Author's Note: Well, hello there old friends! *waves nervously* It's been a long time, hasn't it? Who'd have thought it would take me an entire year to update again, but hey at least I've proved that I'm still soldiering on! My first year of university kind of sucked up all my time, but really at this stage there's no excuse for taking so long. It actually took me until my internet went down yesterday to finally sit my butt down and finish this, so let's all thank my rubbish internet connection for this chapter! Hope you enjoy, guys! There's only one more to go, how exciting is that?

Chapter Thirteen

It really was true revenge was sweet. Sano grinned like a kid in a candy shop as he opened the rucksack he'd gingerly lowered to the floor. The deceptively harmless looking pipes strapped inside gleamed in the fluorescent lights and he took a moment to gaze at them in awe.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he freed the first row of bombs, lifting them slowly out of the rucksack and lining them up on the floor with their detonator. He was literally playing with fire and he knew it. One wrong move and the explosives would blow, killing him and anyone else in range. Megumi would definitely not be amused if he came back missing a limb or, worse, in a body bag.

Sano chuckled at the image of the fiery doctor shouting at his ghost, getting frustrated when whatever she threw at him went straight through. It really wasn't funny though, but then he had no intention of blowing himself up today so it also didn't matter.

He was just lifting up the first pipe, ready to slide it into one of the artistically crafted holes he had made with his pickaxe, when a voice nearly caused him to drop the bomb.

'Oi, Tori-Atama, what's taking so long? You waiting for the guards to come and help you?'

Yahiko stood, scowling and holding a can of gasoline at the other end of the corridor.

'Shut up, squirt. I'm trying to concentrate here,' Sano snapped, returning the glare and ignoring the way his hands shook.

He'd nearly let the pipe slip through his fingers.

'Do you want us to go up with this joint?'

Rolling his eyes disdainfully in the way only teenagers could, completely secure in his immortality, Yahiko returned to pouring more petrol across the floor in great swathes.

'Just hurry up, would you? We ain't got all day.'

Sano chose to refrain from commenting in favour of not killing them both, slipping the pipes one by one into place and making sure they were stable before moving on.

'Right, let's blow this jukebox, Sunshine.'

Sano carefully lifted the rucksack onto his shoulder and started for the exit. At the look of confusion on Yahiko's face, he sighed.

'Time to trip the light fantastic and get outta here, kid.'

'Great, who let the crazy person carry the explosives?' Yahiko muttered, slouching after him. 'And don't call me kid!'

Sano waved a hand dismissively, eyes trained on the two other buildings already blazing in the afternoon sunlight. The shocked shouts of unprepared guards attempting to douse the all-consuming flames made his already large grin spread to epic proportions. It served them right for burning down his home. It had taken him forever to find a place that both he and Battousai approved of. Their criteria had differed so completely. He had wanted a romantic spot to attract the ladies, or more specifically one lady, and Battousai had been insistent on a fortified location, a condition that did not spell love nest.

Sano sighed heavily at the thought of having to rebuild or relocate if and when everything ended the way it was supposed to, soothing his despair with the enticing little red button on the detonator in his hand. There was a second of silence before the storm hit, flames bursting from every opening. It writhed like something alive and in agony, giving off an intense heat that burned the backs of their necks as they dashed to a safer distance.

'Hey, you said I could press the button this time!' Yahiko howled, his face scrunching in a way that made him look much like a petulant toddler.

'Ah, I forgot, kid, my bad. You can do it next time,' Sano replied, his tone unrepentant and gleeful as he gazed at the ever mounting fireball that used to be a building.

'You said that last time,' Yahiko grouched, shoving his hands into his pockets and nimbly evading a piece of flying debris. 'And don't call me kid.'

'Yeah, well, I got a lot on my mind…kid.'

Dodging the angry kick aimed at his shins, Sano looked around for the next target.

'Tell you what, you pick the next place.'

Yahiko grumbled softly, knowing perfectly well that the next time would be exactly the same. Sano was just too enamored of his new toy. All the same, he didn't complain again, looking around for the next objective. He'd take what he could get, anything to keep his mind off what might be happening to Kaoru right now.

Spying a large red brick building a distance away, he pointed at it.

'Good choice, bud, you got taste,' Sano nodded approvingly, punching the boy's shoulder before lifting one of the petrol canisters and making his way towards the structure.

