"Years ago, when I was little, my family and I were visiting my aunt a few towns over who had just given birth. It was a day's travel, but because me and my siblings were so young, my parents spent the night at an inn.

Across the street from the inn, there was a woman leaning against the wall of what I presumed was her home. Her robes were long and colorful and hung off her shoulders gently. They would've trailed the ground if not for the geta sandals she wore, adding extra height to her stature.

She was smoking a long pipe, while staring longingly at the ground. Like she wished she was buried beneath it. A frown was permanently etched on her face, as if all the happiness in her life had been stripped away. Stripped like a flower that had been denied sunlight its entire existence.

I'd never seen anyone look this sad before, so I asked my parents if it was OK to cheer her up. They hesitated, but ultimately let me go, since it was only across the street.

"uh Miss?"

She didn't notice me approaching until I spoke. Despite being so much taller, she had to drag her eyes up to look at me, "uhm, You looked like you were having a bad day, so I came to cheer you up," I said handing her some rice cakes with the biggest smile I could muster.

She was speechless at first, glancing up and down the street several times, wondering where I sprouted from.

She blew smoke up in the air, away from my face, then squatted to my level, forcing a smile for the very first time. She asked where my parents were and why I was in town. I told her they were across the street and that we were visiting my new baby cousin.

"What's your name, sweet girl?" She finally asks.

"Mitsuri," I said.

"Mitsuri. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl." She meant it when she said that. Her eyes told me.

"Mitsuri, you're not from ... a house... are you?" she asked.

"Yes, I am, Mommy and Daddy's house!" I said, none the wiser.

My response caught her off guard. She blinked several times at me before bursting out laughing. Even though I didn't get what was so funny, her laughter made her shine so bright and beautiful that I laughed too. We laughed until tears rolled down our faces. "Mitsuri, what do you dream of when you grow up?" she asked, wiping her eyes.

"I wanna be just like my Mommy!"

"Ah, so a wife and a mother. Such a sweet, pure dream."

When I asked her what she dreams about, she said. "I don't dream."

When I asked why, she said something I'll never forget:

"Love is reality losing to fantasy, Mitsuri. The joy lasts but a fleeting moment while the pain lasts a lifetime. Love isn't real in my world." She left me with those words as my parents called me back.

I cried all the way to my aunt's. I cried so much that Daddy had to console me many times.

But one thing he said in particular finally made me stop crying. And I swore if I saw her again that I'd tell her what my dad told me.

Returning home, we stayed at the same inn as before. I looked out the window and there she was, standing across the street smoking her pipe. I raced to meet her. I was wearing different clothes and my hair was done differently, but she recognized me immediately.

"It's you..." she said, blinking, as if I were a ghost.

"You're wrong!" I shouted, causing her to back a few steps from me. "Daddy says when we love something, no matter how fleeting, we never lose it! Everything we love deeply becomes a part of us, forever! It's not a fantasy! As long as it was real once! It's not a fantasy!" Maybe she didn't have a dad to tell her these things, like I did. So I wanted to tell her before we left, so she wouldn't be sad anymore. People stared at us. I was crying hysterically at this point, but she let me finish.

She dropped to her knees and hugged me, apologizing profusely for making me sad. She apologized many, many times and that's when I realized she was crying too. So we cried together.

She offered to buy me anything I wanted as an apology. But I only asked if she could braid my hair, so it looked like hers. So she did. When she was finished, she made a move to place her hairpin in mine, but stopped. "I have something even better," she said. Pulling a flower out of her long sleeves and putting it in my hair instead. "A plumeria?" I asked because of its pink color.

She shook her head. "Plumerias have five petals. This is a 4-leaf clover, Mitsuri."

She explained people coveted 4 leaf clovers because they were lucky. However, the one she had was extra special because of its unique color. "It was a gift someone left for me, but I want you to have it. As long as you keep this, Mitsuri, all your dreams will come true"

"But what about your dreams?" I asked.

In that moment, a man who looked way different from any man I'd ever seen walked over. He was a foreigner, with bright hair, bright eyes, and a very bright smile. She smiled at him warmly and authentically before smiling at me. She wished me good luck and fortune, saying that my smile saved her from making a big mistake. Then she stood up and left with him, waving goodbye to me. "

Mitsuri sighed, pen in hand, trying to think of how to phrase this next part. Writing her thoughts was so much better than speaking them. It gave her ample time to think, but this letter proved quite difficult.

