The Devil's Workshop
MysticShadowWanderer
Disclaimer: Ever met anyone who's style of driving a car/truck is sexy? Weird, ain't it? ^_^
*****
Chapter Twenty Three: Decadence Of Sickness
Kaoru tossed and turned throughout the night, keeping Battousai awake. He propped himself up on one elbow and lifted his head to watch her, crimson hair spilling over his shoulder to brush at her nose. She shifted and swiped her hand past her face fleetingly and sank back into the mattress with a quiet groan. Battousai wondered what she was dreaming of that troubled her so much while he softly ran his fingers through her hair, frowning; it was probably him. He breathed a quiet sigh through his nose and dropped his eyes closed as he leaned over to kiss her forehead gently. Lying back down, he tugged her into his arms and held her body close to his, burying his face in the silken comfort of her hair. What he wouldn't give to take all her bad dreams and make them his own.
Dreams were the bane of Battousai's existence, for they proved what was too real for him to attain, or what was too beautiful for him to express. In one manner of thinking, he realized that what he saw wasn't reality for him, and everything he saw that played behind the shade of his eyelids was nothing but a petty illusion, but then he had to wake in the morning. Waking meant the cessation of dreams, and those few moments of utter terror when he didn't know what was real and what was a dream; to him, at least for now, dreaming and waking were part of a hellish experience that he forced himself to undergo nightly. Sometimes he wished he could sleep forever; more often than not he wished he would simply fade out of existence and let the world forget that he ever walked upon its lands. It would make things so much easier. Kaoru's weight in his arms was all that kept him hanging on to the narrow thread that tie him down to sanity.
Even in her unconscious state, when Battousai's warmth sank into her being, Kaoru felt instantly comforted by his safe presence. Whenever he was around her, she knew she would be protected, whether from a sword-wielding enemy or the pain of her own tangled emotions. Her dreams, while still being disturbing, ceased to be so important as the strength and unexpressed love she could feel from Battousai. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that she was too involved to back out now, her need for Battousai ran too deeply and was too entangled in her every fiber of being to allow her to ever leave him; the thought was slightly frightening, and was enough to draw her from her sleep, albeit slowly.
Kaoru moved restlessly, rolling on her side to look at Battousai. Unsurprised to find her still sleep-laden gaze met by warm amber, she reached out a hand to slowly stroke his scarred cheek. He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to her hand with a contented sigh, causing a faint smile to grace her face.
"What's wrong, sweetling?" came the quiet rumble.
"Nothing," was her whispered reply. "Nothing..."
The press of her hand against his face slipped lower; she ran her palm across his chest and his eyes opened slowly, as if he were drugged. For the slightest fraction of a second, he wondered if any of this was real, and if he truly owned this woman that he held in his arms. Not for the first time, his thoughts lingered on death, perhaps it was best to kill her and then himself, to be forever embraced by the slow, cold sleep of infinite silence. Shaking himself mentally, he ignored the urge and pulled Kaoru to him, closing the distance between their bodies.
Kaoru's eyes slid shut under the fierce domination of Battousai's mouth as he kissed her insistently. Something about the way he clung to her brought to the surface of her mind just how insane this man's need for her was. And she would do anything to comfort him what little she could, though in the end it always seemed futile.
***
Kaoru woke late in the day, feeling tired but satisfied. Though she would be the first one to admit that some of the things she and Battousai had done were depraved, she couldn't deny the fact that she was his to do with what he would. Battousai himself was not in the room when she sat up to look for him, pulling her yukata back on, and for a few moments she questioned herself as to where he could be.
The inquiry was answered soon enough when he stepped through the door bearing a tray with food and a murderous expression. Lifting an eyebrow, Kaoru watched him restrain himself enough to set the tray on a nearby table and then fly into a rage. Sitting with her back against the headboard of the bed, she observed in silence as Battousai took the legs off a chair with one slash of his katana, and proceeded to stalk the length of the room with infuriated steps. Only when he began to take out his anger on his own skin did she move to stop him; the last thing she wanted was for him to carelessly slice a vein when his actions were being guided by his fury.
Grabbing his bloodied wrist, she caused him to pause with his blade halfway up his arm. Before he could register her action, she tossed the object away and brought his forearm to her mouth. He blinked twice as she licked the wound clean, then shoved her away from him. Caught off guard, she fell to the floor awkwardly and sat glaring up at him. All in one wild motion, she stood, drew her arm back, and slapped him with all the force she could muster. This time he lost his balance and went down, looking utterly stunned, but he quickly reached up and caught her sleeve, pulling her down with him.
