I don't acknowledge his existence, even when his arms wrap around me. "Are we playing this game, again?" he taunts. When he gets no answer, he playfully nips at my earring--Aya-chan's earring. That gets him a response. I glare at him before dismissively tossing my head. He chuckles, gives the jewelry a little more attention and moves on to my neck--a sensitive spot. I gasp and arch back against him. When he licks a drop of sweat that had fallen into the junction of my shoulder, all I can do is shudder. Damn him for knowing my weak points.

"Turn around, Aya." I obey immediately, submissively giving him myself. Sometimes I fight against the inevitable. In the end, though, it is all the same. I surrender everything to him.

An unbidden thought comes to mind. I think I would do anything for him.

This sudden knowledge causes me to back away from him. When did I ever start thinking that way? When had I let him have too much? I back up two more steps, and watch him warily. If I don't he might steal more than I want to give.

"Where are you going?" He teases.

Nowhere. I turn towards the window, away from him, staring out into the balmy night, at the harvest moon high overhead. I suppose it doesn't matter. I've given almost everything else to him. I can't deny him anything. All I've managed to do is break the mood. I need to do something that will fix it, something that will make him pounce. A while ago, I might have blushed with shame at such a thought. Not anymore. No, I'm being practical now. I know I need this--dare I say, I almost like it?--and I'm no good at pouncing, I'm not an aggressor. That's what Yohji's for.

I run a hand through my hair, making him take notice of it. He likes my hair, I found out. Likes it almost to the point of obsession. I don't however, and it shows in the way that I just hack it off when it grows too long. It's too bright, brings too much attention. When he gripes it though, when he's in the heat of passion, my hate for it turns into gratefulness, a love. I smile crookedly. The heat must really be getting to me, to think that I have a love/hate relationship with my hair.

See what I do for you, Yohji? For you I would do anything, even learn to love myself.

He comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face in my hair. He starts to sway, dancing to unheard music. He always does this but I don't mind because, in my head, I hear the same tune. It's sad, melancholic and slow. Lately, though, it's taken on a new, underlying chord. I don't quite know what it is, only that it makes me feel...almost...content.

I don't want this. Or do I? To be content--happy, even--simply by being held in his arms. Am I falling for him? Maybe I am, maybe I already have. But I can't afford to be. I have too many things to do, to many people to kill, Aya-chan to avenge.

I have to get away from him before I give him too much of myself. I pull away from his embrace but his arms tighten around me. "Don't go," he whispers. "Stay with me, Aya."

I sigh and then smile sadly. Like I have a choice. He has my heart wrapped around his little finger. He could do anything to me--hurt me, kill me...love me and I wouldn't care, just as long as it was him. But he don't know that.  I turn in his arms to face him, which he takes immediate advantage of. His kiss sends electric shivers down my spine. No, no choice at all.

"How long?" he asks. "How long will you stay?" A night, a year, forever. Pick one, Yohji. It's for you to decide. He whispers his next comment, quiet and sincere, a question caused by his pain. "How long will this last?"

How long will this last? A good question, that. How long will I be able to hold him, to keep him near me? Will he be ripped from my side like everyone else? Everyone I have ever loved has been taken away from me. I don't want to love again. It hurts too much. All I want is Aya-chan--my hope--no one else. So why, why, why did I ever let him touch me? I should have pushed him away the first time, no matter how much I had needed it. It would have spared me much in the long run.

But I'm stupid like that. No matter how much I try to be emotionless, I just can't be, something will crack or there will be a flaw in my armor. A flaw that people like him can easily exploit. It's fate, destiny, a curse.

So, how long will this last? I don't know. But I'll keep it as long as I can.