da Fading Dreams:

~Yumi's POV~

Underneath the glittering stars gentle and soothing night breezes wrap about me. My heart grows content as my Lord Shishio's arms draw me ever closer to his warmth. His lips continue to lovingly caress mine, sending my very soul en route to Nirvana and beyond.

"Yumi," he whispers huskily into my ear, sending shivers down my spine, "I shall fulfill your desires tonight, to ease your troubled soul." I am drawn in so completely. I melt soundlessly into his warmth; my love for him has not lost its depth through the years I have been his nurse and confidant in the dark whispers of our nights as one.

Suddenly, he withdraws his warmth to all regions of me but my hand, which he clasps within his own hand. I search his eyes hopefully and find what I seek. The loving desires smoldering within him.

Shishio leads me into our shared room and as if the wind was his own to command the oil lamp's light is extinguished, but the door that lead to the balcony do not close. They remain open, letting the pearly gleam shining off the moon illuminate Shishio and I, the eternal lovers, in one of the greatest moments of tenderness I feel I shall ever know.

Just beyond the futon we stand, Shishio's hand gingerly caresses my thin, swan-like neck. My blood warms and my yearning for him increases. Shishio's acute manslayer senses detect this jubilant frustration and a giddy grin makes his face look ever more charming to me.

Shishio's hand travels up my neck and begins to loosen the blue beads that bind my often-unruly hair. A look of agitation marks his face as he finds difficulty in loosening the beads within my hair. To ease this growing anger my hand reaches his within my hair and I playfully assist Shishio in freeing my bound hair.

The beads are loosened, and my hair gracefully falls onto my slender shoulders. Indulgently, Shishio, with his gloves off, begins run his hand through my soft tresses. A soft rhythm now plays hypnotically in my mind and all I see is my beloved Shishio, and all I feel is his massaging hand dance upon my scalp. My breath grows ragged and I feel as if I am loosing control of my pent up desire.

With great urgency, for my own sake, and his as well, my hand seeks his, freeing it from my hair. I look into his eyes, they are still as playful as schoolboys, but I know my own are widened with incomprehensible desire. Unconsciously I massage his hand as he did my head. The boyish grin disappears with emphasis of my soft but insistent hands, and he obtains a lustful look. A desirously serious look softens Shishio's eyes; his violent side disarms to reveal an entirely different side of him.

Very suddenly he pulls me close to him. I blush as I find myself caught in an impenetrable trap against his firm chest. I look up and meet Shishio's glare, and as happens to all men the beast within him takes over and with the assistance of his hand my silk yukata tumbles off my shoulders, shimmering in the pearly gleam of the moon, as it rests around my feet.

Shishio again engages me in a passionate kiss, and whispers into the side of my mouth, only for me to hear,

"Tonight, my love is all thrown aside. I give myself to you fully and without interruption. This blessed night is for you my love."

I tremble at his huskily whispered line, but with my experience as a consort ensures I will control his desire with my tender touch. For those fifteen minutes he is limited to apply to more than just swordsmanship.

Long ago our fifteen minutes were spent, and now Shishio and I stare at each other in the gleam of the moonlight. I am nuzzled like a kitten against his chest, as his hand caress' my back. To both my displeasure and ease, his body relaxes, and his hand falls from my back. Shishio's arm hangs loosely around my small frame. Night has long been settled, and the stars have all become unveiled, but still rest does not come.

However, the slowly approaching dawn begins to rise. First beginning, in the tender stages of soft purples. My wearied eyes to begin to close as the gentle smell of Shishio's warm breath, deep in sleep, caress' my face, the soft feel of his bandages rub gently against my bare skin and warms my small body. My incense and blanket, his caressing breathes and bandages. My lullaby, the deep purr of his sleep, and slowly my eyelids droop.

~~Kyoto, 1869~~

I tread softly, and lady-like, through the ornate oak doors of the teahouse where both man and boy sat on the tatami mat. The man, Shishio Makoto, was draped in bandages of linen; they only failed to reach his mouth, and his fiery, piercing eyes. Shishio-san was owner to a most intimidating aura; one I feared would overtake me if I dare gaze into his poignant red eyes. Soujiro was quite the opposite, a small boy who lived among this world scarcely more than eight years, wore upon his face a smile. An endless, unflinching smile but he made this oddity appear so natural. Though, there was something more to this young boy, something more than the blithely grinning face that was Soujiro.

My red silk kimono swishing, like wind in trees' boughs, concealed my trembling legs, the only sign of my growing fear that erupted from my very soul, the only sign of my growing fear that erupted from my very soul. My motions were now only those of my trade, in truth Shishio, a fugitive of the Meji government was like no one I had met. A crisp air of confidence veiled him as if it were a robe; his movements were sure and powerful, and his deep crimson eyes were the center of his soul, of his being. No one that I had ever seen commanded such attention, or such power from his person.

