A Song of the Beloved

Description: A look at the fictional relationship between Akechi Mitsuhide and Mori Ranmaru as presented in SW, told from Ranmaru's POV as he guards Nobunaga at Honnoji. Rated T for violence and references to the shudo tradition.

Disclaimer: Samurai Warriors and its characters are the property of KOEI.

Chapter Five: Even Beauty Must Die

A horse approaches, its rider a motionless statue, devoid of expression.

I wait in the smoke and flame, a living symbol of determination.

A few paces in front of his line, he dismounts and closes the distance between us on foot.

"Hello, Ranmaru."

"My lord."

"Stand down, Ranmaru. You have proven yourself a hero of our age, your loyalty and skill unmatched. But if you persist, only death will be your reward. It is time to surrender."

"Atsuji Sadayuki offered me the same choice. If you want my answer, ask him yourself." I flick my head in the direction of the corpse in question.

He grimaces at my harsh response. Again he appeals to me. "Do not do this, Ranmaru. For the sake of our friendship, stand down. His time has come. The people will never submit to a ruler of such cruelty."

"I see," I answer, my voice dripping in sarcasm. "And I suppose you have received Heaven's Mandate that lets you, a single man, speak for all the people?"

"No," he replies, ignoring my scorn. "But I have made my choice, and I must move forward."

Rage explodes within me. "Damn you! Are you saying this rebellion is my fault?" I raise my crimson sword above my head.

"No. I know what you were trying to tell me. But I cannot, Ranmaru. I have to follow my own heart, and that is why --"

"Enough!" I cry. "If you're going to kill me, do so. Otherwise, there are women and children who need to be rescued from this burning temple."

My words pierce him, just as I intended. He staggers backwards. A moment passes, and then his face hardens. He draws his katana and holds it loosely by his side.

"Fine. I see you've made your choice."

"I have."

"Then I must give you what you want!"

He attacks. His blade crashes into mine, and the impact shudders down my aching arms. I have just enough energy to defend myself. I will never beat him. Not now. Perhaps not even if he had come to me straight away. But the outcome does not matter. I knew even as the orders dropped from Lord Nobunaga's lips that he and I would both die this day. What matters now is that Lord Mitsuhide will not reach Lord Nobunaga without considerable effort.

My foot slips in a pool of blood, and my balance fails briefly. Lord Mitsuhide's blade cuts into my arm. I manage to push him away and right myself, but a few moments later, I slip again. My legs feel heavy and thick, as if the dead are reaching up from the ground and clinging to me. Helping their commander avenge them for their murders, even though he is the one who sent them against their lord. Pulling me down as punishment for my loyalty even as I punished them for theirs.

A slice deflected. A stab avoided. A swing met, but too strong to hold. My sword flies too far above my shoulders, leaving me open. And I feel the thrust as it enters my chest and pushes through. The pain seizes my entire body. Is his sword made of fire? For I feel as if my insides have ignited.

"Why?" he whispers. I raise my gaze to him and see tears in his eyes. "Why did you choose him instead of me?"

I drop my sword and, with my empty hand, take hold of his as it grips the weapon that impales me. "Because," I gasp through my pain, "I gave him … my loyalty and … my life. Even if I were .. with you .. I would not be myself … anymore."

With the last of my strength, I pull myself from his blade. I collapse to my knees, instinctively covering my wound with my hands. The blood pours through my fingers, covering the old, nearly-dried blood of others with a new, terrible red.

"Break down the gate and bring me Nobunaga's head!"

Fire is raging in my chest. My mouth is filling with blood. The sounds of soldiers rushing by is drowned out by a pounding in my ears. I notice Lord Mitsuhide standing in front of me, protecting me from any pettiness from his soldiers as they pass. Then, my sight fails and I see only blackness.

I am falling, I think. It is so hard to tell. I spit the blood from my mouth, trying to breathe, but the air is burning.

Arms. Arms are holding me, fingers wiping away the blood that leaks from between my teeth.

"Ranmaru."

"Forgive me," I whisper, focusing all I still have into one final breath. "Lord Mitsuhide, Lord Nobunaga, I have failed you both."

The blackness before me is beckoning. Strange. It has depth, although I don't understand how I know that. The pain is fading. The prospect of entering that darkness elicits no fear, only curiosity. That, and a sense of home.

Just before I move forward into it, I hear one final voice. The voice of a person I used to know and love.

"No, Ranmaru, we are the ones who failed you."

The End

A/N: My objectives in writing this were twofold: one, to help me understand how these friends ended up fighting each other by figuring out, not why Mitsuhide rebelled, but why Ranmaru stayed; and two, to give Ranmaru a bit of his dignity back by presenting him in a strong light. I feel that I accomplished both. I hope you agree.

Even though this is now finished, I would still welcome reviews. Thanks for reading all the way to the end.