| Title: Seduction is a Fine Art - Part 1 Rating: PG-13 - O_o?! I wrote something that's rated PG-13?! *faints* Series: Yoriden Samurai Troopers/Ronin Warriors Characters: Sh'ten/Anubis and original Note: I'm taking the Japanese names in this little ficlet that I've done. Dai Masho - Grand Demon General Oni - Orge, Oger. It symbolizes Spring. Ko Rai Sei - (American Translation) Quake with Fear (It's actually Red Lightning Attack) ------------------------------------- Seduction is a fine art. ------------------------------------- I am a Masho. I have no need for any other feeling but loyalty, anger, and fear: Loyalty to The Master, Anger to those who oppose him, and fear of the Master. Then why do I feel remorse for this woman and the petulant child? Why do I feel that I must not harm them? Why do I feel as if I know the woman who helps my enemies? Bah. I am a Masho. I cannot have any other feelings. I shake my head in wonderment at the way my thoughts trickle through my shield. I should have no feeling and that is truth. I should be a cold, calloused warrior, but yet thoughts slide in and insinuate themselves within my secluded shield. I pull out the sword from its hiding place beneath my sleeping mat and run my fingers along its edge. A matching beauty once held so lovely a weapon. I want to cry, to mourn for her, but I cannot. I am a warrior under the Master, and I do not have those emotions… For a moment when I close my eyes I see the features of that woman with my enemies, her brown hair waving in the wind, but it is not brow, but a rich honey gold. Her eyes are not green, but a brilliant blue that shames the finest gems. Perhaps that is why I am so tormented. She is not truly the one I wish. Perhaps she is indeed reincarnated, but knowing her, it is likely false and this is just something else for the gods to torment me with. Even as I write this, I can see the way her soft honey hair curled, feel the soft touch of her hand upon my cheek, and hear her soft footsteps across the room. Yet this is not so. She has been long gone from my world. Perhaps an explanation is in order. There was once a woman under the command of Master Argo, and no, ‘twas not Kayura. Kayura is nothing but a child, and she always will be to me. No, this woman was more, and I am sure the name she gave was not her true one. Shinare. It truly is fitting that she was called ‘death’. Everything she touched would be dead, or more eloquently; anyone who touched her would die. She would have nothing to do with the other Masho, and that was fine by us. We wanted nothing to do with her. Her reputation alone succeeded her, and no one would be near her, or with her. Not even Master Argo would second-guess her judgment, as she was so sound minded. Her prowess was nothing to mock. If you were stupid enough to cross her path, you had better have been quite sure in your faith, and your place in the universe. She was the thing of nightmares. It is truly humorous how things turn out. Master Argo chose me, last of the four. Anubisu was the first, then Nazza, and the oldest, but last chosen, was Rajura. I was a latecomer to the group, and yet Master Argo wished for me to lead them. I had experience enough, but it was not right that the other, elder of us be passed up. That is the reason Rajura hates me so. Anubisu and Nazza? Well, they are more good-natured about it. Mostly teasing me. No really harsh things were said between us, but for all intents and purposes, they were against me. Master Argo insisted that I train under Shinare. Why, I have no clue, but I am loyal, and so I do what my Master commands. I go to the Mistress of Death. Surprisingly, she greets me with far less indifference than I believed. She was harsh our first meeting, beating me down in moments. I noticed that her hair was honey, and her eyes blazed with the fire of her spirit when I was pined to the mat. I pulled myself off the ground, wiping blood from my lips. My eyes narrowed as I watched her, gauging her as she no doubt was gauging me. My kusari-gama was held lightly within my hands and the furry of being beaten down, time and again, by this mere woman ignited my gift, and as I sprung into the air, I called forth my power. “Ko Rai Sei!” The weight was thrown from my armor-clad fist and sunk into the ground only to allow several red streaks to envelop the area. The light solidified, and she was encased in several chains, dangling from the ground. I stepped back and I felt a smile of triumph curve my features, believing that she was in shock. Sadly, I was the one in for a shock. I saw her lips quirk in a smile, and suddenly, I was thrown backwards as the chains broke. When I finally rose and pulled my battered body into a defensive stance, she was standing there, watching me with those large and luminous blue eyes. The small smile still graced her features, and I was in awe. She stood proud; her honey colored hair had fallen free from its intricate coif to tumble around her hips, and she had her sword out pointing to my throat. And then I fell down, my body no longer supporting me; her eyes followed me as I fell to my side and rolled onto my back, prone. I looked her body up and down, noticing the gently curving of her waist, the full curve of her breasts, and now thin she was. She was a true perfection of beauty. Her long legs were encased in black leather, and her dark boots came up past her knees. She had a long black vest on that tied quite tightly across the middle of her breasts, almost acting like a corset. The ties stopped right under her breasts and split open to expose the smooth expanse of her stomach. The smooth tops of her breasts were exposed, and upon her left upper breast a silver crescent moon glittered. She pulled her sword away, those fathomless blue eyes watching me, and she knelt down beside me. Her knees rested beside my hip as she sat back on her heels, watching me. Slowly, her hand reached out to touch my gashed cheek, her fingertips gently resting underneath the wound. I watched her lean slightly forward, her hair falling around her shoulders and spilling into my hand. I felt the coolness of the soft strands and I closed my fingers slightly, grasping some of threads gently. She leaned over me, her eyes looking at my face, almost as if she were memorizing it. The hand that was touching my cheek slipped into my hair, wrapping the strands around the slender fingers. She bent further