Kaoru found herself easily caught in the lazy strength of his arms; she was now straddling him. She didn't protest when he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her mouth down to his. When he pulled back, blood dripped from his lips onto his face, but he paid no attention to it. What he was focused on was Kaoru's face, which was looking slightly pale. In an action that entirely contradicted his previous temper, he lifted a hand to brush her hair away from her forehead and feel her skin for fever. She looked down at him with a strange expression, and meant to assure him of her well-being before she passed out.
Battousai cradled Kaoru's unconscious body against his chest and carefully eased himself up from the floor in order to place her in bed and pull the covers over her. A frown creased his face; she had seemed perhaps slightly feverish, but not overly so. What exactly had happened here? He felt like he was missing something, some important suggestion or shadow of a hint that would give him more insight as to what was going on with the woman lying before him. For the time, he passed it off as excessive paranoia but less-than-questionable intuition. It was more than likely that she just didn't handle the motion of a ship as well as he did, and he had pushed her too far the night before. He nodded to himself, both were logical explanations and when coupled as one, made it far too obvious what the problem was. There was really nothing he could do for her save letting her sleep and keeping a cold cloth on her head, both of which he was already doing.
***
With a groan, Kaoru pressed a hand to her forehead and sat up, bracing herself against the headboard. Looking to her side, she saw Battousai sitting cross-legged next to her, his head dropped forward as he sleep. As she moved, he stirred and lifted his gaze to sweep over her.
"You look like hell." He was so very kind about it, Kaoru decided with a glare.
Though on any other day she might have reprimanded him for the remark, which would inevitably lead to an argument, and where that would go was something only the gods knew, but it just didn't seem worth the effort at the time. Her head cried in agony as she slumped back down against the voluminous pillows Battousai had placed beneath her. It was entirely too difficult to keep her eyes open, but she struggled to do so as Battousai insisted that she eat at least something.
After Battousai fed her a few pieces of fish, she almost instantaneously fell asleep, dropping her weight onto the bed and closing her eyes heavily. Smoothing her hair out of her face, Battousai stretched out beside her, loosely flinging an arm over her as he laid on his stomach with his head resting on his other arm. He was no longer tired, but his muscles were protesting rather loudly through cramps that he needed to extend them in a more comfortable position, so he contented himself to watch her and make sure to attend to her comfort.
***
The days continued much in the same manner, Kaoru ate very little and Battousai's anxiety increased steadily day by day. Often she was so deeply asleep that her ki became faint; he assumed her dreams, steadily plunging into the dark realms of hellish phantasms, were of a nature that with dripping crimson fangs coaxed her to shroud her ki, and the reflexive action in her sleep was so strong that it was not only imagined but real. The experience was unnerving, because he frequently was unable to tell what she was feeling, and sometimes if she was even alive, which terrified him to an extent that nothing else had ever been able to accomplish. At times, he read something unrecognizable in her ki, for seconds at a time. The perception was faint, generally only a mere pulling at his senses, so he let it pass without questioning what it was, most likely it was nothing more than another product of her dreams.
Battousai spent his time lying next to Kaoru and holding her, mostly for his own comfort and sanity, or pacing the room, lost in thought. Reason told him that, eventually, she had to wake up, and that she was just sleeping off whatever illness or aversion to sea travel it was that she had. It was his greatest fear that she should never wake, and that she would traverse to a sphere which he could not follow her into. This woman was far too pure to join him in whichever hell he might be granted access to, and he dreaded that she should be taken from him for eternity once she was stripped of breath. He knelt by the bedside and took her hand in both of his, pressing it to his forehead as he closed he eyes and stumbled through what was his desperate attempt at a prayer. Usually he felt nothing but contempt for the gods, the calculative beings that forced him to sustain endless sorrows, but for Kaoru, he thought that perhaps he could pray.
***
Kaoru wandered through a field of grey flowers, alone and frightened. And cold, she was so very cold. Rubbing her arms briskly, she tried to see through the thick haze that hung in front of her vision, desperately searching for Battousai. If only she could find him, everything could be set right again. He would know how to save her. Too deeply lost in a broken vision, she could not find her way out. She tried to call out his name, but her voice caught in her throat. There was no one near her, or at least not that she could see. All that she could distinguish in the blur of grey on grey were the forbidding-looking trees that loomed ominously in every direction. Around her she could hear murmuring, thin, breathy voices that half-called to her and spoke wordless lies. She couldn't quite understand what they were saying to her, but they wouldn't cease their whispering. Pressing her hands to her ears, she couldn't block out the sound. A silent scream tore from her muted throat, and she began to run, to nowhere and anywhere.
