#manslayer's mouse

For the past several hours, you had been sitting with Kamazo on the floor, leaning against him and holding one of his hands between yours. You stroked his palm with your thumb, noticing how small your hands were compared to his. His skin was rough and criss-crossed with silvery scars, a map of the life he lived. If you were a part of that map, you weren't enough to leave a mark. You were a freckle on his skin and he was a full-thickness burn on yours. You would never be as significant to him as he was to you, and you knew that. You had known that for a while. 

It was going to wound you deeply to let him go, but you were only causing him pain by forcing him to cling to this temporary life. Kamazo had promised to take care of you, and you worried that he was only struggling internally because of that. Killer was there and Kamazo was beating him back to keep his promise. Keeping Kamazo here would only torment him. You didn't want him to hurt anymore, to struggle anymore. You wanted to return him to his real family, where he belonged. He never belonged to you. You were a placeholder until he found his people again, a temporary comfort in his temporary world.

You moved to straddle his lap, taking his head in your hands again. "Kam?"

His eyes floated to yours, looking but not seeing. 

"Kamazo." 

The blue of his eyes brightened for a second. 

"Kam!"

"Sparrow..." 

You threw your arms around his neck, and couldn't stop the tears from coming. "I love you." 

Kamazo hugged you back, resting his head on your shoulder. He held you until your tears began to slow. His hand stroked your hair and rubbed your back in a comforting gesture. Even your own shoulder was slightly damp. 

"K-Kam. You have to let go." Your voice was raspy from crying. "Let me go. Your family needs you."

"You are my family." 

"We both know that's not true." Tears stung your eyes again. "It's okay, Kamazo. I've always known."

"I can't leave you on your own." He laughed anxiously.

"You have to." You gently pressed your lips to his. "....you have to."

"I made a promise." Kamazo kissed you back.

"I'm not the only one you made promises to."

Kamazo rested his forehead on your shoulder for a long time. 

"I'll be okay." You knew that was a lie. It was a necessary one. He likely knew it was, too, but it would make it easier to give up the idea of you. "Our time together was short, but I'll remember it until the day I die. I need you to know that." Those words were not lies. "Kam, you've given me so much. More love than I knew to exist. And that's enough for me. But you, you have so much more to live for, as Killer."

Kamazo picked his head up and stared into your watery eyes. He brought you into his chest in a tight hug, kissing the top of your head. When he released you, he clasped the back of your neck with his hand and kissed you deeply. Your lips moved together in an attempt to exchange enough love to last a lifetime. It was a passionate dance of lips and tongues. If Kamazo was going to let you go, he was going to make sure every inch of your skin would feel his lingering touch. No one would ever touch you in a way that mattered again. 

Every action was slow and deliberate. You were each trying to burn the moments into your minds as a keepsake. Neither of you wanted to forget, yet one of you had to. The memory would be like a thorn to you, a small painful reminder that was embedded in your body. Kamazo loosened the tie around your ruined clothing, letting the top half slip down your shoulders. His eyes memorized the curves of your body. His hands studied the softness of your skin and the way your body reacted to his touches. His features softened and he let out a sad laugh as his hands ran down the sides of your stomach. The back of his knuckles gently rubbed the almost imperceptible mound there. 

"I wanted this life with you. To take care of you." 

"You did. You did take care of me." You mustered a smile for him. 

The actions became more fervent and desperate as time wound down. You didn't have the luxury of time. You kissed Kamazo, putting the threats from his captain to the back of your mind. It was clear what you both wanted. Kamazo adjusted his clothes and pulled you down onto him. A heady sigh left your mouth as you were finally filled with him. You wanted to be intimately connected with him forever. In this moment, you were one being, and where you were connected felt like pure heat, not a burning heat, but a warm, loving heat. When you were with him in this way, it felt like everything would be okay.

