a/n: Last chapter.

x

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

x

— "My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun"
William Shakespeare

Waking up to one of the most dangerous and beautiful women in the world next to him was an odd experience.

For a moment, Zenzou thought it'd been an illusion of some sort. Not that he would have minded. He was still half-convinced that this was a colossal, and fantastic mistake, undertaken by two relatively damaged people in some surrealistic fever dream.

Despite that well-honed cynicism, he couldn't help himself from staring at her. She looked far better naked than with clothes on, although that wasn't to say she didn't look good most of the time.

What the hell were they thinking? This was an exercise in madness. What if she woke up and had decided that this wasn't what she was looking for? There couldn't be any take back - once that emotional door had been opened, it couldn't be closed again. If he left her now, at least he'd leave with his dignity intact.

But how could he leave right now if his arm was stuck under her side?

A minute later, she woke up, somehow sensing that he was conscious. Yawning, she stretched slightly, before noticing that he was looking at her.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked, her voice raspy from the morning.

He shook his head. They were far too personal to confess.

Ayame narrowed her eyes, studying him for all of five seconds before declaring, "You're overthinking again," and promptly slid her body on top of his, straddling his hips.

"I - "

"It's too early for that sort of nonsense," she said in a voice that was making his toes curl. "I've decided that we both deserve this, don't you think?"

His body, at the very least, couldn't help but to agree.

Things had gotten relatively simple after that. After what one would call a "fuckfest" - in which he devoted the whole morning in the sixth room replicating everything she had wished for in the fifth room, and then adding a few more sessions to seal the deal - the two of them had finally gotten into their rotten heads that they were supposed to finally reach the last door, and were vaguely shocked to find themselves in the middle of Yoshiwara.

They looked behind and saw that the door that they had exited through had completely vanished.

Ayame - who was looking a little bit worse for wear, looked cross. "I can't believe she fucking set us up, Zenzou."

So at least her memory of what they'd just gone through hadn't mysteriously disappeared. "Who?"

"Tsukki! That bitch just wanted me out of the way - she just couldn't stand me being her rival in love!"

He snorted. "Then why would she do it after she got married?"

The curl of jealousy that used to flare up whenever she talked about the samurai wasn't there anymore. Whatever she wanted, or hadn't gotten from the other guy - he'd give it to her. Even if this was still a mistake, he'd endeavor at the least to make sure she was happy. But this time, it'd be in the open.

He wouldn't hide anymore.

"She's just covering her bases," his girlfriend said adamantly. The bite marks he'd left on her neck were still there. "I have a mind to go there and slap her - "

"Ayame."

She flushed, still unused to him calling her with a different name. "Yeah?"

"If she had told you that your boss had a huge crush on you before this ever happened, would you have believed her?"

She turned even redder. "Well, no. But it's still pretty fucked up, right?"

"I'm paying my amends. I set that samurai up during the Scandal arc, so he finally got his revenge on me, I guess."

"Him too?" Her mouth opened in shock. "Bastard. I hope Tsukki pegs him."

He wouldn't be surprised if that woman actually did. "What time is it?"

She checked her smartphone. "Same time, but just a day later."

Huh. He thought they'd gone through a year. He certainly felt as if he'd aged as much since then.

No matter. He'd gotten what he wanted.

Turning to her, he said, "What do you want to do now?"

She grinned salaciously. "Oh, I could think of a few ideas, boss."

A shiver ran down his spine.

three weeks later

The comfortable, but discreet office of Nakamura Hotaru was located in Edo's medical district, a few blocks away from the hospital. The woman in question had just finished a session with a newlywed couple, and was enjoying a cup of tea during her break when her secretary called her on the intercom.

"Nakamura-sensei, there's two people down here who haven't made an appointment - but they won't take no for an answer - "

She certainly sounded harried, Hotaru thought to herself. "What do they look like?"