It didn't take long for them to discover that it was actually the opposite of a good choice. It was in fact the armoury and security building. Normally it would have contained over fifty heavily armed thugs, all dying for an excuse to try out their weapons. However, luck was somewhat with them, most of the guards had been called to help with the other fires, leaving only ten or so to chase them back through the corridors towards the exit, guns blazing.

'You have seriously shitty taste, kid!' Sano shouted as he barreled round another corner, trying valiantly not to jostle the rucksack full of explosives on his back.

'Well, you should have paid attention to the sign saying "Security" in big black letters, before just walking into any random room, idiot,' Yahiko growled back, turning his head to glare at the taller man. 'We could have snuck back out if you hadn't marched straight into their bloody main office.'

Yahiko's eyes widened as Sano abruptly yanked him by the back of his shirt, nearly taking him off his feet. Had he gone too far? Was the idiot actually going to hit him? Sano had to know that if Kaoru made it through her ordeal, and Yahiko refused to believe she wouldn't, he would suffer tenfold what he did to him if he hurt him.

'You,' Sano snarled, loosening his grip on Yahiko's shirt and balling his fists at his sides.

The happy-go-lucky Sano Yahiko knew was gone, replaced by the vicious assassin he actually was. This must be what the former street fighter's victims saw, not that any of them were alive to tell their tales. Yahiko would have been scared if the anger radiating from the man's form was aimed at him, but Sano's eyes were trained over the top of his head and if looks could kill whoever it was would be dead right now.

'Yo, Sanosuke, long time no see.'

Yahiko turned to stare at the blond standing at the other end of the corridor. He had never thought to see a man with hair that could match Sano's for its height. How much gel must these men use to achieve that look? Normally, he would have jumped at this chance to poke fun at Sano, but, considering the fact that they were now trapped between two groups of heavily armed guards, he wasn't seeing as much of the funny side.

'When was the last time we saw each other?' The blond tapped his chin thoughtfully, a grin plastered across his face. 'Oh yea, I remember, it was that time ya couldn't hack it and they had to bring me in to do the job. Very embarrassing.'

A vein ticked in Sano's forehead and his fists were so tightly clenched they were white with the strain. He looked ready to kill someone. Yep, it was definitely not the time to poke fun at a guy more than twice his size, more than twice as strong.

'Yea, I bet it was so difficult murdering a weak little girl, Chou,' Sano spat. 'Bet it was real hard.'

Chou swatted the air with his hand as though he was waving the words away from him, nonchalant, unafraid the guilt of the accusation might taint him.

'Ah, ya know, work is work.'

Yahiko could feel Sano practically vibrating with rage beside him. The power of the tall man's ki sizzled along his skin, setting the hair on his arms on end and tensing his already strained muscles.

'Work? That what you third raters call it?' Sano growled. 'Begging for scraps, more like.'

Chou's face contorted and he lurched forward towards the other man. Sano had found and sliced into some internal injury, a sore spot in Chou's arrogance.

'Yea… Well at least I don't copy other people's style, Tori-Atama,' he responded feebly.

'What's that supposed to mean, Broomtop?'

Sano took a step forward, shaking Yahiko's grip from his arm. He still had the presence of mind not to simply dump the rucksack on the floor though, instead gently placing it beside the younger man.

'What do ya think it means, ya idiot? Can't think of your own hairstyle so ya have to steal a better man's.'

'Why you little…'

Both men surged forwards, barreling towards each other like malevolent express trains. Without warning an alarm squealed to life, blaring up and down the corridors. A sharp red light flashed overhead, bathing the room intermittently in crimson blood.

Just as fists were about to make contact with flesh a tooth jarring grate of noise resounded from above and they hardly had time to yank back their arms before two metal gates dropped in gleaming fury at either end of the corridor, clanging into place with sickening finality. Much swearing and wrenching of bars ensued.

'Get your asses back to the control room and turn that goddamn thing off,' Chou howled, sending the guards scattering back down the corridor towards the main office.

There was no way it was going to take ten men to turn off one security alert, but it was equally clear that none of them wanted to stick around to take the brunt of Chou's wrath while he waited.

Yahiko wasn't sure whether to be happy the battle had been averted or terrified at being trapped in this cage of metal and brick. Sano was no help, scrabbling between the bars at the blond haired man, exchanging useless insults and flinging equally useless punches.

'Idiot Broomtop!'

'Stupid Tori-Atama!'