You rocked your hips against Kamazo in the way he taught you to. All you ever wanted to do was please him, especially now, when it was your last chance to show him how much you cared for him and how grateful you were to him. You leaned back to give Kamazo access to your neck. He grabbed your throat with one hand, while the other was gripping your hip and guiding your motions. There was something about his hand on your throat that was thrilling. You knew he could end your life at any second, yet he chose not to. He was choosing to keep you. Belonging to him gave you purpose. And you wanted to experience that one more time. After this, you would have no purpose. 

Kamazo nipped at your throat. He kissed up the side of your neck and licked the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Then his mouth trailed over your skin where he bit and sucked at everything he could reach. He marked you as his with purple and red blossoms across your breasts and over your neck and shoulders. With every new mark, your breathing grew heavier. Instead of your hips rocking on him, he was thrusting up into you. Your hips and thighs were decorated with blue-purple petals from his fingertips digging into your form. There was a searing, hot feeling in your lower abdomen that had been building over time. When Kamazo fucked into you, it stoked that fire until it couldn't be contained. You let out a wanton cry as the heat swept through your body until it was just a tingle at your fingertips. Kamazo greedily kissed you, swallowing your cries and keeping them for himself. Feeling your pleasure wrap around him, he came with a groan. You could feel his cock twitch inside and his cum leak onto your thighs. 

You stayed in each other's arms, still connected, for as long as you could. You knew your time was up when you heard faint yelling somewhere on the ship. You held Kamazo's cheek in one hand and gave him one last kiss. 

"Thank you. For everything."

All he could do was laugh, the tension being too stressful for him to say anything. 

"Goodbye, Kam. You can let go now." 

You fixed your clothes, pulling them back over your shoulders and tying everything in place. Your thighs were sticky, and you were trying to keep them together to keep any more of his cum from dripping down your legs. You hurried towards the door, unwilling to turn around for one last glance. If you did that, you knew neither of you were going to be able to give up. You rushed out and closed the door behind you, bursting into tears instantly. 

The captain came down shortly after, yelling something at you, but you didn't hear it. Someone was holding your arms to keep you from going anywhere. Part of you hoped Kamazo held on, even though you knew what would happen to you if he did. It hurt too much to know you were alone now. There were two voices coming from the room, only one of which you recognized. Kamazo had let Killer in. All that was left of him was his laugh. 

The captain came out of the room by himself, turning his attention to you.

"Aren't ya lucky... Killer's back in his own mind." He ran a nail under your chin. "Too bad. I thought we were gonna have fun with ya. If I ever see ya again or ya try to interact with Killer, I'll skin ya alive and I'll do it real slow, right in front of him, so he knows you're good and dead. I should kill ya now, but I'm a man of my word." He addressed Heat. "Take her as far away as possible. He can't see her face again."

"Where is she?"

"Where is who?" 

"T-that girl I was with."

"There was no girl, Killer."

"Did you do something to her?"

"THERE WAS NO FUCKIN GIRL. YA HAVE US. YA DON'T NEED A FUCKIN GIRL."

Killer grabbed his head as a sharp headache hit him. It happened every time he tried to remember anything from the gap in his memory. He knew there was a girl. He could almost see her face. Every time he got close to picturing it, he could feel himself being lost to Kamazo. Being two people took a toll on him. He felt like throwing up when his mind spun back and forth between them. If he could just merge Kamazo with himself, he could remember everything that happened to him. He wanted to remember, even though it would hurt. There was something nagging him. He had a sense of responsibility for this person he couldn't remember. In his dreams he could see his hands over her stomach and flashes of a little blonde boy running around on the ship. 

"Kil, are ya okay?"

Killer touched his nose and his hand came away with blood. "It's the headaches again."

Kid angrily slammed his fist down on the table, muttering curses at someone who wasn't here.