"Well, the woman has purple hair, and the other has a fringe that's covering his eyes - "

"Bring them in," Hotaru said, her eyes twinkling. Tsukuyo had warned her of this possibly happening. It was the case of two people being extremely good at narrowing down facts and analyzing a situation, but the consequence was that their personal lives generally suffered as a result of their hyper competency.

She continued to sip her tea calmly as the door to her office burst open, revealing a red-faced and puffing Sarutobi Ayame, who was just as pretty as Tsukuyo had described. Her hair had been tied up in a ponytail and her kimono emphasized her curves in the most womanly of ways. Behind her was someone she presumed was her boyfriend, although his expression seemed more aggravated than anything.

"Good afternoon," Hotaru greeted them politely. "I see that you two have escaped the escape room. How can I help you two?"

"I knew you set us up in that room," Sarutobi accused her. "You - you - "

Hotaru waited.

"You put a spell on me," she said. "Love incense, or whatever - "

"The incense doesn't exist anymore, Sarutobi-san," she said pleasantly. "I'm afraid Tsukuyo destroyed all the last remaining incense years ago."

"You're a witch," she spat out. "I don't know how you designed those rooms, but only an absolute enemy obsessed with us would have gotten all the details right. What was the intention behind all of this? What do you want?"

Hotaru finally set down her cup of tea. "I'm a couples' therapist, Sarutobi-san. I just want to see people being happy, and in love. Please, sit down."

With some hesitation, they finally did.

Admittedly, her methods were unusual. Hotaru's experimental ways of getting two people to communicate were generally not accepted by the mainstream practice as of yet, in spite of her high rate of success. But her former background as a courtesan had given her more perspective than your average armchair psychologist. In addition, she had also found that she was quite good at listening to other people - a skill that had served her well in both occupations.

Most men who came to Yoshiwara were bastards. But she had gathered that the vast majority of them had never learned the correct ways to communicate with their wives, to be able to identify what was missing from their marriage, or what they truly desired from life itself.

Enough of her customers, in lieu of sex, had requested tamer things from her that Hotaru had learned that men didn't want to just make love to their wives.

They wanted connection. To be understood. Physical intimacy wasn't just the only aspect that made a relationship work. It was all those in-betweens - the playful bantering, hugs and hand-holding, words of affection, a sense of partnership - they were necessary to build up the foundation blocks for a successful couple.

She had learned that, similar to her situation, that things could get in the way of fostering and strengthening a marriage. Life obligations often took precendence over fostering intimacy, especially if they had a demanding job or family. A lack of confidence, or a tendency to put the issue on the backburner in the hopes that it would get better someday were especially common obstacles that she encountered when she queried couples as to why they hadn't sought out counseling years ago.

"It's unethical," Sarutobi countered, crossing her legs on the chintz armchair - but her tone was a bit less vicious. "You can't play with people like they're toys."

Hotaru tilted her head. "It was a request from one of my oldest friends. I couldn't turn it down, especially when she mentioned how guilty she felt for the last year or so. Hattori-san, what do you think?"

He looked uncomfortable. "I didn't think strangers had access to our memories. The precision of detail was... unsettling, I have to say."

She smiled. "Those weren't yours. I asked around. They were from various colleagues of yours."

"Who?"

Hotaru smiled at that. "I was only able to access them under the condition that I wouldn't tell."

Sarutobi whipped her head at her boytoy? boyfriend? friends-with benefits? and said, "If I find out that this was Waki's doing, I'm going to shove her roses down her throat, tie her in rope, and throw her in a river."

"Please don't," he mumbled. "The organization is already understaffed as it is - "

"It's what she deserves anyways!"

Hotaru could already sense the looming argument - or perhaps this was their version of foreplay? She wasn't sure. Clearing her throat, the two of them looked at her once again.

"Sarutobi-san, the question here is whether you love him or not. Regardless of the method used, this is the only thing that matters."

Sarutobi flushed. It was as good of an answer as any.

She changed the subject. "Is this what you did to Tsukki? Because if I know her - and I think I do, that conniving bitch - she was ready to go to her grave without telling a single soul she loved Gintoki."

