Disclaimer: I don't own any of the FFVII characters, places, etc.
A/N: What is it with crazy women?
Chapter 52: Sordid Affair
Miho laid a long finger on her chin, and contemplated her husband in the garden. He had not rested since she had sent their children off to Taromaru and slain Aiko. He was back only briefly as a slight reprieve, recovering after an ugly run in with some of Taromaru's men as he attempted to help his sister, Yuffie. It was quaint how close brother and sister were. Miho had long ago done away with her blood competition for the throne.
The dagger in Miho's sleeve was easy to remove, and she approached Shunji silently. He sat with a bare chest under the moonlight, the deep scars in his back throwing shadows against the topography of his muscles. His head was bowed, and his one remaining arm rested on one knee. He didn't look up at her approach, either because he didn't realize she was there, or he was too accustomed to her surprise visits. As a younger woman, Miho had enjoyed catching him off guard, and he still enjoyed such tricks.
"Miho," he said. She continued moving forward, slowly raising the blade.
"Yes?" she asked.
"I'm sorry," he stated, and Miho paused. She recognized the tone in his voice. It meant he'd been thinking long and hard about something. "If I had paid better attention to you and the children, perhaps this would not have happened."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Miho chided, amused.
"Perhaps if I wasn't so keen to father Yuffie, Taromaru would have left our family in peace…my poor Aiko…" she saw his back muscles tense up. He had never questioned her story, and had held her for a long time. Miho hadn't felt so close to him since the early years of their marriage, when they were both still goofy children.
"It's not your fault," she paused in her approach, tilting her head. Life with him hadn't been bad, but rather enjoyable. He loved their children, and was playful and attuned to her needs. He really had never left her needing or wanting for anything, not even physical or emotional love. He was sure to be home as often as possible, even though he spent so much time with Yuffie. Miho had no complaints. "It's not your fault, Shuya. None of this is." It's not your fault you were born a Kisaragi, she added silently. A brief stab of mourning shot through her.
She allayed it when she examined his back, and saw the deep gouges that had come from his dedication to his sister. As a boy, before Miho had met him, he had placed himself between Yuffie and a pack of wolves, allowing them to gouge and tear him to pieces. Shuya was eight at the time and Yuffie was six. It had been one of the older siblings who scared off the wolves. Miho couldn't remember which. But Shuya had never hesitated to place himself between Yuffie and harm, not even after that ruinous incident.
Yes, Shuya had to go. All the Kisaragis did.
Miho advanced, raised the knife, and plunged it down. Shuya was turning to look at her, and the shift sent the dagger through his shoulder. Miho and Shuya's eyes locked, and she froze. He looked at her as his face crumbled in despair, tears overflowing from his eyes. He turned around fully, and Miho released the blade. They stared at each other on their knees, ribbons of dark red slipping down his chest. Miho's eyes widened, and she followed one stream down his ribs, until it vanished beneath the belt of his pants.
Shuya's rough hand placed itself on her cheek, and she looked up at him nervously. She couldn't bear to look into his eyes, and looked away. This would be harder then she had thought…she should have killed him earlier, when it would be easier.
"Why?" he whispered. Miho glanced back up at him, and then lifted her hands and put them on his soaked face.
"Because, you're a Kisaragi. Our two families can't exist in the same place," she replied. Shuya closed his eyes, and bit back an audible sob.
"Did you ever care for me? For our children?"
"It doesn't matter," she reached around him and pulled the knife out of his shoulder. He hissed, and she pressed the tip down onto his chest. He looked at her pleadingly, and her muscles jerked to slide the knife into his heart.
Shuya was across the yard in an instant, clenching his fist and staring at the ground. He looked back at her, anger on his face.
"Was it you that killed her?"
"Of course," she replied, shifting the knife in her hand. She stood up, and prepared to face him. He was bleeding badly, but Miho knew better then to assume it would slow him down at all. He was a spectacular ninja, a man she had lauded again and again for his ferociousness in battle.
"Because she was a Kisaragi?"
"I'd never kill anyone so sweet tempered otherwise," she promised. Shuya's muscles wound tighter. Miho moved quickly, streaking across the lawn to kill him. Her execution was cut short as his fingers wrapped around her wrist in an iron vice. She felt the bones in her slender arm grating together, and struggled to free herself. Shuya wouldn't let go. He gave a twist and the knife came out of her hand. She problem solved and slammed her knee into his ribs. His grip didn't falter, only tightened, so she struck him again.
Shuya played copycat and landed a crushing blow against her side with his knee. She wheezed, and doubled over. Shuya twisted her arm further, and she arched her back up towards him. Miho had underestimated him, and she grit her teeth. Fire sparked in her, and she slammed her fist into his guts.
They grappled a moment, each one struggling for supremacy, until Miho managed to get the knife back and pound it a second time into the same shoulder. He grimaced and dropped onto his knees.
"You really want us dead?" He demanded, glaring up at her. She nodded, unable to prevent herself from admiring that determination in his eyes. He was on his feet again and before Miho could stop him, the wakizashi at his side had slid in between one of her ribs. He gave it a painful twist, pinning her against him. She wheezed.
"Harder to kill you," she gave him a wry smile. He jerked the knife, and she hissed. Pursing her lips, she whistled. Shuya's eyes snapped up, and she wrenched the knife in his shoulder free. He dropped her before she could make the third stab, and he took off before the approaching guards could capture him.
Miho dropped to her knees, and felt behind her for the knife. She winced, and left it in place.
"My lady," her lieutenant took her shoulders.
"Patch me up. I need to get to Taromaru's place tonight," she instructed. "There's a bit of cleaning yet to be done."
"Should we send someone after him?"
"Leave him…I'll finish up with him in due time."
