, but she understood why. This one letter would be hers to treasure forever.
"What can I do for you?" Katsura's voice was as gentle as ever. "How can I bring you happiness?"
With a glance towards the setting sun, Shousha stood. She hurried past him, but returned in a moment, holding out her hairbrush. When he took it with a curious look, she knelt with her back to him and her eyes set straight ahead at the sky.
"Brush my hair," she commanded, "you must do this every night at sunset."
"I can do that," he whispered.
Taking a small and calming breath, she focused on the image framed by their open window.
Gathering her inky locks into one of his large hands, Katsura put the brush to her head, dragging it down slowly to the ends. Still damp, it smelled of strawberries and he smiled.
"It's strange," she said after a while, "us sitting here like this."
"Why's that?" he mused, keeping with the slow, almost melodic rhythm he had created with the brush.
"Two enemies sitting so peacefully together as husband and wife."
"We aren't enemies, Shousha," he said with a small chuckle, "we are simply two human beings who do not understand each other. It's only natural that because of that misunderstanding that we would be at odds."
She let out a short breath of air as his fingers brushed her neck. "and what is it that I don't understand about you?"
"What do you understand about me?" he countered gently.
She thought for a moment before admitting defeat. "I thought you would be more ruthless. Cruel and uncaring. I don't know why you want to care for me."
He paused. "That answer is simple."
She turned to him, brown eyes wide and curious and he returned her gaze with a smile, using his knuckles to brush aside the bangs that covered half of her face.
"I never intended for you to feel pain."
When her brows furrowed in question, he lowered his eyes and encouraged her to turn back around in order for him to continuing to tend to her.
"Will it cause you pain to hear the truth?" he asked. He had avoided explaining any of his actions to her because she was violent and biased. She wouldn't be able to see how desperate he had been, what sort of good his intentions had been, in their own distorted ways.
Now however, she had reached her limit. She had broken, and all of the shards of her were sitting in the palms of his hands, waiting for him to piece her back together. It wouldn't be easy, but he would try.
"No," she replied firmly, "I want to know. I've always wanted to know."
"The decision I made to end your life was not an easy one," he began, "and it is a choice that I regret."
She was biting her lip. He could see her struggling to keep her composure.
"I did not want to marry you, that much remains true. I had found a love of my own, but mainly I wanted to avoid this."
"This?" she asked, "what is this?"
Katsura smoothed out her hair. "This," he repeated, "our makeshift marriage. I know you, Shousha. I knew your position in the Shinsengumi as well as your place in Okita's heart. Likewise, I knew exactly how important they were to you. Additionally, we both know that you are reckless, spoiled, and irrational. I knew that forcing you into marriage would bring chaos to me, and nothing but sorrow for you."
"So you contracted to have me killed."
"I am not perfect," he told her, "and I admit that my reasoning at the time was questionable at best. I thought that if you were dead, I could go about my business of bringing forth a new era. You would have died for that cause. It was that thought that kept me at peace with myself."
"That's horrible," she whispered, voice shaking, "I don't know what is worse; that you thought to put me out of my misery, or that you would force me to die for something I don't believe in."
The truth of her words, and his actions, stung him for the first time.
"I had intended for Himura to carry out the deed. He refused, unwilling to spill the blood of an innocent."
Furrowing his brows, Katsura pulled all of her hair towards him, separating the strands into three equal parts.
"I should have followed his example. I should have called off the mission entirely. I never imagined that the man I hired would be so sadistic.
"Himura would have killed you in less than one second. You would have felt nothing. Makoto, as it seems, takes his time. He enjoys it."
As the memory came forth, Shousha shuddered. "I know."
"That's not what I planned and not what I had wanted. I was foolish to make the assumption that he worked in a similar manner to Himura and failed to instruct him to be through with you quickly."
As haunting as it should have been, Shousha wasn't disturbed by his dissection of the death sentence he had issued to her. It made perfect sense to her. Katsura was not like her. He was a man. He was a man who held a significant seat of power and with that power came the loss of any personal feelings. He had no choice but to act for the benefit of his revolution.
To do what is abhorrent in order to better serve the people.
"Kogoro?"
The soft tone of her voice surprised him and he begged her question with a small 'hm'.
"If I were to ask you to end my life right now, would you do it?"
"No," he replied softly.
"Why not?"
Reaching to his left, his fingers closed around her ribbon and he rightened himself, tying off the braid he had fashioned.
"Because even now I doubt you would die."
Satisfied with his answer, Shousha stretched her arms forward, framing the fading sun with her fingers and for the first time, letting a genuine smile grace her features.
"I can't die," she told him, "No. I won't die. Not until I am able to see Soushi again."
"I believe that," he replied, standing.
And he did. If there was one thing he truly believed above all else, it was that.
xxxx
Author's Note: I know that was like, crazy long, but the three main points (the request, the punishment, and the truce) were all too connected and closely related for me to break them up in between Shinsengumi scenes.