Hotaru smiled. "Not necessarily. Escape rooms I generally reserve for couples who have... a history, to put it lightly. "

"And that was us," the boyfriend? friends with benefits? guessed.

She nodded. "Your case was rather... complicated. You two are childhood friends, yes?"

"Something like that. It was more of a rivalry in the beginning."

Hotaru fingered her wedding ring. "My husband and I were also childhood friends. Even though I was once sold into Yoshiwara, he could never stop thinking about me."

And similar to him, she could never truly forget him either. Although lust was ephemeral and sex often transactional, love was another thing entirely.

No matter how strong you were, emotionally, or physically - love was something that couldn't be tamed.

It simply... was.

What people did with it was another matter, but Hotaru, at the very least, would try her best to foster it as much as possible. Enduring years of going without it, and then having the second chance to be regain it again...

It was the reason why she loved her job, and was good at it.

"Is that how you met Tsukki?"

She smiled. "Of course. She and her husband - well, they weren't together at the time - also was the reason why I believed in love again."

"Can't believe you find that white-haired samurai all that compelling," Hattori commented. "He's an objectively terrible person."

"He is?"

"Shush," Sarutobi said. "So you had a hand in how they got together?"

"I might have," Hotaru said coyly.

"Are you going to tell me?"

"That would break patient confidentiality," she said. "Unless you're willing to shell out details - "

"Give them our sex tapes," Sarutobi said, causing her partner? boyfriend? to sputter out. "They'll learn a thing or two. How did you get that nasty bitch to finally confess her feelings?"

Hotaru paused, and took a sip of tea before admitting, "Aphrodisiac."

Sarutobi stood up, outraged. "You literally just said there wasn't any more love incense, you liar!"

"The kind that I use doesn't work unless there's mutual feelings involved. I reverse engineered it with some major alterations," Hotaru said. "Essentially, I use it to determine if there are any residual feelings in a couple. If they don't start acting kinder, or more open towards each other, than I know the relationship is over. I call it Aizen-kou Darkness."

Admittedly, it had taken a bit of clever maneuvering to fool Tsukuyo into asking Gintoki to get rid of the second variation of incense, but the results spoke for themselves.

"And? Did they end up screwing like monkeys?" Sarutobi asked. "Please tell me she did. She needs an outlet other than that damn job of hers - "

"That's really none of our business," Hattori interrupted her rudely, to which she replied, "Shut up!"

"They're married and that's what matters," Hotaru said firmly. "Now, would you two be interested in a free follow up session? I tend to offer them after a week when a couple figures how to escape the rooms - "

"No thank you," Sarutobi said. "I don't need you poking around in our heads more than you already have." The kunoichi stood up and exited the office without further ado.

"Fair enough," Hotaru said in the silence that followed, still charmed all the same. She stood up to hand Hattori her business card. "If you need an outlet from her," she said in a lowered voice. "I also do individual counseling sessions from time to time. Blowing off steam can be really important, too."

He grinned. "I'm used to it," but pocketed the card anyway. "But yeah, I might."

There was a voice yelling at him from the lower floor. "Hurry up Zenzou, or I'll eat all the grape Chuuberts when I get home - "

"You don't even pay for them, shove off!" he shouted back. Sheepishly turning to Hotaru, he gave her a shy smile. "Thanks. For everything. I... "

"Enjoy it," Hotaru said. "And send me the wedding invites. I'm sure it would make Tsukuyo-chan very happy."

He chuckled, and then walked out of the door.

Behind it was a plague hanging on a hook, with a few sentences written on it. She glanced at it, as she always did, and smiled to herself.

.

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"I don't think that a flower that's never known wilting is beautiful. No matter how many times the petal falls, it blooms again. That's why love is beautiful."

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the end

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a/n: I headcanon Hotaru's husband eventually recovered from his injuries, started a small carpentry business and then after he became a success, would then support her to find a job that she really liked. I find their love story quite compelling. :)

Thank you as always for reading!