Notes: I didn't want to upload this originally but what the heck. About two months ago I wrote this because I was startled while watching the anime. Shishio kissing Yumi!? And Yumi dying for Shishio. They are both psychos in their own right and yet they do know what love is. Disturbing, but entrancing to consider all the same. So I just wrote. (And yeah, I did have a major mood swing just now but I feel better. Pure Angst/Dark fics aren't usually my style)

Of Love and Monsters

She watched him sleeping, occasionally a deep sigh escaping his lips, ruffling the silence. Softly she trailed her hand over his cheek and he nuzzled his face deeper into the silken cushions. She smiled. He was adorable. She would cut her own throat before she offered that opinion to him or anyone else that knew them but she could always keep it inside.

"And you're mine," she whispered softly. "All mine." In her life there had been precious little that she could call her own. Even her body had not been her own. Instead it had always gone to the highest bidder, the first buyer who had put her in a geisha house and used her to earn money in return. Life had been beautiful kimonos, heavy make-up, a reputation for being famously sought-after. Tears behind wooden screens night after night. It had hardly been any life at all. Until one night a terrifying bandaged man with acid coolness and arrogance had barged into the room, kicked out the odious businessman who had been trying to bed her and demanded that she attend to him instead.

Yumi had been afraid, but mostly curious. Eventually she grew to like the man. He came often, just to talk, to watch her with uncanny eyes that glowed crimson red. She knew from the rumours whispered in the house that Shishio-sama, as he had told her to address him, had warned her keepers that she was not to be given to anyone else except him. "Or else," she recalled fondly. She had felt so protected when she heard that he had used those specific words.

She was his. He had made that very clear one night while they were together. "Why would you want me?" she had asked and he laughed. Naïve, he called her. "We're the same kind, Yumi. We know what it's like to be unhappy, to be used by a hypocritical system that claims to bring freedom and peace. People like us get swept under the carpet and out the door if they have their way."

"Shishio-sama ..."

"What I'm saying is that you understand me. And I understand you." He pinned her with his eyes and she nodded. She did believe his words. She knew what he was, a rebel, a killer and a man that no woman in her right mind would love. But Yumi had never been a typical woman. And he was the first man to give her something. Usually the men did all the taking, leaving money in their wake. Shishio Makoto had given her respect, especially after he had heard how hard she had had to scheme and plot just to become one of Japan's top geishas. "Smart woman. Getting into a position of power is the only way to live," he had commended.

They left together that night. No one had dared to stand in his way and she had felt so proud.

Yumi looked over her lover's sleeping face. He had been a handsome man once. She could tell from his features, a firm strong chin, high nose and deep set eyes. But the Meiji government had disfigured him beyond all hope of medical repair. She could only imagine the agony he had been through. There was much that Shishio-sama would not tell her, but he allowed her to share his pain. Only she saw the painful gasps and harsh controlled breaths that he uttered at times when his body felt like fire. The doctor was summoned but only to give advice and medicine. Shishio-sama allowed no one but her to touch him.

Yet for all those facts she still felt so useless. Especially in these days. Chou had arrived in Kyoto. Seta Soujirou had been sent out to gather the remaining Juppon Gatana for the beginning of Shishio-sama's vengeance. The monk Anji. Iwanbo, whom Shishio had recruited in spite of his resounding lack of intelligence. Honjo Kamatari ...Yumi's face twisted in disgust. She couldn't believe that the young cross-dresser had the nerve to actually compete with her for Shishio-sama. And he knew about it, she thought accusingly. It merely amused him, knowing that she could get jealous although she knew he would not be unfaithful.

'But still, at least the silly fellow can do something constructive for you,' she thought sadly. 'What can I do?' Shishio-sama brought her everywhere with him, it was his unspoken way of keeping her involved in every aspect of his life but there were times when she felt like a vase: pretty but of no practical use. If Soujirou had not been with Shishio-sama that day, Saitou Hajime and maybe even Battousai Himura might have attacked him together. And she would not have been able to help him in anyway.

Sliding past him, Yumi pulled on her yukata and, fluffing out her hair, slipped out of the room. She wanted to go outside but Shishio-sama had expressly forbidden it unless he was with her. She stood in the hallway, unsure of where to go next when suddenly a hand slipped around her wrist and she was hauled up against a warm, lean body.

"Where were you going?" he asked softly, without any malice or wariness. "And what is wrong?"

