He looks at me again. "Do you need anything?"

I scoff. "Yes, a remote for my life with a rewind button. Perhaps a pause button too, that sounds nice." I immediately regret saying that, so I continue. "I didn't even hear you come in, how much did you hear?"

He leans forward, trying to meet my eyes. "Just the ending lament. The minute I awoke, I knew I had to see you. Mizuki tried to stop me but he didn't stand a chance." He leans further. "Please look at me."

My eyes stay on the table. "I can't Kazemasa. If I do, I might fall apart. You despise weakness, remember? I am the definition of weakness right now. The idea of disappointing one more person is too much, especially if that person is you."

His hand slips off my shoulder. He reaches up and tucks my bloodstained hair away from face and behind my ear. The tender gesture chases the shadows away further, and I can see him through my periphery. He's not looking like default Kazemasa with his sturdy, steadfast look. He's something that, in the small amount of time I've actually seen him emote, I haven't seen before. He's worried. For me. Even though I'm the reason he got shot. He may be the only one that truly understands me, and I pushed him away.

I turn my head and face him. I can't believe this man got shot only hours ago. He had to of had a blood transfusion, bullet removal, stitches, and god knows what else. He didn't go to a hospital, just this…hell I still don't know where we are, maybe there is a hospital here. He must be bruised and bandaged, but does he look it? No. His body is infinitely more refreshed than mine is, like he just stepped out of a hot shower. He still dons a kimono, but it's a fresh one in a sensual shade of hunter green. What a fine situation this is; I'm covered in battle aftermath, smell like a butcher shop, apparently hail from a saint, and I'm getting turned on by this man. I need to say something.

"I'm the one who should be asking if you're okay." I look at him, face falling. "I'm so sorry, you're getting shot was all my…"

He puts a finger on my lips. I'd kiss it if I wasn't so drained. "My actions were mine and mine alone, so there's no need to apologize. If it hadn't been me, it would have been someone else. I can take it. Besides, I can't think of a time I've been better." He says, but he still looks worried. "Actually, let me rephrase that: I could only get even better if you were alright."

"I wasn't, but then you came in, and now I at least feel human again."

He gives a sad smile. "I'm the one who's sorry. I was supposed to protect you, and I wasn't there for you when you needed me the most." He tilts his head to the side, seeming to survey my look. "Although, I can't say I'm sorry that you now know the whole truth, or that you've risen up to the challenge of becoming…more."

He puts his hand on my knee. His touch continues to warm me, continues to make me think that maybe everything is going to be okay. "Tell what I can do to help."

I look down at his hand on my knee. Strong, combatant hands with a touch of light. "You've done everything right Kazemasa, you can lay your arms down and rest. It's my turn to take care of you. I know you said you don't believe in being responsible for those you save, but I do, so let me be responsible for you."

A flash goes through his eyes. It's tough to decipher, until he says, "We are responsible for each other." A slow smile spreads across his lips, and I can't help but smile as well.

His smile widens. "Ah, there we go. I knew that beautiful smile couldn't stay away." I smile wider myself. How can I not? I love his smile, and apparently he loves mine.

I feel much better. Of course, the minute I feel that, his hand moves away from my knee and he looks serious. Well, of course he does, how long did I think it'd last?

He folds his arms and leans back in his chair. "Do you want to talk about it?"

And before I can think yes or no, I get up out of my chair and the words come flowing out. All my uncertainties and fears about being descended from a legend, being engulfed in light on the battlefield, loving my sword but hating it at the same time, wishing Christophe had told me earlier on but understanding his reasons for not, hating that I had killed yet also not regretting it. I saw every thought that comes to my head about all of it, and he listens intently the whole time.

When I finish, I take a deep breath and the shadow on my soul is gone. It was as if a deadly poison had been coursing through my veins, and with every word drops came flowing out until I was completely cleansed. It was a lot of information, and a lot has happened these past few days, but I'm okay. I know I'm going to be okay.

Kazemasa's voice breaks through my thoughts. "How do you feel now?"

