Sapphire Ambassadors

He sits, considering the letter he has written and is about to send off.

...I am moving to correct the matter, tending to my own house. The possibility of further contamination must be considered, however.

He seals the letter, summons one of his senior students. Strange to think that he has them, now, that he has been teaching long enough to have had students not only complete their gempukku but actually ascend in the teachings of the School.

It is a hollow comfort.

Yet the duty still must be done.

Sending the student off with firm instructions--"This goes to Shiro no Shosuro with all possible speed. When the guard asks, tell them you are coming from Painted City with a message regarding the background of a Noh production from 1132. You will be directed appropriately."--he rises, and he makes his way back to the home he shares with his beloved wife.

And she is his beloved, though he knows she does not feel the same way and never has. The incident with her brother, years before, and certain other signs...but she had done her duty and borne him children--twins, even!--and he would not gainsay her.

Nor would he turn aside from his own duty.

Better she should die by his hand than face what would happen otherwise.

He arrives.

"Hatsuki-chan," he says. "I am home."

It's all the more tragic because the changes have been slow emotional disruption, the way the shadows seemed to clung to her, just a little. Despite everything, too, she had warmed up to him over time, and had done her best to be a good friend, even if she didn't love him the way he did her.

Despite what crawled under her skin.

She went to the entrance when she heard his announcement that he was home, smiling as she always did in greeting. "Welcome home. I didn't expect you so soon. Did your duties give you some time to yourself?"

He enters, and, when the door is shut behind him, he takes off his mask.

Here, at least, he will not hide his face away.

For this, at least, he will show himself as he is.

"I'll have a lot more time to myself in the coming days, I think," he says. "How are the children?"

She's not wearing hers in the house, though her mask has never been her true mask. But even the makeup isn't on at the moment, her bare face a reminder that she's still only a 20-something former Crane maiden who was still a bit of a princess at times.

They were both facing each other as their true selves at the moment.

She smiled when he said he would have more time to himself, not realizing it might be just him. "They're doing well. Happy and healthy. They're playing in the garden as we speak. They were asking when you would be home the other day. I suppose I can give them good news."

"Maybe in a bit," he says.

"Perhaps first I should like to embrace my wife."

His voice is warm, and he spreads his arms wide for her.

With no reason to believe anything was amiss, she stepped into his arms and embraced him. "It's good to see you."

His arms close around her, one hand resting on the back of her head, the other arm wrapping around just above her obi.

And the blade of a thin knife slides in there, striking for the kidney.

"I'm sorry, Hatsuki. Truly."

His voice is husky with it, but his grip is firm, and the blade is so very, very sharp.

"Kuma... ji...?" The pain didn't register at first. Then it was everything, everywhere. She didn't feel his hand on the back of her head, just the searing pain in her back. It hurt too much to even scream. Only three thoughts made it through the haze.

Not, not like this! I don't want to die!

Why didn't I see this coming... I should have expected it...

I want to see Choudai and our children again.

The weather outside was a gathering storm, the clouds dark. Like his name, some distant part of her mind noted. It left their entryway wreathed in shadow. Maybe a little darker than they were before. Her hands groped for something to cling to, as if, if they could find something, she could cling to life. Her hands found a handle. She grasped it.

Had he been in front of her before? She could have sworn she was in his arms, but... It was just a threat. A threat in front of her that would kill her, that would keep her from seeing Choudai and her children again. She swung the blade, despite the pain that clung to her back.

There was a spray of blood. It hit her face, bringing her back.

Kumaji was in front of her, facing away now. A deep, red line crossed his back.

"... Kumaji...?" She repeated, weakly.

He does not stir, save to gurgle softly from bubbles along the line as it swells and spreads and spills onto the floor.

And even that does not last long.

"Mama?"

The voice comes from behind her, where two small figures stand.

"Papa?"