The trees seemed to open their branches as she drew near, running as fast as she could into the black forest. Her flight was wild as she ran with all the speed she could possibly muster. Stopping only when she could no longer force her body to take another step, she stumbled to her knees and lay sobbing on the cold ground, tucked into a fetal position. She was lost and terrified, with no way of getting back to Battousai. The most of her problems was glaringly obvious to her. Not only did she have a single estimate as to her location, she couldn't remember where she had been before now. There was nothing in her mind, no home, no family, nothing but Battousai. All she was certain of was that she had to find him.
Time was nonexistent to Kaoru, she could have lain there on the grass and dirt that looked and smelled dead for two seconds or two thousand years; she really didn't know. But suddenly there was an unknown force coercing her to lift her head. With obscured vision, she gazed into the distance, caught sight of red hair. Within an instant, she was on her feet and nearly flying in the direction she'd seen the flash of crimson. He was there, in a clearing filled with gray sand and strategically-placed rocks, with his back to her. But something was different about this man; he was not the Battousai that Kaoru loved and, sometimes, knew. Once more she tried to speak, but again her voice refused to work. Slowly, he turned, staring right past her as if she weren't there. Kaoru took a few steps closer; no, this wasn't her Battousai, this man had no scar on his left cheek. Reaching out a hand, she tentatively touched the fabric of his gi, which was a vibrant red that stood out as much as his hair did in this world of grey and black. Looking into his eyes, she saw that they weren't amber, or even violet; they were almost the same shade as her own, but infused with a richer hue. Who was this man? He held himself with much of the same deadly poise that Battousai had, and he had swords hanging at his side, but he was not the same. There was no deep hatred and knowledge in his eyes, just simmering anger that was somewhat tamed by what appeared to be almost innocence. How could this be?
Kaoru stepped back to the edge of the clearing and dropped to the ground with a heavy thump. She still didn't know what to do, but she couldn't leave this place, not when there was someone else here, even if he didn't seem to be able to see her and she couldn't speak to him. At least he was a human form; it brought her a shaky sense of normality. There she sat, for how long it was impossible to know, until she heard near-silent footsteps. She watched in half-anticipation and half-dread as another figure stepped into what she'd decided was a training field; her breath caught in her throat. Battousai.
Had he come looking for her? She didn't think that was the case, for he didn't seem to see her, much like the other man that looked so akin to him. Just as she was about to stand and run to his side, he took up a stance that she instantly recognized as that of battoujutsu. She froze and the other man sank into a mirroring stance. Kaoru shook her head in confusion, trying to understand what was playing out before her eyes. Within moments, the two were locked in battle, making no sounds but the swishing displacement of air, the thudding of their feet, and the clash of connecting katana. What was going on here?
Kaoru couldn't follow the movements, she soon grew dizzy trying to watch them. Shutting her eyes, she waited anxiously until she heard nothing but the heavy breathing of one man. She cracked her eyes open and saw Battousai lying face down in the sand in a pool of his own blood, a gaping hole in his back where a katana had been shoved through and then yanked back out. The man who killed him simply stood back a ways, surveying his work in silence before turning and walking away. Kaoru ran to Battousai's lifeless body and threw herself over him, ignoring the blood that soaked the front of her kimono. She sobbed soundlessly, stroking Battousai's hair over and over, and eventually heaving him up and turning him so that she could cradle his head in her arms as her tears spilled down his face. She didn't understand anything, but she knew that her Battousai had been taken from her, and that she was alone and scared and wanted nothing more but to die.
*****
A/N: Wow. I have NO idea where the hell I pulled that out of... I really feel like my writing is getting worse as this is getting further along, mostly because I'm struggling to think of exactly where I want to go with it, so... yeah... sorry you got stuck with my crap. Anyone who thinks this is the last chapter, you're wrong. Give me cookies because you're wrong. This actually has relevance, which I'll consider being nice about and explaining later on in the story ^_^ Anyhow... yeah... whatever... I was listening to Plastic Tree's "Sick" and Dir en grey's "Masochist of Decadence" when I was writing this, hence the kind of strange but entertaining chapter title. Man I amuse myself sometimes... And that about wraps up this chapter of The Devil's Workshop. Please join me next time when we'll be learning how to take over the world with pipecleaners and pocky.