Yahiko shook his head, looking around for a means of escape. It definitely didn't feel like he was the teenager in this set up. His eyes fell on the rucksack, pickaxe wedged in the top. He didn't like the dangerous idea forming in his mind, but there was nothing else to use in the minimalist chic of the corridor. Once the security alert was lifted they stood about as much chance of survival as a pot of gel in Sano's possession. It had no doubt attracted the attention of those fighting the flames.

Carefully freeing the heavy pickaxe, he hefted it with all his might against the wall he hoped led outside. The contact jarred his arms and rattled his teeth. His furious muscles told him he'd used incredible force, but the tiny mark in the plaster mockingly begged to differ. This was going to take a while.

Looking up, neither of the men had noticed his actions. The petty insults and shouting seemed to cover the racket. It was a good thing in a way. If Chou worked out his purpose he would set up an ambush on the other side of the wall. Then again if Sano took over things would happen a lot more quickly. He had created the holes with irritating ease. It was a catch-22.

It took several minutes and a lot of precious energy to destroy the plaster and brick enough to fit one of the pipes securely inside. Sweat burned a stream down his back and cramps jabbed needles through his skin. Dragging a sleeve across his forehead, Yahiko realised his standard of conditioning wasn't as good as he'd thought. Kaoru would be so disappointed. The thought of his adopted sister slashed at his heart and sent a fizz of adrenaline through his exhausted system.

Gingerly unstrapping a pipe from its companions, he slid it inside the crude slot and drew the back up fuse from its hiding place, fingers trembling from the fear and exertion. He wouldn't be able to use the detonator he'd so wanted to try. Each one was linked with a row of bombs and blowing them all would be suicide in such a small space. Just his luck.

Hauling the rucksack and pickaxe as far across the room as possible, he sauntered over to the ever squabbling child-men and slipped Sano's lighter from his pocket. Sometimes his pick-pocketing past really was handy, no matter what other people thought. The blood light stopped flashing. The sound of shouting and hammering feet echoed through the air. Reinforcements were on their way. Time was running out.

Yahiko skidded to the wall, lighter already flickering to flaming life. There was a split second of pure silence as though everyone knew and had halted in awe, even the argument behind him slowing to a stop.

'What the hell are you doin'?' Sano's voice cracked through the peace.

The fuse fizzled and hissed. Yahiko dived for the opposite end of the corridor, yanking Sano by his clothes until they were both pressed against the bars, their heads buried in their hands. Chou cried out, dashing away around the corner to safety as fast as possible.

Thunder struck, debris soaring, crashing, beating at anything it could touch. A dark gash marred the cream wall. Nothing moved, nothing breathed for a moment and then Sano crawled free of the bricks and dust, coughing and carrying the young pickpocket on his back.

One arm hung at his side, swaying at impossible angles, cuts crisscrossed his flesh like a blueprint and a nasty bruise was already blooming along his cheekbone. A few more scars had been added to his collection and his face was not going to be a pretty picture in the morning. The pristine white of his clothes was a wreck of rips and dirt.

Yahiko lay limp against his body as he fought to his feet. Blood seeped steadily down the side of the boy's face where a shard of brick had managed to reach it and his body had faired no better than Sano's. His face was ashen either from blood loss or the white plaster, the tall man couldn't be sure. He looked so young. Only the ache of Sano's ribs as Yahiko's rising chest bumped him told the tall man that the boy was still alive.

'What a damn stupid idea, kid,' Sano growled gruffly. 'Clever, but damn stupid.'

It was time to get the hell out of dodge.

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Battousai stood perfectly still, a bird of prey, alert, waiting, conserving energy. He would not go in search of Shishio. Why bother when there was no need? He had no doubt that the powerful man already knew of his presence. Shishio would come to him and he would bring his Kaoru.

The courtyard was large, all smooth mosaic tile and Roman colonnades. It would have been beautiful if it hadn't been some modern decorator's wet dream. Battousai's instincts told him it was a dangerous site for the battle to come. Buildings, designed to be elegantly vaulted, instead loomed from every side. Aoshi had cleared the rooftops of snipers, but it would not be difficult to replace them.

Nowhere was safe though. He was not on home ground while his enemy had all the advantages of knowing the territory. To change location, especially to go inside the lion's den, would be tantamount to suicide. So he controlled what he could and stayed where he was.