In the days that followed, you struggled to survive. The man that took you away from the ship was at least nice enough to leave you with some food. Since then, you had scavenged and tried to find anyone that would take pity on you, trying to focus on survival as much as possible, instead of the deep loss in your heart. Today, that happened in the form of the Beast Pirates. They gave you a once-over and decided to take you to Onigashima for the big party that was about to happen. They promised you as much food as you wanted in exchange for your company. Of course, you didn't realize what they had meant at first. You were so hungry, though, you weren't thinking straight. As soon as they started drinking, they got progressively more handsy. You were lucky they were lightweights. They passed out not long after they started drinking and you were able to slip away.

Then all hell broke loose. There was fighting everywhere in a matter of minutes. You were frozen in fear, knowing you couldn't do anything to defend yourself. An image of Kamazo flashed across your mind, telling you to run and hide. That was the one thing you could do and the one thing you were good at. You ran into a nearby building, and continued running through hallways until you found a small gap in the walls. Then you tucked yourself back into it as far as you could go, where no one could see you. You were good at disappearing, being diminutive, being nothing. 

That worked for a while. The ground shook and there were a lot of loud noises happening around you. There was fighting everywhere. You could hear it. It stayed far away for now. A few men ran through the hallway you could see from your hiding spot. Out of habit, you went to pull out your wooden mouse to hold it. It had always comforted you. You had forgotten it had been destroyed though. You wished you had one thing to remember Kamazo by. There was nothing. Even the clothes he had given you were ruined and had to be discarded. Once the tendril had invaded your thoughts, you couldn't stop thinking about Kamazo. He dominated your thoughts. You sobbed, the noise drowned out by everything happening around you. He always came back for you, but not this time. 

You had either fallen asleep or entered a semi-conscious state after you wore yourself out with full-body sobs. Thick, black smoke roused you as it stung your throat and your lungs. You couldn't even open your eyes fully because of the sting. You got as low as possible and crawled to the hallway, hoping to get fresh air. You only got a few clean breaths before smoke filled this space, too. Through blurry vision, you could see flames licking at the walls and ceiling. The whole building was on fire. You attempted to stifle a coughing fit by breathing through the fabric of your sleeve. 

The floor shook. You thought it was the impending collapse of the hallway. The embers floated down. Then pieces of the ceiling and walls. They started catching on your clothes, glowing at first, then burning. You could hear yourself screaming as the flames ate away at your clothes and began to eat at your skin. You frantically tried to slap the flames away, to snuff them out. Every scream was more frantic and every breath threatened to end your life with the poison in the air. The vibrations of the floor stopped and a shape bent down to investigate you. 

"Well, well. We have ourselves a mouse. Didn't I tell ya what would happen if I saw ya again?" The shape's laugh boomed through the hall, what was left of it. "I'm a man of my word."

The shadow leaned on one of the walls as it creaked. The weight made it crumble under his touch, causing the burning rubble to bury you. Only darkness and his sinister laugh surrounded you. The flames had burned through your skin. You could no longer feel the pain because the nerves had been melted away with your flesh. Air became thinner as the oxygen was consumed by the fire. Your throat was swollen, and threatening to close, from the burning air being sucked into your lungs. Was it the asphyxia that would take you? Would it be the fire itself, burning you to ash? Or the weight of the rubble, crushing you? Maybe you should be grateful. You would be free from the memory of Kamazo. 

"Goodbye, little mouse."

If you want the angsty ending, congrats you've finished the fic!

If you want the happy ending, click here.

Kamazo spoke more often to you over the course of the next few weeks. It wasn't much more often, but it was something, mostly small courtesies like "hello", "goodbye", and "thanks". He never answered your questions, never explained himself. It was more like he didn't know the answers rather than purposefully avoiding the questions, although some of it was definitely avoidance. When he was feeling particularly chatty, he would ask what you would like to eat. You were still confused on your role with him and what you were to him, but you learned not to dwell on it. You were feeling better than you had ever felt. You were never hungry. You had never had any fat on your body and this was the most filled out you had ever been. You actually had energy for once in your life and had enough meat on your bones to keep you warm at night. It was wonderful. 