MysticShadowWanderer
Disclaimer: Ever met anyone who's style of driving a car/truck is sexy? Weird, ain't it? ^_^
*****
Chapter Twenty Three: Decadence Of Sickness
Kaoru tossed and turned throughout the night, keeping Battousai awake. He propped himself up on one elbow and lifted his head to watch her, crimson hair spilling over his shoulder to brush at her nose. She shifted and swiped her hand past her face fleetingly and sank back into the mattress with a quiet groan. Battousai wondered what she was dreaming of that troubled her so much while he softly ran his fingers through her hair, frowning; it was probably him. He breathed a quiet sigh through his nose and dropped his eyes closed as he leaned over to kiss her forehead gently. Lying back down, he tugged her into his arms and held her body close to his, burying his face in the silken comfort of her hair. What he wouldn't give to take all her bad dreams and make them his own.
Dreams were the bane of Battousai's existence, for they proved what was too real for him to attain, or what was too beautiful for him to express. In one manner of thinking, he realized that what he saw wasn't reality for him, and everything he saw that played behind the shade of his eyelids was nothing but a petty illusion, but then he had to wake in the morning. Waking meant the cessation of dreams, and those few moments of utter terror when he didn't know what was real and what was a dream; to him, at least for now, dreaming and waking were part of a hellish experience that he forced himself to undergo nightly. Sometimes he wished he could sleep forever; more often than not he wished he would simply fade out of existence and let the world forget that he ever walked upon its lands. It would make things so much easier. Kaoru's weight in his arms was all that kept him hanging on to the narrow thread that tie him down to sanity.
Even in her unconscious state, when Battousai's warmth sank into her being, Kaoru felt instantly comforted by his safe presence. Whenever he was around her, she knew she would be protected, whether from a sword-wielding enemy or the pain of her own tangled emotions. Her dreams, while still being disturbing, ceased to be so important as the strength and unexpressed love she could feel from Battousai. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that she was too involved to back out now, her need for Battousai ran too deeply and was too entangled in her every fiber of being to allow her to ever leave him; the thought was slightly frightening, and was enough to draw her from her sleep, albeit slowly.
Kaoru moved restlessly, rolling on her side to look at Battousai. Unsurprised to find her still sleep-laden gaze met by warm amber, she reached out a hand to slowly stroke his scarred cheek. He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to her hand with a contented sigh, causing a faint smile to grace her face.
"What's wrong, sweetling?" came the quiet rumble.
"Nothing," was her whispered reply. "Nothing..."
The press of her hand against his face slipped lower; she ran her palm across his chest and his eyes opened slowly, as if he were drugged. For the slightest fraction of a second, he wondered if any of this was real, and if he truly owned this woman that he held in his arms. Not for the first time, his thoughts lingered on death, perhaps it was best to kill her and then himself, to be forever embraced by the slow, cold sleep of infinite silence. Shaking himself mentally, he ignored the urge and pulled Kaoru to him, closing the distance between their bodies.
Kaoru's eyes slid shut under the fierce domination of Battousai's mouth as he kissed her insistently. Something about the way he clung to her brought to the surface of her mind just how insane this man's need for her was. And she would do anything to comfort him what little she could, though in the end it always seemed futile.
***
Kaoru woke late in the day, feeling tired but satisfied. Though she would be the first one to admit that some of the things she and Battousai had done were depraved, she couldn't deny the fact that she was his to do with what he would. Battousai himself was not in the room when she sat up to look for him, pulling her yukata back on, and for a few moments she questioned herself as to where he could be.
The inquiry was answered soon enough when he stepped through the door bearing a tray with food and a murderous expression. Lifting an eyebrow, Kaoru watched him restrain himself enough to set the tray on a nearby table and then fly into a rage. Sitting with her back against the headboard of the bed, she observed in silence as Battousai took the legs off a chair with one slash of his katana, and proceeded to stalk the length of the room with infuriated steps. Only when he began to take out his anger on his own skin did she move to stop him; the last thing she wanted was for him to carelessly slice a vein when his actions were being guided by his fury.
Grabbing his bloodied wrist, she caused him to pause with his blade halfway up his arm. Before he could register her action, she tossed the object away and brought his forearm to her mouth. He blinked twice as she licked the wound clean, then shoved her away from him. Caught off guard, she fell to the floor awkwardly and sat glaring up at him. All in one wild motion, she stood, drew her arm back, and slapped him with all the force she could muster. This time he lost his balance and went down, looking utterly stunned, but he quickly reached up and caught her sleeve, pulling her down with him.