"I thought you were sleeping," she said weakly, trying to dodge the question. Shishio-sama gave her a sharp look and proceeded to pull her back to the room. "

Evasion doesn't become you Yumi," he remarked. With sudden swiftness he scooped her up in his arms and laid her on the bed, following her down, trapping her with his weight. Tears stung her eyes but she kept them back. What if Battousai or something, something wrong happened to take him away? She would never have this again.

"Shishio-sama," she murmured, "I was just wondering ...if there was anything else that needed to be done. If I could be of service in any way."

An absolutely sinful smile curled his lips and he pushed the yukata off her shoulder, stroking her skin. "As far as I'm concerned, you are already very much in service to me."

On any given day she would have laughed at that wicked insinuation, a private joke between lovers. But not this day. "Is that all I'm good for?" she burst out before turning away.

Shishio's eyes narrowed. Yumi was truly upset. "You think you aren't useful to me."

"I know I'm not useful," she muttered sourly. "Look at me. I do nothing. Soujirou is busy gathering your forces, Houji is plotting and organising the ninjas. Even Chou is out there doing something-"

"Yumi," Shishio interrupted, "In case you haven't noticed, you're the only one I keep constantly at my side."

"I'm the only one not earning my keep. Imagine if any of the rest did nothing but sit around all day. You'd probably kill them."

"Of course. But the thing is, they need me to help organise them into mounting an insurrection against the Meiji weaklings. I picked them. I don't need them."

"But..." Yumi fell silent as his words penetrated the doubt surrounding her. He didn't need them. He could choose to get rid of them. But he kept her because ... "Oh." He was telling her in his own fashion that he needed her.

"And Yumi, if you were half as useless as you think you are, I wouldn't have given you a second look. You have your limitations, as I have mine." He was referring to the fifteen-minute limit imposed on him by the doctor. He had been so enraged by it, had called it an insult to any half-baked swordsman, not to mention a master assassin. No one but her shared that secret. "But you do your best for me and not once have you considered your limits when I give you a task. That's good enough. I put my people to different uses, according to what they do best."

"And just what do I do best?" she smiled, fingers smoothing the rough skin of his neck.

"I know I can trust you."

"You know you can trust Houji too."

"Houji serves me for what I can give him: a dream. For you, I am the dream."

Yumi blinked and Shishio smiled again. "Woman, you want me for me." She had been the only person who had not been scared speechless by his appearance. There had been no revulsion, no disgust in her eyes when she looked upon him. If there was one soft spot in his life, she was it. And Yumi was so strong, so determined not to be his weakness. What a pity she had not learned any fighting arts. He could only imagine what a lovely dangerous creature she would be.

"Thank you, Shishio-sama." It was the most romantic speech he had given her. However, she had to settle something first. "But you must promise me one thing. Just one thing."

"What is it?"

"Should there be a time when I can do something for you, regardless of what it is or what is required ...will you let me? You won't stop me?" It was not so much a question as a plea, a very earnest and sincere plea made out of love and loyalty.

"Very well."

Completely satisfied, Yumi settled in his arms and promptly fell asleep. But Shishio remained awake, wondering what had prompted her to ask such a thing of him. There was nothing that she would not do for him. He would just have to make sure that no such occasion or need presented itself to her. He intended to rule Japan no matter what. But without Yumi...it would be lonely.

** "I have something for you to do Yumi ..."

After she left to await the arrival of Saitou, Himura and Sagara, Shishio turned to Houji who remained with him.

"I seriously doubt that they will listen to the rules or her."

"I'm not asking for your opinion on that." Houji bowed and waited. "I'll be fighting Battousau Himura later. Don't look so startled," he said wryly as Houji looked at him in shock. "Aoshi and more importantly, Soujirou, are formidable opponents. But I have a feeling that Battousai will make it through to me. Just as well. I do yearn to best him and show him what rubble his new era is built upon. It will be the last thing he thinks of when I take his worthless, dishonoured life."

"I have no doubt about that Shishio-sama."

"As promised, you will be by my side when I have my victory. It will be yours to taste as well. But there is something else that you must do for me."

"What is it?" Houji looked slightly perplexed. His advisor was obviously piqued that he had not anticipated this next request.

"Later during the fight, I want absolutely no interference. No matter what happens," Shishio enunciated with weighted emphasis. The words implied a veiled threat of punishment if he were to be disobeyed. "However, I did make a promise to Yumi and I cannot break my word. But I want you to ensure that she remains out of harm's way and that she does not get involved. Understand?"

"Hai, Shishio-sama. I will see to it."

