Red Rain

Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece… but someday I'll get the copyrights off E-Bay! Then again, maybe not! LOL!

Summary: It's been a month since Kuro attacked Syrup Village. Kaya reflects on the thoughts she once held and still holds for her butler. Answer to the challenge made for a Kuro x Kaya fic. Angst and character death ensue!

Kaya looked out her window as the rain drizzled down the glass. Black clouds obscured the sun from view, making the young girl sigh with displeasure. She was alone again. Merry had gone out shopping in the neighboring village, leaving her to herself.

Falling back onto her pillow, she heaved a heavy sigh and fell back onto old memories, letting them resurface and sweep her away, washing over her like the tide.

It had been one month and three years ago that her father, bless his soul, had hired a young man stranded on their island.

He was tall, with tanned skin and messy jet-black hair. At the time, he was probably only in his early thirties. He'd donned a pair of mangled glasses, as if trying to hide his deep brown eyes.

Those eyes; it was those eyes she'd fallen in love with so many years ago. How she'd wanted those eyes to be hers, to have them hold only her image in their pools light. And for so many years they did.

Klahadore was always by her side. He tended to her every need. On weekends, he'd take her into the town where she'd shop to her hearts content. Then they'd go buy shaved ice and laugh as they talked over the day.

But that was child's play compared to her heart's real desire. She wanted him to take her more than anything in the world. She wanted him to take her and no one else. She wanted to feel their bodies collide, to feel the force of his muscles as they made love, to feel his tongue wrap around hers.

At night, she dreamt that he slept with her, until she felt so warm and content, that when she woke, it felt as though it were real. Then he would walk in with his bright smile and present her with her morning tea, proving that it had been a dream.

After her parents' death, she clung even more to him. It was he that stayed by her bedside, he that administered her medication, he that brought her dinner, and he that stroked her forehead until she dozed off. Only he would do.

All of that was gone now. But looking back, she realized something. She still loved him. Even though he'd almost had her killed, she still wanted him to hold her, to make love to her, and now her dreams were shattered, scattered in the breeze like the leaves in the fall.

She stared out the window as the lightning streaked across the sky in an arch.

"Why, Klahadore?" she whispered.

Carefully, she picked up the knife that lay by her bedside. Turning it over in her hands, she stared at the cold metal. It was smooth and cold, just like him.

Slowly, she pulled it across her wrist then let her arms fall back onto the bed. The searing pain blinded her as tears of pent up agony streamed down her face. She felt the pull of her strength draining away, drop by drop.

As she closed her eyes, she smiled as the image of her former butler played across her mind.

"Perhaps, we'll meet in heaven," she said, quietly.

The sound of rain rang in her ears as the thunder roared across the sky. Slowly, the image of the mistress and her servant vanished, replaced by cold, lonely black.

Finis.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this. I never step down from a challenge and I've had it in the back of my head for a while. Flames are all right, I know it's an unusual pair, but they will be used to create strawberry muffins. Please R&R!