Whenever Kamazo came back from his excursions, you were waiting for him patiently. You took his scythes from him and cleaned them. You helped him take his hair down and brush it out. You helped him disrobe and clean the blood spots from his tanned skin. If you had gone with him, you would do the same thing when you both returned to wherever you were staying at the time. The only difference between whether you went with him or not was where he fucked you. If you went with him, he didn't wait until you were back. He took you in any semi-secluded spot he could find. He always had this wild look in his eyes whenever he killed and it only dissipated after he manhandled you. And even though he was rough with you then, afterwards he was gentle, apologetic you might think. 

Kamazo started bringing you more than just clothes and small trinkets. He caught you drawing your little mouse sculpture in the dirt while you were waiting for him once, so he brought you back a small bundle of papers and some charcoal. When you ran out of those, he brought you a few paints and some more paper. Sometimes he sat beside you and watched. To show your gratitude, you made a small picture of him. That was the first time he truly got angry with you, and the first time he spoke more than a few words at a time. Kamazo made it clear that you were never to depict his face or anything about him ever again. It scared you. He scared you.

You didn't get gifts for some time after that, but when you did, they were even nicer. Kamazo had even drawn a little mouse on the top of the next bundle of papers gave to you as a semi-apology, or that's how you interpreted it anyway. He knew how much you treasured the little mouse he had given you. He seemed to especially like when you sat at the table and drew as he prepared dinner or when he pulled you into his lap and watched over your shoulder as you drew. This was one of those nights. You were comfortably in his lap with a full stomach, balancing your precious few papers on your knee while you sketched. The small square canvas filled up with little doodles of mice. You bounced slightly as Kamazo let out an amused sigh, almost a chuckle.

"Mice?"

"I like them." You said your thoughts aloud. "Quiet. Small. Unassuming. Like me."

"Hm."

"Yes?" 

You were surprised he said anything at all. 

"You're not a mouse."

"No?"

"You're a sparrow: resilient, adaptable, loyal."

You had nothing to say. He really thought that of you? You leaned back and rested your head on his shoulder to look at him. You liked when he was like this. His blue eyes were calm and held some unexplainable melancholy. The darkness wasn't in him then. Without thinking, you leaned in and kissed him. Maybe it was the blue of his eyes that had grown to be familiar or maybe it was the words you took to be kindness. 

"I- I don't know why- sorry."

He looked just about as shocked as you did. You hastily put your papers together and grabbed your drawing tools before getting out of his lap. It was time for bed anyway. Neither of you spoke another word about it, not then and not for the next fews days either. You continued to be his shadow, hiding while he went off to do his work. Sometimes it wasn't so much hiding as it was just sitting somewhere quiet and waiting for him to return. In the meantime you would keep yourself occupied with your art. He even let you have the small blade on occasion, just in case you needed to defend yourself. Then, when he returned, you would show him what you made. That usually happened after he had taken you, when the darkness subsided. You hadn't always shown him. One day he wanted to see, so you kept showing him from then on, excited that he wanted to see your art. 

When he returned, it was still dark, but you could tell, even in the low light, that he was covered in blood, more blood than a simple wash basin could handle. He had left you to sit under a tree. You were outside the town again, heading north. You got up from your huddled position. It was beginning to get cold, especially frigid at night. Kamazo led you back to your current camp to pack it up, then brought you further into the forest. Shortly after, you came upon a natural hot spring.

Without a word, Kamazo stripped down and got into the water. As you were accustomed to, you started cleaning his blades, painfully aware of how many times your eyes clung to his muscular back. After the first time he fucked you, the first few times really, you were somewhat reassured that he wasn't lying when he said he wouldn't kill you. He got fairly rough with you, made you black out a few times, but he didn't permanently harm you. Although it wasn't your choice, especially not the first time, you began to enjoy it, or you convinced yourself that you enjoyed it, wanted it, to make it easier. You wondered what it would be like to be his lover. Would it be different? Would he be softer? You could tell there was a different side to him that you didn't get to see. You knew nothing about him. He might have a real partner somewhere in the world. You were only a concubine while he was away from this person. You wouldn't allow yourself to desire anything more than that. You could never be good enough to be someone's wife, lowborn and destitute.