**

He was dying. His body had turned traitor, collapsing on him. Immeasurable pain ripped through his flesh, threatening to splinter him apart even as he tore at his chest in a futile attempt to ease the pain. That howling, the screams of a maddened beast were coming from him.

"Matte, Yumi!" Houji was shouting somewhere in the background and Shishio regained a slight measure of conscious thought.

If he had had the strength he would have screamed at her to get back. But he couldn't. He sensed her frantic flight to him, smelt the whiff of her perfume and then the bright colours of her kimono exploded before his eyes, shielding him from his predecessor. 'Yumi ...' he thought dully even as the pain receded.

"Don't hurt him anymore! He's already exceeded his limits! ..." She hoped that he remembered his promise to her. There was no way he could mistake her intention to buy him some time, a way to victory. He knew her too well to think she would insult his honour by begging the enemy from mercy.

If Battousai Himura were a real man he would push Yumi aside and be done with it. 'Do it!' Shishio willed him. 'Do it...' The sound of Battousai's lowered blade turned Shishio's unconscious prayer into a curse ... 'Damn your weakness. You'll pay for this Battousai.'

"You're too innocent Battousai."

Gripping his sword, Shishio lunged forward. He didn't have to look to make a clean strike; it came naturally to him. Metal pierced through her chest, somewhere above her heart. A fatal wound that promised no instant death. Perhaps he had deliberately done it, to keep her alive for a few moments more. Either way both she and Battousai were mortally wounded. It seemed like eternity as she stayed upright, skewered on the sword of the man she loved and who loved her in return. Then with a ragged effort he yanked the blade back, his fingers dropping it without a second thought as he reached out and caught his lover as she collapsed in his arms. The emerald beads that held her hair up broke, scattering on the bloodstained ground around them. It had been a gift from him.

"Shishio Makoto, how could you do it? How could you betray your beloved?!" Battousai screamed as he fell to the ground.

'Betray her? If I hadn't done it, that would have been a betrayal you ignorant bastard.'

"Don't judge me according to your standards, Battousai," he ground out. "I know Komagata Yumi better than anyone else in this world. And she knows me better than anyone else as well." As he spoke, Shishio lifted his hand, cupping her face so that they could see her happiness. He knew she was happy even though her life was ebbing away, bleeding itself out on his chest as he held her to him. They should see her sacrifice. She deserved that much. It turned out that her last words were a defence of his actions, an explanation of her great affection. Saitou actually looked impressed and Shinomori, strangely enough, understanding. Only that idiot Himura had protested.

"Shishio-sama," she whispered, taking his hand. "You must win now." Her eyes glistened as they spoke the words she had no energy to include. 'I did it, my darling. I surpassed my limits, just like you. I actually helped in battle.'

'I know. I'm proud of you.' And he was. Truly.

She smiled and the tears squeezed out, staining her cheeks, illuminating her radiance. "I have to go first. Remember, I'll be waiting for you." And then her fingers slipped from his hand and her arm dropped onto her gown, her body heaving one last breath before it stilled. But her heart beat slowly against him as he continued holding her, the empty shell that was left of Yumi.

"What's the happiness in dying? What's the meaning?" Battousai was raving in response to Houji's comment. And then blood gushed from between his fingers and the man collapsed flat on the ground, quivering as he attempted to get up.

Battousai. He would pay for this. Yumi had paved the way for his new era with her life. He would not fail her. "It is time. The first one to get up and strike the first blow is the victor!" Shishio willed his body to stand. He must win now. He had to.

**

The place was dark and gloomy. Bones crunched beneath his boots but the air was cool, without smell or scent. He knew she was here somewhere. What would she say when she saw him?

"Shishio-sama!" Crimson folds whirled as she stood up, bewildered to see his familiar figure coming over from a distance. Without thinking she picked up her skirts and ran to him. She never stopped until she was able to hold him, to feel his arms around her.

He opened his mouth to speak but she silenced him with a kiss. "It's alright. I saw everything. Time was not on our side."

If their positions had been reversed he didn't know if he would have been so forgiving. "Yumi..."

"We're together again," she said firmly. "And this time, there is no limitation on you here."

Her brow arched and he began a chuckle that turned into a full-fledged laugh that rang through the air. His arm snaked around her shoulders and he hugged her to him, this woman who was truly his in every way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Comments: Thanks to Tenshi, I decided to change the title. You are right; the title was a little half-hearted. (lazy Gracey!!) I think this one suits it better and I hope everyone catches the irony of it...the latter half at any rate.