Despite my fear that drowned me slowly from within, I held my head high, and I began the task thrust upon me. With a gentle smile gracing my lips, I seated myself across from Shishio and Soujiro and in spite of myself, I hoped my mask would hold strongly to my face. I hoped neither the man nor the boy could see fearful soul of mine glistening from within my sensuous eyes of my Noh mask.

A smirk spread slowly across the face of Shishio-san and his eyes shone with a gleam of amusement.

"Woman, tell me, what is your name? For it would be impolite to call you by a title less fine." I nearly fell faint at that moment; he showed kindness towards me, a man of such honor and power showed me, a simple consort, kindness. Swallowing my dread, I spoke slowly.

"Watashi no namae wa Komagata Yumi desu." Shishio-san's chin tilted upward. He seemed surprised that my voice did not quake, or my smile break. He then looked at me differently, like I had been placed into a new light, a light of growing admiration.

A sudden burst of fear spread throughout me, it struck me upon his changed demeanor, which was no longer condescending. Though this was not fear I had felt at first glance, it was the fear that had coursed through my veins when Damasu-sama had taken from me my innocence. My trust in Damasu-sama had made this possible, was I to trust this stranger, but find underneath the clean cloth wrappings that covered his burnt skin. And a soul of greed, questing for power alone, a soul and heart of stone.

It was my duty to make sure my guest knew no dull moments, no matter how much I feared the guest. Madame-san had always taught me an awkward silence such as this is never acceptable. I, very distinctly, remembered her voice, as she told me when I was young and still very naïve,

"Silence means you aren't doing your duty, Yumi-chan. To be a consort or a Geisha, not only the art you perform matters, but the way you converse is most important." I drew in a breath, waking myself from my pleasing reverie and asked my guest, sitting across from me,

"Shishio-san, from where do you come?" I asked, as I began to pour more cha in his emptied cup. Shishio-san looked at me and said harshly,

"Your concern for me is appreciated though it is wasted." There was softness to his voice, though a hard mask that could not be removed, concealed it.

I could see wrought into his flaming eyes I had grown yet again in his sight, but I remained wary and uncertain. Kind men have betrayed me before and though this came with no supposedly warm smile, I still pondered the contents within Shishio-san.

I winced as I allowed my tongue to fall idle and another minute of my duty was spent in awkward silence. Yet, all was not lost as Soujiro's eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"Yumi-san," said he, in an attempt to end the misplaced pause ", is this what a consort does, or is there more?" I gave Soujiro a graceful smile. The young boy must have lived a sheltered life, for his mind did not contain knowledge of such a simple aspect.

"Hai, this is only part of my duty as a consort. For the duty of a consort is to please those she means to serve."

The young boy's mouth stretched into a weary yawn, as he nodded, at least partially understanding my statement and duty.

"Shishio-san, I am very tired," Soujiro suddenly said, catching even Shishio off guard, but he nodded to the boy and presumably allowed him to rest. I led him to a futon, resting in the corner, as I tread over the floorboards, my red silk kimono swished silently. I told the boy kindly, and almost mother like,

"Soujiro-chan, you may use this futon to rest on if you would like."

"Doumo arigatou gozaimasu, Yumi-san. Shishio-san, oyasumi nasai " Soujiro said, rubbing his eyes. Soujiro crawled into the woolen covers. As moments passed, the slowing of his breathing announced sleep had come to him.

Though time wore on, Shishio and I remained in a stifling silence, as we watched the slumbering boy. I cast a glance at Shishio, and noticed his bandages were falling loose from his very muscular frame. Regardless of the condition in his skin, he had chosen to remain active, and kept up a muscular and handsome frame. A sudden thought swept through my mind, and in the stillness I inquired,

"Shishio-san, is Soujiro your son?" Amusement flickered in Shishio's fiery eyes as he showed me his true smile.

"Soujiro is not my son," he began, as he met my eyes, and said with an abundant amount of pride, "I met him when he was sheltered and abused by his family but I taught the boy to survive on his own accord." A hollow chuckle emitted from Shishio's throat, as he glanced to the sleeping boy.

I glanced thoughtfully at my hands and then returned my gaze to Shishio, whose power still frightened my soul.

"Shishio-san," she said breathing deeply, " do you have any children?" Laughing once more, he said to me,

"Iie, I have not had relations in many years." Shishio saw my face fill with a fresh and new fear, a fear of relations with him, and he said, hoping to ease my growing fear, and perhaps clarify his own intentions, "And I do not wish these relations to begin anytime soon."