You watched him rub the dried blood from his skin, tinting the water pink, though you couldn't see it in the dark. He was so muscular that he had a difficult time reaching his back. You finished with his scythes and sat behind him, pulling your clothes up past your knees so they wouldn't become wet. Your legs were on either side of him in the water. You moved his hair over his shoulder so you could see what places still needed to be washed. 

"Let me help." You added, "Just don't lick my feet again."

Kamazo laughed. Whether it was true or forced by the fruit, you didn't know. The sound that used to unnerve you had started to bring some consolation instead. When you had gotten all the blood cleaned from him, your hands traveled over his tanned skin. There were a few tight areas that you focused on massaging away. He didn't protest. You even earned a few relaxed sighs as you worked the knots out. Kamazo had gotten most of the blood out of his hair by himself so you didn't worry about that. 

The water looked warm the way steam floated off the surface. The parts of you that weren't in the water were getting cold. Stripping quickly, you made the decision to get in also. You got into the water as fast as you could, both because it was freezing to be nude and because you could feel Kamazo's eyes on you. It didn't matter how many times you were bare in front of him. It still embarrassed you. He always looked too hard, too closely at you. It was obvious what was so captivating to him. Ever since you put on weight, he loved to bury his face in your stomach, or squeeze your thighs, or suck on your tits. 

You settled into the water's warm embrace. It felt so good on your aching body. Keeping up with Kamazo was hard work. Your back hurt and your chest was sore, which you attributed to Kamazo's unrelenting attention. You sat slightly away from him, not wanting to impede on his space. He had missed a few spots in the front of his hair, you noticed. Kamazo was intently watching you stare. 

"Sorry... You have blood in your hair." 

He wiped at a few places. 

"No. You missed." 

After another try, you moved in front of him. 

"I'll get it." 

You pinched some strands between your fingers and slid down the hair, removing the remaining gore from his golden locks. You made the mistake of locking eyes with him this closely. They were their normal beautiful blue selves, but the light of the moon made them so clear. The darkness that clouded them so often was absent. There was a softness in them that made your heart beat faster. That urge overcame you again, and you closed the distance between you both. This time you didn't apologize after you kissed him. 

Kamazo didn't flinch. In fact, he seemed to be waiting for you to decide what you were going to do now. What were you going to do now? What were you doing? This was the man you wanted to be with, not the man with darkness. This one made you feel safe and special and cared for: loved. You leaned in again, kissing him. He kissed you back, pulling you into his lap to straddle him. Your hands went into his hair, wandered over his neck and his chest with this new permission to touch. Similarly, his own hands groped you, but in a much gentler way than he normally did, actually taking the time to appreciate every fold and curve. He had you stand up on your knees so he could reach your tits with his mouth. He didn't bite this time, only kissing and sucking the soft skin, gently playing with your nipples with his hand or his tongue. You gazed at him with lust-filled eyes and pink-dusted cheeks. 

"Please," you breathed. 

He freed you from his grip, surprising you. You thought he would lead, but he seemed to be giving you the chance to do what you wanted. You sat back in his lap and stroked him from root to tip, watching his expression turn into one of pleasure. You could feel how slick you were getting, and knew you didn't;t need much in the way of prep. You lined him up with yourself and gradually lowered yourself onto him, letting the head push between your folds. Bouncing slightly, you worked your way down, until he was completely inside you. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and began to move your hips. Slowly at first, savoring the fullness you felt, you rode him. Then the pure pleasure took grip of you and you sped up, already feeling the heat pool in your stomach. He groaned in response feeling your walls twitch around him. It felt too good for him not to grab your hips and help you with the pace. Soon, he was slamming your hips down on his own, essentially using your body to jerk himself off. The water around you was choppy from all the movement. Between each other's moans, you were fervently kissing, tangling tongues and sucking on each other's lips. Your moans grew more high pitched and your breathing turned into pants. Your legs were jelly from bouncing yourself in his lap and he was doing much of the work now, helping you bounce. The pressure in your lower abdomen was building. 