Kaoru found herself easily caught in the lazy strength of his arms; she was now straddling him. She didn't protest when he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her mouth down to his. When he pulled back, blood dripped from his lips onto his face, but he paid no attention to it. What he was focused on was Kaoru's face, which was looking slightly pale. In an action that entirely contradicted his previous temper, he lifted a hand to brush her hair away from her forehead and feel her skin for fever. She looked down at him with a strange expression, and meant to assure him of her well-being before she passed out.
Battousai cradled Kaoru's unconscious body against his chest and carefully eased himself up from the floor in order to place her in bed and pull the covers over her. A frown creased his face; she had seemed perhaps slightly feverish, but not overly so. What exactly had happened here? He felt like he was missing something, some important suggestion or shadow of a hint that would give him more insight as to what was going on with the woman lying before him. For the time, he passed it off as excessive paranoia but less-than-questionable intuition. It was more than likely that she just didn't handle the motion of a ship as well as he did, and he had pushed her too far the night before. He nodded to himself, both were logical explanations and when coupled as one, made it far too obvious what the problem was. There was really nothing he could do for her save letting her sleep and keeping a cold cloth on her head, both of which he was already doing.
***
With a groan, Kaoru pressed a hand to her forehead and sat up, bracing herself against the headboard. Looking to her side, she saw Battousai sitting cross-legged next to her, his head dropped forward as he sleep. As she moved, he stirred and lifted his gaze to sweep over her.
"You look like hell." He was so very kind about it, Kaoru decided with a glare.
Though on any other day she might have reprimanded him for the remark, which would inevitably lead to an argument, and where that would go was something only the gods knew, but it just didn't seem worth the effort at the time. Her head cried in agony as she slumped back down against the voluminous pillows Battousai had placed beneath her. It was entirely too difficult to keep her eyes open, but she struggled to do so as Battousai insisted that she eat at least something.
After Battousai fed her a few pieces of fish, she almost instantaneously fell asleep, dropping her weight onto the bed and closing her eyes heavily. Smoothing her hair out of her face, Battousai stretched out beside her, loosely flinging an arm over her as he laid on his stomach with his head resting on his other arm. He was no longer tired, but his muscles were protesting rather loudly through cramps that he needed to extend them in a more comfortable position, so he contented himself to watch her and make sure to attend to her comfort.
***
The days continued much in the same manner, Kaoru ate very little and Battousai's anxiety increased steadily day by day. Often she was so deeply asleep that her ki became faint; he assumed her dreams, steadily plunging into the dark realms of hellish phantasms, were of a nature that with dripping crimson fangs coaxed her to shroud her ki, and the reflexive action in her sleep was so strong that it was not only imagined but real. The experience was unnerving, because he frequently was unable to tell what she was feeling, and sometimes if she was even alive, which terrified him to an extent that nothing else had ever been able to accomplish. At times, he read something unrecognizable in her ki, for seconds at a time. The perception was faint, generally only a mere pulling at his senses, so he let it pass without questioning what it was, most likely it was nothing more than another product of her dreams.
Battousai spent his time lying next to Kaoru and holding her, mostly for his own comfort and sanity, or pacing the room, lost in thought. Reason told him that, eventually, she had to wake up, and that she was just sleeping off whatever illness or aversion to sea travel it was that she had. It was his greatest fear that she should never wake, and that she would traverse to a sphere which he could not follow her into. This woman was far too pure to join him in whichever hell he might be granted access to, and he dreaded that she should be taken from him for eternity once she was stripped of breath. He knelt by the bedside and took her hand in both of his, pressing it to his forehead as he closed he eyes and stumbled through what was his desperate attempt at a prayer. Usually he felt nothing but contempt for the gods, the calculative beings that forced him to sustain endless sorrows, but for Kaoru, he thought that perhaps he could pray.
***
Kaoru wandered through a field of grey flowers, alone and frightened. And cold, she was so very cold. Rubbing her arms briskly, she tried to see through the thick haze that hung in front of her vision, desperately searching for Battousai. If only she could find him, everything could be set right again. He would know how to save her. Too deeply lost in a broken vision, she could not find her way out. She tried to call out his name, but her voice caught in her throat. There was no one near her, or at least not that she could see. All that she could distinguish in the blur of grey on grey were the forbidding-looking trees that loomed ominously in every direction. Around her she could hear murmuring, thin, breathy voices that half-called to her and spoke wordless lies. She couldn't quite understand what they were saying to her, but they wouldn't cease their whispering. Pressing her hands to her ears, she couldn't block out the sound. A silent scream tore from her muted throat, and she began to run, to nowhere and anywhere.