I looked deeply into his eyes and they glowed like burning embers in the still darkness of the teahouse room. He was a being of power, in his eyes the fear of men was inspired, and with the slightest glare, he could lead a strong force to victory, or condemn them to death. At that moment he became my greatest fear.

Shishio slightly inclined his chin and narrowed his flaming eyes into my own. But he did not stare in anger; he looked at me with a soft scolding look. In that moment it came to me, I had been staring at Shishio-san, my honored and paying guest. I lowered my eyes to the floorboards once more in shame.

Grasping for words, for a thing to hold up my honor and duty as a geisha, I quickly spoke to the man before me.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Shishio-san, or perhaps sake?" A light of amusement flickered softly within his eyes.

"Today, I prefer tea." He said very simply.

"Hai, Shishio-san." I said professionally as I poured the tea into his empty cup.

Suddenly, a pause, wide and pregnant, clouded the night's air whose berth was wide, and it smothered all in its path. It was then, that I set my eyes upward, but they were not alone in their path, for Shishio-san's fiery eyes met them. No longer fearing, but seeking I continued to silently gaze into his eyes, watching the fire that refused to dim. I understood in a moment's beating heart: hidden from the light was something deeper than I could have ever imagined it to be.

Soujiro's soft mumbling voice called silently,

"Nee, Shishio-sama? Can Yumi-san be my Okaasan?" The remarkably innocent question resounded loudly through the darkened room and my mind. Was it possible? Was I blushing?

In my surprise and worry, my heart began to a race, and I spilled the tea! The warm, burning liquid inspired vile resentment within me, for I, a consort did not spill tea. My cheeks feigned a slight pink, though, in the room's darkness, any normal man could not see it, but Shishio-san was different, could he, with his acute senses read my burning face?

A veil of amusement was cast about me, and in shame, I set my brilliant eyes upon my knees. I observed the perfection in the pleats of my red kimono and took a corner in between my fingers, rubbing it slightly. The cloth's silky feel brought reassurance to me, reminding me of my proud honor as a being of the heavenly willow world.

I glanced upward, to Shishio-san and his satisfaction was apparent to me. Though there was something more to his face than mere contentment I saw curiosity's burning flame dancing within his eyes.

"Is a consort supposed to blush?" Shishio-san asked me with a teasing not in his voice, but I could tell when I saw the fire dance in his eyes he was enjoying my vulnerable moment. The intensity of my blush increased, and I tried to tear my eyes from his gaze, but the power of his being held my eyes captive.

I did not answer Shishio-san I could not find the voice to reply. Humorously, he stated,

"I'll take that as no." I lowered my eyes, and grew further in my shame and humiliation. A client of mine noticed my feminine shortcomings and failure to truly ascend in the willow world. Shishio-san's acute manslayer senses noticed this and very surprisingly purred,

"Do not worry, Yumi-san. I will not report this to your superiors or deduct it from your pay." And Shishio-san's gloved hand very suddenly caressed my blushing cheek; I nearly swooned from the action. How I had grown in his sight!

A curious urge struck me, as I grabbed Shishio-san's hand that lay upon my cheek. Delicately, I took his larger hand within my own, and removed the glove that covered it. No longer in fear, I was compelled as I gently massaged the hand to feel the bandages alone! How awful it must be to feel not the softness of smooth skin!

Yet, Shishio-sama withdrew his hand from mine, his eyes were opened wide in shock. Word proved useless in conveying what had just occurred, but my eyes spoke for me as did his. Through the silent language of eyes, we came to an accord. I reclaimed his hand, and removed the other glove. Shishio, with his free hand placed it upon my cheek. For a moment in time, we sat in this tender moment, before Shishio's hand moved from its place on my cheek, and around the back of my neck as he cradled my head. Drawing closer we finally shattered the distance and barriers between us in an understanding kiss.

---You are no longer violating Yumi's brain---

I waken and the birds beyond the open window twitter meaninglessly. Shivering, I lift my heavy eyelids and seek Shishio-sama, but I find that his warmth has left me. He stands on the balcony deep in thought.

I feign sleep, but I am not quick enough for Shishio says,

"You are finally awake." Smiling gently, I nod to Shishio and rise from the futon.

"Are you prepared for this day, Yumi?" Shishio asks me as I approach him, yawning.

"Hai," I reply, and then turn the question, asking,

"But are you, Shishio-sama?" A sly smile is all the response that I received from him. It was then, I knew whatever occurred this day, and Shishio and I will always be together. In life or death, I will always love him.

The end!

Yes, its over.... WHOOAH! Review please