I fist pump the air and laugh. "I'm okay!" I shout, more laughter following. I look at Kazemasa, still leaning back in his chair all serious like. "I'm sorry, once I start flowing I can't stop." I smile at him. You helped me be okay, Kazemasa.

Kazemasa rubs his chin. "Joan of Arc, huh? That's heavy."

Is that all he can say?

His hand moves from his chin to the scar on his left eye. He touches it gingerly, then recrosses his arms. "It's tough, I know it's tough, but I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm grateful you were willing to listen. Without you, I think I may have imploded." I smile. "I don't see how I could have ever found you selfish Kazemasa, all you do is give, even when you should be receiving."

Of all things, he smirks. "You thought I was selfish?" I feel my eyes widen, and he laughs. "It's okay, to be honest I take it as a compliment. I do as I see fit for the greater good, and often times that makes people shy away from me. I even prefer it."

"You do?"

He nods. "It makes saying goodbye no problem."

The light hearted nature of the conversation disappears. He gives me a melancholy glance then looks down at the ground. I can feel myself pouting. I should ask the obvious. Go ahead, ask him what will happen when we say goodbye.

I touch my bloodstained hair, and look at my bloodstained shoes. I should, but I can't. I don't really want to know.

Instead, I say, "So…you're a royal samurai with a group of ninja assassins?" Yoshitsune never said that's what they do, but it wasn't hard to put two and two together.

His eyes return to mine. "I have done nothing to earn the title of samurai; I just descend from them. As for the royalty part, I could do without it. The thought that I'm supposed to be the one on the Chrythanamum Throne has never sat well with me, I could never be in a role of such sloth. I respect our emperor, but I'd rather fight for him than be him anyday."

"I don't know what Yoshitsune told you, but I don't think calling my friends 'a group of ninja assassins' is fair. Ninjas kill for money and without thought, they aren't in either category. Yes, they're deadly, perhaps deadliest in the world. Yes, they're part of a secret service that pays respect to the way things were. No, they weren't created to protect me and they all have day jobs. However, if their cover was ever blown…well, you understand."

I dip my head in a quick bow. "I do. I'm sorry, I meant no disrespect, and I hold them all in high regards."

He nods. "That'd mean a lot to them. They've done so much, but they can't ever be thanked the way they deserve."

"Does it ever bother you that you can't join them?"

"I did join them, once. It did not go over well." His eyes cloud over like he's chewing on a dark memory.

It hits me. "Your scar…"

He nods and touches it again. "I only hesitated for a moment, but a moment was all that was needed. It could have been worse, but it was enough to teach me an essential lesson, as well as make Yoshitsune angrier than I've ever seen." His eyes are alive with the memory. "That's when he told me. I know he did it to keep me out of future predicaments, but it changed everything. I've been alone much of my life, but that's the one time I felt lonely. I was now different. The skills I harbored and worked on for years no longer felt like mine. My knowledge was great, and yet I knew nothing. I was more or less an outsider in my own country, all the while protecting one of its greatest secrets. It's difficult to respect history when it is not in your favor, but it deserves respect nevertheless. It's a part of me, a part of Japan, and on a grander scale, a part of time." The memory fades, and he looks at me. "Anyway, you see why I was stressing the importance of acting quickly. After today, I know that will stick with you for life."

There is so much that makes sense now.

I want so much to embrace him, for us to hold each other until our secrets dissolve away and we are just a man and a woman locked in affection. Instead, I walk behind him and place my hands on his shoulders. He doesn't tighten or shrink away. He must be sore. I start to massage his shoulders.

His head inclines forward, and he sighs. Guess he doesn't feel like being touched. I start to move my hands away, but he reaches back, grabbing my wrist, and he raises his head back up. "Please, don't stop."

I put my hands back. Already, he feels more tranquil. "I'll go as long as you like Kazemasa."

"Mmmm, thank you."

I blush. Good thing he can't see me, how many times am I going to blush around him?