He didn't have long to wait. The huge double doors to the main building slid soundlessly open and two nervous looking servants made their appearance. They carried heavy mahogany armchairs like shields, placing them carefully with a perfect view at the top of the steps into the courtyard. Then they scuttled rapidly back inside. The spectators' seats.

The doors remained open and moments later Shishio himself stepped out, Kaoru at his side. His bandaged fingers were tightly wrapped around the arm slipped through his, holding her in place. The urge to grab her, to tear her away from the tainting grip of her captor, was immense, but he held it back, reining in the possessive instincts. He would have her back soon enough and Shishio would beg for the death Battousai would dangle just out of his tormented reach.

Seeing her like this was unbearable, however. It was like that fierce little dancing spark that coiled through her had been pinched out. He could barely recognise her ki. Even in those moments of intense fear when she had lost herself to her solitude, she had still retained that distinctive heat he loved so much. What had the monster done to his Koneko? What wounds would he suffer for? Kaoru looked so pale and fragile in her wedding…

'Welcome to my home, Battousai.'

Shishio bowed his head regally in greeting, a small gloating smile twitching at his lips.

'You are just in time for the celebrations.'

He led Kaoru to one of the armchairs, resting his hand on her shoulder as she sank to the seat. A shudder ran through her form and her eyes closed a moment to disguise the disgust obvious there.

'Allow me to introduce my wife to you.'

He squeezed hard enough to make her grit her teeth against a hiss.

'But, of course, no introductions are really necessary. You already know each other.'

Battousai's mind reeled, vision darkening for a split second in shock before welcome writhing fury took its place. He would not grant this man the easy escape of death.

'You will live to regret your actions, Makoto,' he snarled, fingers playing across the hilt of his katana. 'I will sever each muscle in your diseased body one by one. I will watch each time you crawl across the floor until you are no longer able to move and then I will leave you for the predators and the insects to devour.'

'I believe our guest doesn't wish us well, my dear.'

Shishio laughed coldly, eyes bright with malicious enjoyment.

'How disappointing.'

Clutching the armrests in a bloodless grip, Kaoru desperately tried to convey her terror to her red haired assassin. One wrong move and the snipers would… She had to warn him, but he was falling for Shishio's distraction. He would die and it would be her fault.

'Kenshin, get out! There are snipers!'

She dived forwards, knowing full well she would not get far.

Shishio growled, twisting his hand into her hair and yanking her sharply back into the chair. Wedding ornaments jangled to the ground with the force. An involuntary sob was wrenched from her throat and she bit her lip to hold back any more sound. She would give him neither the satisfaction nor the help in baiting Battousai.

'What a pity my wife has seen fit to ruin my surprise,' Shishio hissed, tugging on her hair cruelly and soothing his anger with the pleasure of watching Battousai tense at the pain it caused. 'No matter, they were only a precaution anyway. I will have no need of their aid to kill you. I will, however, have no more interruptions from you, Mrs. Makoto. Yumi, Soujiro.'

The beautiful black haired woman swept out of the door, her head held at an angle that said she believed herself a very important person and the look she gave Kaoru saying she should be even more important. She was closely followed by the young swordsman, the ever present plastic grin plastered across his face. Shishio took Yumi's hand, pressing a kiss to the back before helping her to the other armchair. Soujiro calmly took up a position between the two ladies.

'Keep an eye on my blushing bride, won't you?' Shishio drawled, flashing what past for a smile through his bandages at Yumi. 'As we know she has a tendency to get a little above herself.'

Yumi gazed up at him with soft eyes and nodded.

'Of course, Shishio-sama,' she purred, closing her eyes in pleasure as he caressed her cheek gently.

A polite cough from the doorway drew everyone's attention to a man in a sharp tailored beige suit. His thin, pointed face was emphasised by the dark circles under his eyes. They should have looked like tiredness but instead it just drew attention to the petty maliciousness of his gaze.

'Yes, Hoji?' Shishio bowed graciously to Battousai. 'If you'll excuse me a moment.'

Strolling calmly over, he nonchalantly turned his back on the red haired assassin to listen to what Hoji had to report. It was a flagrant display of arrogance on the part of the bandaged man, a statement of absolute confidence in his ability to defeat the Battousai and an insult that set the other man bristling with rage.

Kaoru tried desperately to catch her lover's attention, first with her eyes and then with slight movements of the hands, but he was entirely focused on his opponent. Had he not heard her? Did he not realise that twenty or more highly trained gunmen had their weapons trained on him at this moment? Even with his god-like speed he would not be able to avoid all of them. Her chest constricted and she plunged even further into the despair that was gnawing at her gut. She could not lose another loved one.