The trees seemed to open their branches as she drew near, running as fast as she could into the black forest. Her flight was wild as she ran with all the speed she could possibly muster. Stopping only when she could no longer force her body to take another step, she stumbled to her knees and lay sobbing on the cold ground, tucked into a fetal position. She was lost and terrified, with no way of getting back to Battousai. The most of her problems was glaringly obvious to her. Not only did she have a single estimate as to her location, she couldn't remember where she had been before now. There was nothing in her mind, no home, no family, nothing but Battousai. All she was certain of was that she had to find him.
Time was nonexistent to Kaoru, she could have lain there on the grass and dirt that looked and smelled dead for two seconds or two thousand years; she really didn't know. But suddenly there was an unknown force coercing her to lift her head. With obscured vision, she gazed into the distance, caught sight of red hair. Within an instant, she was on her feet and nearly flying in the direction she'd seen the flash of crimson. He was there, in a clearing filled with gray sand and strategically-placed rocks, with his back to her. But something was different about this man; he was not the Battousai that Kaoru loved and, sometimes, knew. Once more she tried to speak, but again her voice refused to work. Slowly, he turned, staring right past her as if she weren't there. Kaoru took a few steps closer; no, this wasn't her Battousai, this man had no scar on his left cheek. Reaching out a hand, she tentatively touched the fabric of his gi, which was a vibrant red that stood out as much as his hair did in this world of grey and black. Looking into his eyes, she saw that they weren't amber, or even violet; they were almost the same shade as her own, but infused with a richer hue. Who was this man? He held himself with much of the same deadly poise that Battousai had, and he had swords hanging at his side, but he was not the same. There was no deep hatred and knowledge in his eyes, just simmering anger that was somewhat tamed by what appeared to be almost innocence. How could this be?
Kaoru stepped back to the edge of the clearing and dropped to the ground with a heavy thump. She still didn't know what to do, but she couldn't leave this place, not when there was someone else here, even if he didn't seem to be able to see her and she couldn't speak to him. At least he was a human form; it brought her a shaky sense of normality. There she sat, for how long it was impossible to know, until she heard near-silent footsteps. She watched in half-anticipation and half-dread as another figure stepped into what she'd decided was a training field; her breath caught in her throat. Battousai.
Had he come looking for her? She didn't think that was the case, for he didn't seem to see her, much like the other man that looked so akin to him. Just as she was about to stand and run to his side, he took up a stance that she instantly recognized as that of battoujutsu. She froze and the other man sank into a mirroring stance. Kaoru shook her head in confusion, trying to understand what was playing out before her eyes. Within moments, the two were locked in battle, making no sounds but the swishing displacement of air, the thudding of their feet, and the clash of connecting katana. What was going on here?
Kaoru couldn't follow the movements, she soon grew dizzy trying to watch them. Shutting her eyes, she waited anxiously until she heard nothing but the heavy breathing of one man. She cracked her eyes open and saw Battousai lying face down in the sand in a pool of his own blood, a gaping hole in his back where a katana had been shoved through and then yanked back out. The man who killed him simply stood back a ways, surveying his work in silence before turning and walking away. Kaoru ran to Battousai's lifeless body and threw herself over him, ignoring the blood that soaked the front of her kimono. She sobbed soundlessly, stroking Battousai's hair over and over, and eventually heaving him up and turning him so that she could cradle his head in her arms as her tears spilled down his face. She didn't understand anything, but she knew that her Battousai had been taken from her, and that she was alone and scared and wanted nothing more but to die.
*****
A/N: Wow. I have NO idea where the hell I pulled that out of... I really feel like my writing is getting worse as this is getting further along, mostly because I'm struggling to think of exactly where I want to go with it, so... yeah... sorry you got stuck with my crap. Anyone who thinks this is the last chapter, you're wrong. Give me cookies because you're wrong. This actually has relevance, which I'll consider being nice about and explaining later on in the story ^_^ Anyhow... yeah... whatever... I was listening to Plastic Tree's "Sick" and Dir en grey's "Masochist of Decadence" when I was writing this, hence the kind of strange but entertaining chapter title. Man I amuse myself sometimes... And that about wraps up this chapter of The Devil's Workshop. Please join me next time when we'll be learning how to take over the world with pipecleaners and pocky.