My hands knead deep into his muscles. Every deep caress into his shoulders leaves me feeling like jelly. His energy pours from his body into my hands, and I am invigorated. I move my right hand to his neck. My fingers gently dance around the nape, softly stroking the curves. Again, my heart skips a beat. I hope it flowed through my fingertips and into his heart. My heart is beating for you, Kazemasa. I move both hands to his neck, fingers touching the side and thumbs still massaging. My hands slowly move up into his healthy head of hair. I run my fingers through delicately, leisurely massaging his scalp and enjoying the softness of his tendrils. My fingertips find his temples, so I start to massage them in slow circles.

His head inclines back. He's now resting on my breasts. The touch fires up a thousand sensations of desire. I look at his face. His eyes are closed, but he's clearly deep in the throes of peacefulness. I darsay I see traces of desire myself. I keep massaging.

"Mmmm…" he purrs. Desire indeed.

And yet, it's not just desire. I'm feeling love. I could deny it, rationalize it, or sink completely into it. I have to deny so much else, I will not for this. I'm in love. I love this man. I spent all my time doing so much else that I never went looking, and yet it found me. He found me, and he's worth it. He's been worth everything.

I lean my head downwards, close my eyes, and inhale his scent. Sandalwood again. He smells so good. My lips plump together. Still massaging, I lean further and softly kiss him on the forehead. Always be mine…

I open my eyes, lips now barely grazing his forehead. He's looking right at me, his eyes an ocean of serenity. My hands drop back to his shoulders. He continues looking into my eyes. Can you see how much I love you? That I never have and never will feel this way again?

He breathes deeply. "I thought I could handle anything life threw my way; this is uncharted territory for me."

I close my eyes. "Me too." My lips brush against his skin as I speak.

He reaches up and touches my face. I open my eyes, he's still looking at me. His eyes carry the look of a man dying of thirst who's now staring at a cold glass of water: desperation, necessity, relief, and desire all rolled into one.

His hand falls away from my face. "I don't think I'm going to be able to say goodbye to you."

I slowly back away from his forehead. My right hand drops off his shoulder and the left one caresses across his shoulders then down his right arm. When I reach his hand, I entwine my fingers with his and stand in front of him. "Then don't."

His thumb strokes the top of my hand. "What's a man to do when logic pulls him one way and a woman pulls him another?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Well now, I lack logic do I?"

He rolls his eyes. "That's not what I meant and you know it." Still holding my hand, he stands up and closes the space between us. He wraps his free arm around my back and pulls me close. "I'd like to hear your thoughts."

Here I stand, bloody, muddy, and just straight up filthy, and he still holds me close. I rest my head against his chest. I hear his heart beat and I just want to melt into him. Yes, this is right.

"You really want to know what I think?" I say, squeezing his hand tightly.

He rests his chin on top of my head. "I do." His sultry voice flows through my ears and straight to my heart, sounding so sweet honey seems to drip off every word.

"I think you should keep holding me like this." I nuzzle into his chest and put my free arm around him.

"Well, I think that can be arranged." He coos. He releases my hand and wraps that arm tightly around me too. "Watshi o dakishimete."

I giggle. "I love it when you speak Japanese." Suddenly, I'm reminded of what he said before the battle, the phrase the boys wouldn't translate for me. "Which reminds me…"

I take my head off his chest and look up at him. "What does 'Hajimete ata tokikara sukidata' mean?" It's clearly not mean like I thought it was.

He smiles lovingly. "Ah, I knew I'd have to explain that. I'm sorry I couldn't articulate myself better; I couldn't find the right words and, to be honest, I was nervous."

Now I'm smiling. "You? Nervous? I don't believe it."

"It's true." He raises an eyebrow. "I am capable of a great number of emotions, believe it or not, including a few I didn't know were possible."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I'd say it's very good. Now, since you still want to know what it means-"

SLAM!