In her anxiety, her hand jerked a little too strongly, catching the wrong person's eye. Yumi had been waiting for any excuse to take her revenge on Kaoru, the woman who had stolen the honour of becoming Shishio's bride even if it was only for a short time. Howling gleefully, a short blade shot forth from her kimono sleeve to slash at the other woman's face.

Kaoru's pupils dilated sharply, taking in the glinting stiletto millimetres from her left eye. Her reflexes had kicked in, but it would have been seconds too late. In the time it had taken her to raise her hand, Battousai had covered the distance across the courtyard and held Yumi's wrist in his clenched fist. His gold irises flashed catlike and threatening.

'Harm her even in the tiniest way and I will teach you a new meaning to the word pain,' he hissed low against her ear, squeezing her wrist until the knife dropped from her grip.

Soujiro slid forward, katana clicking free of its sheath more in threat than intention, and Battousai danced backwards out of reach, eyes still trained on Yumi's shocked face. Shishio had looked up from his conversation, but seeing no real cause for concern, he merely shook his head in a what-can-you-do-with-these-women sort of way and went back to his talk.

Kaoru sat frozen in her elegantly embroidered chair. Death had eyed her up and been thrust back once again, but this time it had been so close she'd felt the brush of greedy rictus fingers against her skin. Trapped air gusted from her lungs as her hands fluttered and dropped to her sides. She couldn't seem to absorb enough oxygen from her breaths.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kaoru could see Soujiro stepping back into his previous position. Her head snapped round to stare at him. She could have sworn she heard a soft sound of pain from the normally impassive young man. If the miracle had occurred, it passed faster than the speed of light. Soujiro merely blinked lifeless eyes down at her before transferring them back to Battousai.

'Why did you do that?' He murmured, cocking his head to the side and blinking his eyes like some grotesquely large bird. 'Why do people keep doing that?'

The red haired assassin frowned in confusion.

'Why did I do what?'

'Why did you protect her? If she cannot save herself then she does not deserve to live.'

Battousai snorted in disgust, his face contorting as though he'd just discovered the taste of loathing.

'I protect those I love,' he answered simply, eyes catching and holding Kaoru's. 'What is the use of strength if not to defend what I hold dear, to defend those who cannot defend themselves? Power for power's sake is nothing more than rotting waste, an emptiness you can never keep.'

There was a silence of long moments. Soujiro absently raised a hand to his forehead, rubbing his fingertips at the frown between his eyes as though it ached.

'I would die for her!'

It was like it burst forth involuntarily from deep within Battousai's chest.

'I would die for her and I would thank Kami for the chance.'

Again a flash of that same emotion she had seen before coursed across the young swordsman's face, a mingling of perplexity and pain. Only this time it flared stronger. It was as though cracks were widening each moment in whatever shield blocked his soul from reality, allowing glimpses of the suffering child beneath. There was so much pain and vulnerability in his once blank gaze.

'No, Shishio-sama is right. He must be right. The strong survive, the weak must die,' he mumbled to himself, his bangs falling forward to cover his expression. 'T…The strong survive, the weak must die.'

Eyes suddenly alight with insanity and sharp with anger flared from beneath his hair.

'Why didn't you protect me? Why did none of you, no one, protect me?' He howled. 'Where were you when I was weak, when I couldn't defend myself, when they beat me until I bled over and over…?'

The words choked off into a sob and it was like all the feelings of hurt, of suffering, burst their dam, the meaningless brutality and trauma his child's mind could never comprehend. No one had been there for him so he had created a wall around himself, built brick by brick a wall of philosophy that made the universe comprehensible, saved him from the pain of opening himself up to any other being again. It had become a vicious cycle. He had surrounded himself with the cruelty of the lowest, evilest form of human life, only serving to strengthen his belief so that when he finally came face to face again and again with what he had avoided, true selflessness and love, he could not cope with it. He had let Shishio shape him, but he was now realising that his master's way was not the only one, that he had committed atrocities all these years for false values and robbed himself so long of the chance to find real happiness.

A scream was rent from his chest as his mind struggled to cope with these new sensations and failed.

'Did I not deserve it? What did I do wrong?'

'Enough!' Shishio turned to take in the scene, Soujiro doubled over in agony and the other's standing dumbfounded. 'Yumi, remove him.'

