Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss. Koy-chan does. ^^' Please don't sue me.

This chapter: Picks up from where the first chapter of Ken left off. From his POV. Hope you enjoy and if you have any opinions, please review with them! Thank you!

Dedications: This, as always, is dedicated to my girlfriend Akiko. Go read her stuff, it's good. AkikoYuy. *Nods* For you, zutto, eien, I hand you my heart. *Bows* I'm so poetic. Heh.




I awake and stretch, the night's events slowly dawning on me. I smile and lie back on the bed, hugging my pillow to me. It smells of his scent. My eyes crack open and I notice he's not there. I stand and make my way downstairs, yawning and ruffling my messed hair. I find someone in the kitchen, but it is not him. It is Bombay, who is cooking happily. I ask him about the cause of his mood, and he just flits me a smile and hums a tune. I sigh and ask him the whereabouts of my love. His happy facade falters for an instant, and he sits down beside me at the kitchen table. His hand slips forward and he rests his chin lightly on the back of it. He says something about Balinese walking out in the middle of the night and my love following. I cringe. Those memories also flood into my mind and my body begins to shake. I excuse myself quickly, making my way to the warm shower. I strip of my clothing and step into the hot, pounding liquid that tore at my body. I relaxed and leaned against the newly cleaned white tile of the shower, thinking. My eyelids slip over aqua colored eyes as my mouth parts, slowly letting out a cry. For the first time since he raped me, I cry.
I slide to the floor and wrap my arms about myself, hugging my body tight. I remember his kind tone as he whispered to me his love to me, and how I felt so loved as he held me. Why wasn't he there now? Where had he gone? Had he really gone after Balinese? He should hate him. He should hate him for what he did... shouldn't he? My mind can't take it anymore and I give up trying to think. In place, I sit there and let the water stream over my body, my eyes closed. Soon I hear a sharp knock on the door and my body jumps. The water has turned icy cold and the window shows that it is much later than should have been. Night late. I quickly turn off the water and wrap a towel around my waist with crimpled fingers. I open the door and there he stands, tall and stern. His dress is that of his assassin wear, and his hands are bloodied. I blink and open my mouth the question, but he only pushes me aside and slams the door in my face.
I feel tears at my eyes and quickly stride to my room. There I dress in soft warm pajamas and lie in bed, waiting for the sound of his footsteps. Within minutes, I hear him stride by. I quickly stand and follow him. He's pulling a book from his night stand as I reach his door, and he looks up at me, his normal cold façade staring me in the eye. I feel my heart sink, but continue any ways. I ask him where he's been, and he only shrugs, saying it was a simple mission he was sent on. I nod and ask if he knows where Balinese has gone. His face darkens and he grunts something about getting a nice fuck tonight. I blush and step towards him. I ask him about last night. The room falls silent and I can hear my rapid heartbeat. After what seems like hours, I speak again. I ask him if he really meant what he said to me. He leans his head against the wall and sighs. He tells me it was a moment of vulnerability that he couldn't avoid. He tells me that he can't love or be loved, because he has killed and shed blood. The same lines he fed Sakura. I cringe and turn away, my heart shattering. Quietly I whisper my reply. I have killed too, I tell him. I try to make him realize that we've both sinned, that we both have faults.
I yell at him that he CAN love. He CAN be loved. And he is. Because I love him. And I tell him this. I tell him I love him and can't ever let him go. I tell him about all those times Balinese was fucking me and I imagined it was his body making love to me instead. I see him flinch and I step back. I tell him I'll love him no matter what, and that he can't help that. At this he turns to me, glaring. In his low, cold voice he tells me to get out. Simply that. I stop breathing and everything around me goes still. In an instant it's broken as he turns back to his book. Hurt, I turn away and make my way to my room. There I slip under the covers and slip into sleep, too hurt to cry.