Our heads whip in unison towards the door. It has been burst open, and in rushes a frazzled looking Christophe with Yoshitsune right behind him. It looks as if Christophe was running away and Yoshitsune tried to stop him. Upon seeing that Kazemasa and I are embraced together, Christophe stops and his look transforms into one of anger.

"Inacceptable!" he hisses. I don't understand why he even bothers to speak French, everyone will figure out what that means.

"Christophe…" Yoshitsune tries to reason, but anyone can see it's too late.

"Young lady, we need to talk and right now!"

I defiantly rest my head back against Kazemasa's chest. "I don't want to talk anymore." I just want to stay in Kazemasa's arms.

Kazemasa holds me closer. "She's been through enough today Christophe, let her relax."

Daggers shoot out of Christophe's eyes right for Kazemasa. "That's Dr. Belair to you, and you stay out of this! It's not your concern."

Kazemasa puts a hand on the back of my head, and now I can't see Christophe. "I'd say it's every bit my concern, leave her alone."

I hear Christophe charging forward, and Kazemasa lets go of me. In one quick moment, he shoves me behind him and puffs out into his defensive stance. It hardly seems necessary, but I make no effort to move. I rest my hands on his back.

I hear Christophe laugh angrily, I can't see him but he's clearly right in front of Kazemasa. "Oh this is rich! You think I'm going to harm her when I've been protecting her all these years?" He laughs again. "Or do you just want to pick a fight? I tell you boy, that flimsy little katana wouldn't last a second against a Frenchman's sword!"

I've never heard him this angry before. I hear footsteps, and then Yoshitsune's gentle voice.

"Kazemasa-san, stand down. We need to talk as well."

I see Kazemasa turn his head in the direction of Yoshitsune. "I can imagine about what sensei, but I'm not moving."

"This is not up for discussion, you can and you will stand down."

I feel Kazemasa start to relax. "Fine, I'll leave him alone, but she stays with me."

"SHE WILL NOT!" Christophe yells.

"Christophe!" chides Yoshitsune, and with that I'm angry myself.

I step out from behind Kazemasa and stand beside him. "Stop it Christophe! We'll talk later, I'm staying with Kazemasa."

Christophe looks like he's about to flip his wig, and Yoshitsune just looks dejected. Clearly, these two are torn on whatever they just talked about.

Yoshitsune sighs. "Alright, this has gone far enough. Kazemasa-san, I order you to leave right now and come with me. You should be resting anyway, your stitches have broken open and you're bleeding."

Kazemasa's eyes go wide. Oh no…

I stand in front of him. For the first time, Kazemasa actually looks hurt. I still can't see the bandages, but his left shoulder is slowly soaking with blood. Kazemasa looks under his kimono at the bandage, and I reach out to help.

Christophe's hand grabs my wrist. "Yoshitsune is his Guardian, not you. Let them handle this."

I don't believe this. I'm about to yank away when Kazemasa grabs Christophe's wrist. It's clear he's got him in an iron vice because the grasp on my wrist slips.

"You'd dare put your hands on a lady? A lady you've sworn to protect?"

Vitriol fills Christophe's eyes as he snarls at Kazemasa. I can tell he's in pain from Kazemasa's hold but he's not going to admit it. Kazemasa, having grabbed Christophe with his weaker arm, is clearly in pain too. He starts to pale and I see more blood spreading on his kimono. He needs care.

"Allright, allright." I say, defeated. Christophe looks at me, and lets go of my wrist. In turn, Kazemasa lets go of Christophe. "Fine, let's talk." I look at Kazemasa. "Please go get patched up, I'll join you shortly."

Kazemasa's expression is now one of pure agony. He looks at me with crestfallen eyes then softly puts his hand on my cheek. Before I can react, he softly kisses me on the forehead. There's something about the action that leaves me unsettled, and the second he moves away I cannot wait to be reunited with him.

He walks off with Yoshitsune, his head hanging low. Yoshitsune is whispering to him in Japanese, but I can't make out a single word. Please feel better soon.

The door closes behind them, and I glare at Christophe. "I certainly hope you're happy."