"When you said my smile brought joy to people without realizing, I thought of her. I know now, it was a courtesan I was talking to and not just a sad girl on the street. And I'm sure you're wondering why I'm bringing this up. I don't know what changed in between meeting her a second time, but something tells me it had to do with things left unsaid about that man she left with. Obanai, you told me once that unless feelings are said explicitly there may be no other way to know how somebody thinks."

Her face set alight. Her heart pounded a lot these last few days since that night in the garden.

The things they did...

The things he said ...

The emotions she felt...

I want to taste youtonight, I'll make you feel beautifulI need you to say itLet me do something for youDo you want thisMitsuridon'tcover your faceif you're OK with itI can show youit'syour opinion...

I notice you, mitsuri, I do.

It all blurred together Like a mosaic stitched together in her mind. His words resonated deep, leaving a profound impact. Things were different now-completely different than the first time, when they were too drunk to stop.

Was this it? For every voice saying it was, there was an equal amount saying it wasn't. Worse, the voices were telling her to run and run fast.

She writes.

"Look, I know we've done things out of order. And I know this letter probably isn't the best way to talk about this, but I need to know. Iguro, would you be willing to take me as your br- "

She jumps. The subtle rattle of her window sliding open made her heart leap to her throat.

"Sorry," he says, seeing her flustered appearance, shutting the window gently behind him. "Are you busy? Want me to leave?"

"No! No, no, it's all right!" she forces an awkward laugh, crumpling the letter fervently in her hands.

-1 hour earlier-

"Thanks for walking me back, but uh.. Are you sure you don't want to come inside?" she asks apprehensively, glancing everywhere but his face.

"Are you ok? Do you need me to come up? I mean, it's already late..." he asks, raising his eyebrows.

She blushes. This was the second time she's asked since they began walking. And the second time he's declined. Was she being pushy? Why did this feel like Rengoku all over again? Should she come out and say it? She stood awkwardly listening to him explain the patrol he had tomorrow, which preventing him from staying up too late.

She was about to nod and say goodnight when two figures caught her attention. Her hand shot up instinctively to wave, accidentally, cutting Iguro off mid-sentence.

"Shinobu! And... Kyojuro," she greets, eyes lighting up.

"Good evening, Kanroji" Shinobu greets with a smile equal to match. Despite her efforts to hide her giddiness, her face flushed. She couldn't help it. Her heart betrayed her again when she saw him.

"Kanroji! Iguro!" Rengoku waved happily.

He slams her against the wall, pinning her hands. "You actually left the window open," he murmurs against her lips.

"Never locked it in the first place." She replies, just as breathless as him, wrestling her hands from his grasp. She shoves him back to her bed. But he flips her by the waist at the last second, causing them both to fall with him on top.

He pulls his face back from her chest, locking eyes with her as she caresses the scars on his face. He flinches but melts into her touch as she runs her fingers through his hair with the other hand.

He is significantly more confident this time. Paying absolutely no mind to the footsteps of kakushi doing maintenance around her home as he climbs on top, positioning himself between her legs. He delicately sweeps stray hairs from her face and leads in undressing, tossing both their clothes to the floor, placing soft kisses on her shoulder.

She moans gently, lifting her neck, allowing him to nibble delectably.

"You taste so good, Mitsuri." He whispers, more like moans in her ear as he dips his hips into her, hard and searching. So she will forever cherish the compliment. He's never uttered a single word of praise about anything he ate. No matter how delicious.

The room filled quietly with their pleasured pants. "Where are you?" he asks, probing gently. She positions him at her entrance, already aching with desire.

A loud moan escapes her mouth when he pushes through, sliding deep within. He covers her mouth swiftly with his hand.

"Shh! These walls aren't soundproof," he says, twitching a little inside, while he scolds. She quivers, overwhelmed by the sensation. She wasn't the skittish girl worried about offending anyone right now. Rather than danger, she found pleasure in the illicitness of the situation, as he thrusts forward, burying himself home inside her.

She did her best to keep her voice down, but couldn't stop the breathy pants that escaped her lips each time he pressed.

He took his time, lingering as if to explore her reaches. But his mind was ever-present, checking to see how she felt, making sure she was ok. Especially, when she let out very confusing sounds that could easily be mistaken for pain.

He was... good. Really good at this. No matter how insecure or hesitant he was the first time they did this, he knew exactly what he was doing now. She chalked it up to Iguro being such an adept learner. Rarely did he need to be shown anything more than once to get the gist of it. Especially after his performance in the garden.

She watched while he worked, head bowed, hair veiling his eyes and part of his face, mouth slightly ajar as he moved with controlled precision. He was serious and God was he good to her.

