Assassin

Pale, soft skin that has never been darkened by a full day of work underneath the sun. Delicate hands free of calluses that form after hours of repetitive labor. Smooth silky hair that could only be achieved by a dedicated servant’s careful care.

A lily.

“Prove it,” Shinsuke’s hand, which had landed on your waist to pull you away from a strayed blade, tugged you closer to his body.

Just moments ago, the cellar you had been trapped in was silent.

During one of your rare afternoon strolls into town, you were suddenly kidnapped. You didn’t know who was responsible for the order—your family too wealthy and renowned to ever have a shortage of enemies, but one thing was certain, whoever it was wished for your death.

“Kill him at midnight,” said the man with a scar as he gestured roughly in your direction.

Shinsuke’s eyes bore into yours.

“Make sure it’s clean and that no one touches him, the client wants a pretty body.”

Sheathing his sword at the additional order, Shinsuke tilted his head in your direction.

“I can’t kill him earlier?”

“At midnight,” the man with a scar reiterated. “And,” he eyed Shinsuke, face twisting in disgust. “Clean yourself up. You're filthy.”

“Understood.” Shinsuke’s eyes flitted to your cell again.

Pretty.

Shinsuke stared for a moment longer. Then, he set to accomplishing his new task.

Retrieving a basin of water, Shinsuke began to clean the blood off of himself. The feeling of the cloth, damp with cool water, against his skin in the summer heat was a welcome one, and by the time he was done, the clear water had become a deep red. Drying himself with another towel, he returned to your cell.

Already, several men had broken in.

That won’t do.

Stepping inside the cell, Shinsuke raised his arm, slicing off the arm of the first person who touched you. Then their leg. Their other arm was the next to go, followed by their other leg. Soon, blood flowed out endlessly from the torso on the floor. A ceaseless onslaught of screams tore out of its throat, filling the small cell as it tried to writhe around in agony.

Shinsuke’s lips pulled outwards and up.

“You can’t touch this one.” The tip of his blade crept under your chin, lifting your face for everyone else still in the cellar to see. “Find someone else to keep you company. He’s mine to kill at midnight.”

The men stared back wordlessly.

Then, they began to speak.

“They won’t know.”

They roused slowly from their state of shock and fear, voices growing in volume.

“He’s going to die anyway.”

Their grips tightened around the hilt of their sword.

"If we don't leave a mark, it doesn't matter."

Each spoken excuse and justification stoked the men’s desires until they had fully convinced that they were to have you no matter what. Their gazes focused on Shinsuke, the only obstacle between them and the object of their desire. Slowly, they drew their blades.

Shinsuke made no move to retaliate. His grip on his sword remained light, and as the men advanced—sensing no threat from him, it seemed that you would be left to their mercy. Your head spun. How could you keep yourself alive? As the sole male heir to the Kobayashi fortune, it was your duty to return home. You turned towards Shinsuke, meeting his gaze and smile that was fixed onto you. You weren’t oblivious to your own beauty—often receiving praise that claimed even the most expensive courtesan’s face paled in comparison to yours, perhaps...

“Marry me!”

Shinsuke’s eyes widened in surprise at the shout before they curved in amusement. Knelt on the floor with such a determined expression on your face, you could almost be mistaken for a devoted lover proposing to his future wife if you had a ring and unbound hands. A hot flush rushed through Shinsuke’s body when your gaze remained unwavering despite his stare, and he lowered down to your height—narrowly dodging the blade aimed at his neck.

“Would that make me the wife?” He whispered breathily, cheeks pink with excitement.

A swift thrust of his arm backwards drove his blade deep into the chest of an approaching assailant, causing blood to rain down over him.

“Prove it,” Shinsuke’s hand, which had landed on your waist to pull you away from a strayed blade, tugged you closer to his body.

“That you love me,” he whisked you out of another blade’s path, dying your robes crimson as his sword found its home in another man’s throat.

“With a kiss.”

Ignoring the screams and the pooling blood around his feet, Shinsuke pressed your foreheads together.

“Or was that proposal a lie?”