She shifted subtly, moving to make sure they didn't see the body, or the blood on her. They could probably still see the knife in her back and the spreading blood on her kimono... But it was dark, so maybe not. She turned toward them and gave a gentle smile, even as she grew more pale. Stepping over in front of them, she took up more of their vision, blocking the body of the man they knew as their father from view completely as she took their hands. "Chika, Tadashi. Please... Go outside and stay there with Satoko-san. Ask one of the servants to go get Bayushi Choudai-san, okay?"

Satoko was their caretaker. She could handle wrangling them a little while. Hopefully Choudai was nearby... Maybe he already knew that something was wrong.

She brushed a hand over both of their heads. "Papa and I love you both very much."

That was important.

She wasn't sure if she would have another chance to say it.

"...okay, Mama," comes the reply, and the children move off, looking behind them.

Their calls for Satoko and a servant are audible for a brief time.

The room darkens further.

Hatsuki reached back and pulled out the knife with a sharp gasp, bunching her kimono around the wound and retying her obi tighter around it. Then she dropped the knife and turned Kumaji over weak with what lowered strength she had, closing his eyes and just resting next to him.

"Get away from me..." She murmured into the darkness. It was quiet, but filled with conviction.

No more darkness.

It had done enough damage.

She could see it now...

She looked at the knife she can pulled out of her back.

This was why, wasn't it?

Maybe she shouldn't have defended herself. He had just been doing his duty in the end...

He had been devastated to get the summons... but he had been in the Painted City, almost expecting it. The connectio9n he and Hatsuki shared wasn't simply infatuation. They were linked.

Things had been going so well- Mikan was, well, as happy as she ever was- she'd even made some friends. His home life was tranquil, and if he didn't get to see Hatsuki or their children as often as he liked, well, that was just life, and nobody had ever said life was fair.

But he also knew, if he was being summoned to the home Hatsuki shared with her husband, in the middle of the day, no less, that there could be only one reason.

She'd told him, back in Teitaku, after all, of her fears. And he'd... felt it since.

A real Scorpion would have killed her then and there.

The voice- his own- tried to gnaw at him, but he had snarled it away.

And tried to ignore the weight of the tanto he carried.

It had cost him a great deal of money, and even then, his little brother had been forced to simply secure it when the other party tried to renegotiate the deal. He had regretted none of it.

And wouldn't regret it now.

The twins, male and female waited outside when he arrived. They weren't running around like their age dictated, but clinging to each other and their caretaker.

He may not have been ready for the scene when he opened the door to Hatsuki's soft, "Come in."

Kumaji dead on the ground, already rearranged to be lying on his back with his eyes closed. Hatsuki kneeling next to him, with some blood soaking through her obi, And the kimono around it looking dark and wet.

She looked up as he entered face pale, without makeup, wet with tears. Clinging to the shoe cabinet, she rose unsteadily to her feet.

"Choudai... I... I need you to look after them..." Her voice was weak from the loss of blood, and she was getting ahead of herself. Still, the fact that she was okay now meant she'd likely survive despite obvious severe injury.

She probably hadn't asked here here to get medical attention, though.

His mouth suddenly felt full of ashes.

She was hurt, but Kumaji was dead, and that meant...

Kumaji hadn't been a bad man. Choudai hadn't even resented him as such- the lucky bastard was just lucky.

Not so lucky anymore.

He had also loved his wife. So if she was injured... is he had tried to kill her? He had known.

Finally his brain processed what she was saying.

"Of course." His voice broke a little, just a little. "For you, anything."

His hand felt at the hilt of the tanto. If she looked scared, if she tried to ward him off, he knew he couldn't do it.

"I... didn't realize I was so far gone..." She said, probably a little too light-headed to focus much. "I was so shocked when I felt the knife, I just... defended myself." She looked down at Kumaji's body. "He deserved better."

She looked up at him as she leaned against the shoe cabinet for support to stand upright. She was going to at least try to be something of a samurai at the end.