His black kimono sleeve whistled through the air with the force of the movement as he flicked his hand towards the door. During the distraction, Hoji had disappeared.

'Shishio-sama, I…' Yumi pleaded, hands reaching towards him.

'Get rid of him,' he roared.

She silently got to her feet and wrapped her arms around Soujiro in an almost motherly gesture. Swathed in her kimono like some brightly coloured camouflage, he looked very small and so young. Tugging him gently, she led him back towards the door. Mumbled words, both hers and his, soothing and agonized, drifted on the breeze and then they were gone.

'Purile weakness,' Shishio snapped. 'Disgusting. I thought him better than that.'

Then it was as though he shook it off, putting Soujiro aside and labeling him defective.

'Ah well, never mind, better to find out now, don't you think?'

Smiling benignly, he came to stand beside Kaoru.

'My katana please…wife.'

Kaoru gritted her teeth and glared up at him. There was no way she was going to hand him the means of harming her Battousai. Even as his hand seized her own, yanking her bodily from the seat, she refused to move a step further than he dragged her. With each passing second Shishio's eyes slitted further, warping his already ruined face into a thing of nightmares. His grip increased until small dancing spots blurred her vision.

'Koneko,' Battousai said with lethal calm. 'Bring the man his weapon so I can finish this.'

The hold immediately loosened, Shishio's attention drawn back to his opponent as though for a second he'd forgotten he was there. Kaoru didn't look up from the ground, watching each step her feet took as they played peek-a-boo with her from beneath her kimono. With the expert knowledge of a fighter, she knew several of her fingers were broken.

A trembling servant stood in the doorway, head bowed almost in mimicry of her own position and arms held stiffly out before him presenting her with the beautiful katana. She grasped the sheath with her good hand and the second her fingers closed around it the servant was gone. There would be no one to witness this danse macabre but her.

'Any time today, my dear,' Shishio drawled from behind her.

Kaoru gripped the katana so tightly her fingers whitened with the force, tucking her other hand securely in her kimono sleeve out of harms way. She walked deliberately slowly back towards the sadistic, bandaged monster she was now supposed to call husband, thrusting the weapon out to him, eyes turned away to hide the loathing in her gaze.

Shishio sneered down at her, taking the katana and purposely moving too swiftly for her to dodge as he turned and caught the sheath against her other arm. A whimper of pain escaped her lips before she could clamp them shut and he chuckled cruelly.

'Any time today,' Battousai rumbled, eyes ablaze with the rage he kept bottled within.

Shishio raised an eyebrow, gliding down the steps to the marble courtyard.

'Patience, Battousai, your end will come soon enough.'

Battousai snorted a derisive response and slid fluidly into his battle stance. This man's life would end for the pain he had caused his Koneko, but not before he caused him as much harm as she had suffered. Cold, amber eyes looked out from beneath fiery bangs as he raised a hand and beckoned.

'Show me.'

Shishio came at him, katana hissing through the air like an angry snake, and he dodged lithely out of reach. For a split second he wondered at the ease with which he had evaded the other man's attack. He was not the only one with a reputation. Shishio was most known for two things, his brutality and his skill with a sword. Then, just as the katana whipped through the air, breezing inches from his body, blue-white flame burst to life along the length of the blade, singeing a trail across the area the katana hadn't reached.

The force of the blow sent Battousai skidding back across the smooth marble, his shirt sizzling against burnt flesh. Coming to one knee, he rapidly made to straighten up before doubling over, the shock of the blow fading to searing pain. How had Shishio done that? How had he managed to make flame from nothing?

Seeing his enemy so easily felled, a shriek of demented laughter echoed from the bandaged man.

'Is this all you have for me, Battousai? Surely the rumours cannot have been so wildly exaggerated,' he sneered, nonchalantly leaning on his katana.

Snarling low in his throat, Battousai forced himself to his feet and peeled the ruined shirt away from his charred chest, ignoring the skin that was torn away with it. His eyes roamed over the katana, but it was not until the other man moved that he caught the glint of light against the blade, revealing the viciously serrated edge.

'Very clever, Makoto,' Battousai murmured. 'You use the friction of your blade against the floor to create a spark, am I right?'

Shishio smirked, waving his weapon to show its jagged edge to best effect.