"Kam-azo," you groaned. "I'm so close." You threw your head back as the orgasm grew closer. "Kam- Kam! Oh fuck, Kam!" You couldn't even get his full name out as your pleasure crashed over you.

Kamazo leaned you back slightly and buried his face in your chest. You could feel the vibrations of his moans as your own throes of passion drove him to climax as well. He might have said your name, though it was muffled. You'd like to imagine he said it. 

Neither of you moved. You thought he would shove you off, instead he let you lay against his chest. There was something about having him still inside you that made you feel complete. Rays of sunshine poked out from the horizon and the sky turned pink with dawn. The sunlight bouncing off the steam looked like fire. He stroked your hair and trailed his fingers down your back. You were turned slightly in his lap and his other hand rested on your stomach, his thumb moving idly against your skin. You stayed wrapped in his strong arms until the sun was fully above the horizon. 

When you woke up, you had slid down further in the man's lap with your head on his thigh and your hand clutching his yukata. His hand was woven in your hair. You pushed yourself up, embarrassed to have been using his groin as a pillow. He took your chin in his hand as you blinked the sleep from your eyes, running his thumb over your bottom lip. You shook your head free of his touch and stood up in a rush. The man creeped you out, and more unnerving than that, his touch was possessively gentle, like you were his toy, his pet. 

Later that day, you arrived in a medium size village after walking through forest. Surprisingly, you had been able to walk the whole way, though the man walked noticeably slower than he had previously. The man brought you to a run-dow inn on the outskirts. There he wordlessly rented a room and deposited you into it, along with your things. When he made a move to leave, you followed him. The man paused and seemed to be in thought before lifting you by the waist and placing you on the bed. Then the rope made another appearance as he tied your wrists and ankles together. You would have rather gone with him. Even though he was a stranger, he was the most familiar thing to you in this new place. You had never left your village before. 

The next few days were much like the first few. He would come back with food, though this food was more than simple vegetable soup. This was some of the best stuff you had ever eaten, and you eagerly ate it as he fed it to you. You hardly cared how his eyes watched with the same hunger, the food was so good. It would be all over your face and your eyes would plead for more. Whenever he came back, he smelled of iron and there were dark stains on his clothes, but you gradually started to ignore it. It was easier to pretend you weren't kidnapped by a murderer. Could you even call it kidnapped if you didn't have a place you called home? Actually, if you thought about it, you were being clothed and fed by a man, maybe this was the closest thing to a home you would have. So maybe you should stop thinking so hard about it and play along, enjoy playing house. 

Several more days passed. It was weird not talking. You weren't sure if you should say anything. He was silent and he never talked. Were you also supposed to keep silent? Part of you wanted to talk to him, to see if he would return the conversation, at least find out his name. The other part of you was afraid to break the silence. Since he never made an attempt to, maybe he preferred that you not talk, and you didn't want to be on the opposing end of his scythes.

This time when he decided to move again, he brought you shoes. He cut your bindings and you left the village together. It became apparent where you were headed when the city came into view. It was the biggest collection of buildings you had seen and it couldn't be anything other than the Flower Capital, even in the evening light. The closer you got, the more self-conscious you felt. You didn't belong in a city like this. They would be able to tell. Although, you weren't in the same rags you started in. Your clothes may not be as extravagant as some, but you didn't stick out either. 