still until her other hand was braced upon my right shoulder. I watched her as she bent lower, her lips grazing mine in the lightest of touches. Her lips were soft, warm, and smooth as they softly caressed my own with slightly more pressure. Her right hand slipped under my head as she gently urged me to sit up, her lips still touching mine. Finally I did as she did bid, and wrapped one hand around her waist, my hand meeting her smooth skin under the vest. She was not as slim as I thought she was, but she had a nice solidness about her that one could hold within both arms. My battered hand reached up to cup the back of her neck as I slanted my lips across hers. My left hand reached out, cupping her cheek and brushing my thumb across the soft skin. She pushed back slightly as a smile curved her lips. Her lips brushed against my unwounded cheek before she brushed her cheek against me, almost a kiss in itself. “Come,” she said softly. Her voice was melodic and soft, barely accented. “Let me tend to your wounds.” I nodded, making my way to my feet with a groan. I could scarcely believe it when her arm wrapped around my waist, offering support. I had to lean against her as I limped. My left ankle was not behaving properly for a warrior and that disappointed me. So concerned with watching my feet that I did not notice that we had already came to my chambers. Startled, I looked up into my room and up at Shinare. “I know where all Dai Masho sleep. I am not ignorant of my enemies.” “Am I your enemy?” I watched her as I spoke, seeing a sparkle come to her eyes. “Perhaps more deadly than the others.” With this, she set me down on my sleeping mat as she brushed her cheek against mine again. “Perhaps more so.” She laughed slightly as she walked into my small bathroom to retrieve the reserve of cut cloth for bandages and a small bowl of water. When she returned, I watched her move, her body gliding in an endless rhythm of beats that none but she could hear. “So I am more dangerous?” She smiled, her eyebrow arching up. “No. I did not say that. I stated that you are more deadly than the others. To me mostly.” She laughed quietly, a silken scarf down my skin. “It is through you I will find that which I seek.” My eyes watched her, narrowing slightly at that statement. “And what is it you seek?” She laughed quietly again, almost a sad sound really. “I cannot say. Only you hold this key.” Focusing on her, my eyes wandered her face and noticed the delicateness of the features. She was indeed very feminine, even in the way she fought. I am not saying that she was too feminine, but you knew when you fought her that she was female. She had that quality about her. My right hand reached out, brushing her honeyed hair out of her face as she cleaned and bandaged my arm. She started, her eyes wide as she looked at me. “A beautiful woman such as yourself in a place like this? Why are you here? I am sure there are better things you could have done rather than join Master Argo.” My fingers gently brushed against her face. Her eyes slowly came back to normal as she watched me. They became far away, almost as if she were turning inward. “I really had no choice in such things, Dai Oni Masho.” “Surely, you would be able to protest this?” She laughed that quietly sad laugh and smiled. “Not when fate forces your steps, Dai Oni Masho.” “Really?” I arched an eyebrow. “I did not realize that warriors allowed their path to be picked for them.” She laughed again, but this time it had a genuine quality. “Warriors always allow the person to whom they owe filial duty to, to pick their path. If you are loyal to your master, you will answer them unerringly. However, a master should know your limitations and not punish you for doing some good, even if you were not allowed to be there.” “True, but you have no loyalty that I know of to keep you here with Master Argo. Why do you stay?” “Why do you?” She shot back at me. “Master Argo helped me attain what I wished, to be the strongest warrior.” Her eyes hardened. “Oh, so you could kill innocent children.” I raised my hands in supplication. “I have not harmed one child.” I knew my own eyes were dark and hard. “I would wish nothing to happen to innocents.” “Then why do the troops who follow you attack helpless families and slaughter them?” Her eyebrow quirked up again. “This is what Master Argo wishes for me to do. However, I will not allow him to order me around. As for why I am here, what would you suspect?” My lips pulled down in a slight frown as I watched her. “I honestly do not know. However, I thought you might liked to tell me.” She watched me while something danced within her eyes before she reached out a trembling hand to place it against my cheek. The fingers of her left hand slipped through my hair, feathering it gently. “You are my key, and you just proved it.” She inclined her head, asking permission to sit beside me and I gave it. “Please, sit beside me and speak. I would like to understand if you would allow me.” Her eyes went a little wider as she sat beside me, her hand still upon my cheek. “Do you know your virtue, Dai Oni Masho?” My eyes narrowed slightly. “I did not know ones such as we had virtues. We are supposed to be blood thirsty warriors following our Master’s will.” “True, but you are not truly blood thirsty, are you? No, you are a noble warrior. Your virtue is what your soul is trying to tell you. The one thing that was gifted to you when you were created.” She reached out her left hand and drew something upon my forehead. “Your virtue, your redeeming quality is unerring loyalty to your master. That is the gift that comes with the yori of the Oni. It is the virtue of Spring for you, and nothing but a passing notion. Everything that you are is Spring, and in Spring lies your loyalty of your youth.” Her fingers traced my cheekbone and my eyelid, and then slid down to flutter a trace over my lips. After she was done with that, her hand rose and pulled a few strands of my hair forward. “Even your coloring is that of the Spring. Your hair is the color of cinnamon, and your eyes the color of slate. Your skin is a pale cream. All of these are the colorations that remind me of Spring.” She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around my neck before she lowered her face to my shoulder. Her lips whispered against my neck softly, almost as if I was not intended to hear it. “You will be my end, Sky Child.” |