'Well done, Battousai. Not as dumb as you look, but that's only half…'

'I'm assuming there is some sort of grease along the grooves,' Battousai interrupted. 'You wouldn't smear it on on purpose though. No, that would be too simple and nowhere near sick-minded enough.'

'Human fat,' Shishio put in.

He sounded proud, almost boastful.

'Each time I make a new cut I take more than a life, Battousai. That is the meaning of true power. Even from the death of the worthless I draw strength.'

There was a pause, a silence that lengthened like the shadows as the sun moved across the sky. This man was insane. If they hadn't already realised it, they did now.

'And now you will join them.'

Even as the words fell from his lips, Shishio was moving, katana catching against the ground before slicing through the air.

It was time for the song to end. He'd had enough of dancing. Battousai slid into position, coiling like a stalking cat, and it was like the very air around him contracted with the suspense. Then with almost god-like speed, he glided across the tiles as though his chest were not throbbing with the tiniest movement and his feet were not touching the floor. Within a split second he stood before his enemy, sword running through the center of his chest…but he wasn't there. Shishio had dodged Battousai's finishing blow, something that had never happened before.

'You believe me stupid enough not to have prepared for you, Battousai,' Shishio taunted, warm breath tickling his ear. 'This is your most infamous technique. Allow me to give you a little advice to even the battlefield, never use the same move twice.'

Pain flared white hot before Battousai's eyes as the bandaged man's teeth sank deep into his shoulder, rending and tearing the flesh like an animal worrying a piece of meat. He distantly registered Kaoru's scream of horror and disgust, saw her move forward out of the corner of his eye as he dropped to his knees, feeling the blood trickle from between his fingers as he held his hand over the wound.

'NO!' He roared, turning just far enough to look at her. 'Do not interfere.'

She forced herself to a halt, concentrating on the throb of her steadily swelling fingers to avoid the reality of what she could see. This was too much, too much pain for her to cope with. Her mind skittered over the idea that her Battousai might lose, might fall to the blade and tricks of this monster, before jerking away in fear and disgust. No, She wouldn't think that, couldn't handle it.

She watched him wrench himself to his feet, swaying a little with the loss of the blood seeping from his wound. With the critical eye of a fighter, she observed the way he slowed as the battle wore on, feet occasionally missing a step in the fatal dance of glinting metal and clashing swords. Her only hope was that the rumours she had heard before she went into hiding were true, that he was as good as was said and that these injuries would only slow him to the level of the ordinary incredibly skilled mortal.

She was right. It wasn't long before Shishio too had numerous red spreading stains across his clothes, the clear evidence of Battousai's immense abilities. Both men hissed breaths through aching chests, barely flinching from deep open gashes, and the silent music of their battle, the sound only those enthralled in war could hear, played on. They never ceased to move, there was never a moment where either man slowed to think or strategise. It was pure skill and pure reflex.

Then, without warning, as Battousai moved in for his latest attack, Shishio paused. He did not raise a defense or dodge the oncoming blow he merely stood perfectly still. The red haired assassin faltered for a millisecond, confused, and it was only this that saved his life. Shishio drew his katana across his gauntlet in a lightning fast movement and a sound like roaring thunder followed as the gunpowder-laced glove released an explosion, sending both men spiraling backwards. Battousai took the brunt of the attack as the power was flung mostly forwards, but he was far enough away for it not to burn him further, the force merely throwing him backwards into one of the ornate colonnades, destroying the stone to reveal its false metal core.

Battousai lay still, body pulsing with the power of the collision and a concussion causing his eyes to blur. Shishio, who had managed to stay on his feet, took advantage of his opponent's weakness. A shriek that sounded almost like a cackle echoed around the courtyard as he ran towards his fallen enemy, katana catching against the ground and crackling to flaming life as he moved. Slashing through the air, he connected only with the now jagged stone of the pillar. Using a technique almost identical to Shishio's earlier evasion, only faster, Battousai had moved with such speed that the other man's eyes had not even caught it.

'You should never use the same move twice, Makoto,' Battousai whispered mockingly in his ear.

Shishio turned sharply, trying to return to the defensive before the redhead could attack but, as he did so, Battousai brought the handle of his katana down on the crook of the bandaged man's elbow, forcing his arm to bend and bring his own katana into contact with his other upraised hand.

The blast was even greater than the previous explosion, the flame lit from the fat of his human victims his ultimate demise. Shishio sailed backwards into the same colonnade Battousai had so recently laid to waste. A bar of the metal that made up the heart of the fake Roman structure jutted dangerously from the center and pierced straight through his chest, fraying the bandages.

