Hisagi watched the woman in front of him, his eyes languidly moving, as he fingered the hilt of his sword. 'You are so beautiful and I, I am afraid to touch you, lest you break,' spoke his mind, 'You are but an illusion I am to see but never partake.' Her perfect lavender eyes, sharp and yet playful at the same time, peered at him from beyond the fan that hid the rest of her face. Her body was posed perfectly, control rippling though the taut muscles that lay beneath the fabric of her kimono. 'Ah but, she leaves just too much to the imagination.'
Sake in hand, he sits there watching her as she performs yet another art. His eyes roved her, taking in ever crease, ever nook and cranny of her form, his eyes filling in the details that weren't there. 'The moon that the baboon would never own.' Her pale pink lips curved slightly into a subtle seductive smile, and yet some sort of sorrow seems to frame her eyes. 'Lips like the sakura itself, and just as tragic.' A smile curved on his lips as well; the game was made for two. And he wonders idly, as he sipped, as the last string of the shamisen was plucked, what he would have sold to have heaven in his arms.