"Hold me tighter," she says, in almost-desperation. He obliges, holding her tightly, quickening his place a bit.

She felt her body constrict. The pit of her stomach swirled, tightening up inside, synchronizing into one heated, pulsing point before exploding out all around him. The pounding of her heart is matched only by the sharpness of her back as she lifts herself up, straight off the bed, digging her nails into his back.

He pulls out after she climaxes. She apologizes, worried she hurt him, making him stop prematurely. He waves it off, saying he was concerned about not finishing inside like the first time. A sentiment she shared, too. Neither wanted to tempt fate after getting lucky that first night. But when she cools off and softly asks if he wanted to finish, but in another way ... how could he say no?

"M-Mitsu-" he's almost thrashing beneath her; gripping the surrounding sheets with a fist. His other hand alternated between yanking and smoothing her hair out in synergy to how rough or gentle she pleasures him. This was Iguro at his most vulnerable, his most uncertain. He was completely at a loss of what to do. Unlocking this side of him made her feel confident in herself, at least for the duration of their frenzied coupling.

Because Come daylight, the roles would reverse again, she knew. She'd come crashing back into the ditzy, fidgety, dimwit who was always unsure of herself and he'd be the ever-confident, taciturn, savant she confided in when things get tough.

But doing this again with him made her think about the letter... more importantly, it made her wonder about his strange behavior an hour ago before he arrived through her window.

"Oh, Iguro? Heading home?!" Rengoku asks when he heads off suddenly.

"Why, what's it to you?!" he snaps back. Kaburamaru hisses too, as if they rehearsed it beforehand.

"Iguro?" Her eyes widen at his hostility. That response had a bit more venom than was strictly necessary. But Kyojuro paid no mind, even laughed as if it were an inside joke. "Oh nothing! Just wondering if you'd like to have lunch with us tomorrow." He says, letting the aggression roll like water off a duck's back.

Obanai looks at her instead of answering. He did it in such a conspicuous way even Rengoku picked up on it. Shinobu too. Now all 3 were staring at her, "Uh..." she swallowed, "S-Sure, I don't mind- "

"-No thanks." He says, walking away, not even bothering to wait for the reply. She blinked again.

That... hurt. Was he mad? She knows he gets mad quickly sometimes, like Shinazugawa, but what's the point of giving her that look, if he didn't care about her opinion? Her eyes fall to the ground.

But then, out of nowhere, he asks, "Kanroji, how long do you plan on staying up?" She didn't realize how low her head hung until it snapped up at his question, thrown at the last second like an afterthought.

He was mad. She knew. Because he didn't bother waiting for a response. "If you fall asleep before I get back, leave the window open," he grumbled before departing. Her face was cherry-red now as the others gawked.

She ran away mumbling something nonsensical, like she had to 'water her cat'.

His behavior left her conflicted. The seismic shift from being the caring guy she liked to this hostile bully when others were around confused her deeply. When he came through the window he wasn't angry at all, apologetic even. But the most confusing part is why he was even here. Didn't he say he was busy? He denied her invites twice, emphasizing that he had a patrol tomorrow so...

...What is this?

They never talked about what they did. Never talked about the relationship at all. Yet here they were doing these... acts again, almost like he expected they would. The dissenting voices screamed at her.

Mitsuri hates to admit it. Hates to even THINK about it, but she's been here before. A guy swooping in after she's heartbroken, saying all the right things to make her feel good, then leaves for a very long time, only for her to catch him repeating the same process to other girls. She didn't realize what the courtesan meant until she grew up and experienced how terrifyingly potent a man's fake charms could be on a girl like her. For some, lying came second nature to getting what they want.

So it begs the question: Was this ... real?

While Iguro was nice, he was almost too professional, like calling her Kanroji around others and acting aloof and indifferent whenever they met during the day, as if what they did wasn't as special to him as it was to her. And now that her memory gears were really turning, Rengoku said it was Iguro who pushed him to date her? Why would Obanai do that, if what they had was special?

Does he actually care about her, or was she just fun to him?

Should she ... ask him?

So should she ask?

Should she...?

...

... No...

... No.

Her love life was always cursed. If she asked and it all meant nothing, it would dispel the notion he was different from other men. Especially so soon after Kyojuro. It would destroy the faint happiness she felt while being with him. No. She has to keep this to herself and enjoy the ruse for as long as possible before the inevitable happens. Like Master said, as long as she understood the root of her happiness, she could tolerate whatever this was.

This little torrid, little love affair.