For a moment, Shishio stared down at himself, watching as a light trickle of blood escaped the blocked wound. A gurgling caught in his throat and he coughed gently, an identical trickle marring the pristine white of the wrappings around his mouth. Looking up into the amber eyes of his opponent, a smile played at his lips. The better man had won and the weaker had been extinguished. His philosophy was intact. Somehow at peace, he died.

Kaoru stood frozen at the top of the steps. It was over. Her nightmare was over. She should be happy or at the very least relieved, yet all she could think about was the unnaturally sagging body held up only by the metal bar protruding from its chest. Nausea threatened and she stumbled a little, reeling away from the sight branded to her retinas.

Her eyes fell on the figure standing in the doorway, fragile and pale as a china doll. Yumi had lost some of her immaculate poise. Her hair, always so perfectly pinned up, was loose and wild, her clothes rumpled and her manicured fingers grasped the doorframe in a claw-like grip as though she might crumple to the floor if she let go.

It began as a low whine like the sound of a far off airplane, building until it filled the whole courtyard. A howling, unbearable torrent of agony and grief that seemed to pour from Yumi's very soul. She moved so quickly Kaoru barely had time to blink. Cradling Shishio's lolling head, she kissed the unresponsive lips over and over heedless of the blood that stained her own a darker shade of red.

Kaoru had never imagined that this man could evoke such emotion in another human being. Though Yumi had shown every bit of her devotion to him, she had never grasped the extent to which his dark haired mistress loved him. In fact, she had never thought either of them capable of love. Yet, suddenly she realised that these two monsters, united somehow by their twisted souls and cruelty, were made for each other.

In a change so fast it could have induced whiplash, Yumi's pain turned from grief to fury. All sanity left her eyes, leaving behind only feral loss and wild anguish. Whirling on Battousai, she ran at him, stiletto drawn from her sleeve once again. Kaoru had not even noticed the other woman retrieve it after her previous attempt on her life. She felt no fear, however, Yumi stood about as much chance of harming the red haired assassin as she did of escaping his wrath.

Battousai easily caught her wrist as she made to thrust the thin blade down into his neck, amber eyes glaring darkly at her. Despite her certainty, Kaoru still sighed in relief, letting out the breath that had been trapped inside her. She caught it again, however, as Yumi twisted her hand in Battousai's grip, taking him by surprise as she drove the stiletto into her own throat. Blood blossomed rapidly from the wound and Yumi struggled in Battousai's arms.

Laying the dark haired woman on the ground with more gentleness than she deserved, Battousai stepped away as she crawled to where her lover lay, curling herself by his feet as she shuddered her last breaths. It was so pitiful, so heartbreaking, that Kaoru could almost feel sorrow for the lost pair if she did not have the memory of what they had done branded in her mind.

For a heartbeat there was pure silence in the courtyard. Then Battousai lifted those bright orbs up to look at her and, despite the gruesome scene, Kaoru felt her insides somersault at the volumes of relief and joy they spoke. She was safe, he was here and alive and everything was going to be all right. Moving with a lithe grace that belied the pain he must be suffering, he strode towards her, the intensity of his gaze making her pulse race.

She started forward on trembling legs, the knowledge that it was finally over allowing her body to release the tension it had held for so long. Just as she took that first tentative step, a flash out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Looking up, she froze for what felt like hours, time slowing. Then, as though it were trying to catch up with itself, everything happened very quickly, bursting into a run, air trapped in her lungs, unable to escape or make a sound, she flew towards her Battousai.

The bullet caught her in the chest, throwing her back against him and knocking them both to the floor. Scrambling out from beneath her body, he tried to see where the gunman was, but Hoji had already disappeared into the fading dusk.

Battousai dropped to his knees beside the crumpled body of his beautiful Koneko. Kaoru lay perfectly still, staring up at the cold, grey sky. Roaring his torment, he pressed his hands over the wound, trying to hold the blood inside her body, fear and anguish tearing at his gut, but it was no use. It slowly trickled from between his fingers to coat the marble tiles in dark red life. Above them, large flakes of snow began to fall as though to hide the dirty wreckage of battle. White on bloodshed.

Author's note: So am I going to go back on my promise and kill off one of my characters? *wiggles my eyebrows evilly* Review, my darlings, and maybe the joy of your love will induce me to update before 2012 =P