"I love you. At least I got to tell Chika and Tadashi that I love them. I don't..." She sucked in a breath as the wrong shift made the stab wound hurt again. "I don't regret surviving to tell them that..."

She gave him a weak smile and met his eyes. "It's..." She took a deep, painful breath, not quite a sob. Certainly she wouldn't admit it was. She droop her hands to the side, defenseless. "Let's meet again in the next life. Maybe we'll get a better shot."

She blinked her bright blue eyes hard, tears spilling, and gave him a small smile. "Make it quick. In the heart. I don't want to risk hurting you."

"You could never hurt me, Hatsuki-chan."

The thing trying to take her over, of course, was something else, but he trusted her. She could do it, for the brief time it would take.

"I love you. And we'll meet again."

Time seemed to stand still for Choudai. He'd never been the best bushi- more of a poorly-trained courtier with a sword, if the truth were told, but he felt something like what his sensei had talked about, as the world fell away.

Meeting her, already too late, her hand already promised to another.

The hand that drew the tanto didn't feel like his.

Trying to save her in Naishou province, already too late, after that shadowspawn had struck.

The dim light in the room caught the crystal blade of the tanto.

Trying to have a family together, already too late, born too late.

He embraced her, holding her close as the blade snapped up and in, under her ribs. The crystal blade entered her heart and broke his.

Her face was human, no shadow on her, as he kissed her for the last time.

I wasn't too late.

She clung to him when he embraced her, knowing what was coming this time. It was a death grip of fear... but more for him than her, to occupy her hands so she wouldn't risk fighting. And to hold onto him, in what she knew was the last time... for this life, anyway.

It's okay. I'll see you again. You'll keep our children safe.

I love you.

It was her last thought. The only breath that followed was a soft death rattle. The tension vanished from her face, the fear, the pain. The only thing left was peace, finally.

Her lips didn't move as he kissed her.

He laid her down beside her husband, his tears flowing freely.

The part of him that would always be in the Painted City wanted to lie down and die beside her. Use the knife on himself, or his wakizashi. The part of him that would always be in Naishou wanted to set fire to the house around them both, burning all of the shadows away. The part of him that would always be in Teitaku wanted to curl up into a little ball and die. The part of him that would always mourn her wanted to leave his mask- the one she had designed for him- with her and just vanish.

The part of him that would always love her stopped him from doing any of those things.

Their children had lost their mother and the man they called father, and wouldn’t understand why.

He couldn’t afford stupid romantic gestures when he faced that reality.

Chika and Tadashi would need him, more than they ever could have in a better, more just world.

Despite the tears flowing down his face, Bayushi Choudai’s voice was calm and steady.

“Until our next life, Hatsuki-chan.”

He wiped the crystal tanto on her kimono, and left it beside her. The Clan could have it. Maybe give it to someone more skilled with a blade than he was to destroy the kinds of things that had brought Hatsuki to her fate. He knew his own hatred wouldn't be enough.

He removed his mask for a moment to wipe away his tears, putting it back on as he walked outside, heading toward to the children- his children. He knelt down. How much they'd grown... where did the time go?

"Chika, Tadashi? Do you remember me?"

They'd met from time to time- Hatsuki had seen to that. The twins nodded in unison. It would have been adorable under happier circumstances.

"Children, your old life is over now. It's okay to be scared by that. It means you're human. Bravery isn't not being scared, it's not letting the fear beat you, and I know you're both brave, like your Mama and your Papa. You'll be all right. Whatever happens, I'll be with you."

"Mama and Papa?" Tadashi's eyes- blue, like his mother's- said it all. He knew.

"Are they okay?" Chika. She knew as well.

Choudai let out a ragged sigh. "Your father tried to do the right thing, a good thing, to help your mother and the Clan. Your mother did too. But it cost them everything."

How strange it was, to be able to tell the truth.

Bayushi Choudai held his children close as they started to cry.