You seemed to be in a part of the city where things went unnoticed. There were quite a few people that looked rough. The man appeared to know where he was going, heading toward a dilapidated building. He motioned for you to wait and went inside. Out of curiosity, you moved slightly closer to the entrance and peeked in. The man was talking to someone, yes, talking. You strained to hear what his voice sounded like. Your attention was grabbed by movement in the corner of your eye, which you were surprised you noticed, given the waning light. Several people in the alley eyed you. Maybe you shouldn't wear something flashy in this area. A few snickered to each other, and you didn't like the way they were looking at you. It wasn't that different than the feeling you got from the man sometimes, but he was your only familiarity. You weighed what might happen if you stayed outside versus what the man would do if you didn't do what he asked. As soon as one of them took a step towards you, you ran inside and put the man between you and the door. He tensed as you hid behind him, turning his head slightly to see someone peering in the door and quickly leaving. 

Whatever the man had been arranging, it seemed like he was done, because he led you towards the back of the building. It was obvious that most of the rooms were rented by prostitutes. You could hear it very plainly. Where was he taking you? Was he going to rent you out to someone? What if he sold you to the man at the front? It turned out not to be the case. The room in the back was small and he put his things down. You let out a breath of relief. He was staying here with you. The man eyed you and you hoped the relief wasn't evident on your face. He appeared to be thinking about something. The man grabbed his scythes, waving you along to follow him. This was new. He was letting you out of the room instead of leaving you bound. 

The man glanced back every few seconds to, presumably, check to see if you were still there. Where would you go? You had no where to return. And you certainly weren't about to leave his side with strange people prowling in the shadows. Was it a test? To see if you would run? You could get about a foot away before he lopped your head off. That would be stupid. He fed you and clothed you. He brought you back from the brink of death. He was giving you a second chance at life. In your first life, all you did was waste away. You could do something with yourself this time, even if that thing was solely being devoted to serving this person. It was the least you could do in return. So you continued to pad after him like a lost puppy.

Gradually, the number of people in the streets increased as you headed towards the center of town. There was more people than you'd ever seen in one place, and they looked well-fed, too. It was amazing that there was enough food here to keep all these people nourished, yet in your own village, there was virtually nothing. The amount of people distracted you, bumping into you on all sides. Reflexively you reached for the fabric of the man's clothes so you wouldn't get left behind. At the tug, he tightened his grip around his scythes but relaxed when he realized it was only you. For a moment when you were caught in his sight, you thought he might cut your hand off. You retracted your hand immediately. Subtly, the man slowed down. You noticed you weren't struggling to keep up with him as much. 

Abruptly, you tripped, catching yourself on your hands and knees. When you got back up, you lost sight of the man. It was dark now and even the height he had was no help picking him out of a crowd. A hand came over your mouth and you were dragged off your feet into one of the many unlit alleys splitting off from the main path. It wasn't the man. You could tell because this person seemed smaller in stature. You panicked and tried to scream, but it was so muffled by the person's hand that no one would hear. You wriggled and kicked to break free from the hold and you could feel the person's grip loosening so you fought them harder. You managed to slip out of their grasp and ran further down the alley. It took a lot of the limited energy you had to break free, so there wasn't much left to get away. 

All you could do was scream for help. You wished you knew what the man's name was so you could call out to him. He had saved you and acted protectively, or maybe possessively, around you. He would come for you, right? Why would he waste all that time and resources on you just to let you go? He didn't sell you. That meant you were to be kept by him, or so you assumed. Escape lasted a brief few seconds before you were grabbed by your hair and thrown down. There was a swift kick to your stomach, knocking the wind from you and preventing any more screams from exiting your lips. 

There was a sinister laugh and your attacker was pulling off the fabric keeping your yukata on. You grabbed at the fabric to keep it on, simultaneously trying to fight off this person. Gradually, both your grip and your kicks became weak and the attacker was able to pull off your yukata, throwing it to the side. As your eyes adjusted in the darkness, you recognized the face as one of the creepy men from earlier. He had followed you.

You closed your eyes tightly, refusing to look at him. You felt the person's body weight on you and bile rose in your throat. You were shaking with fear and tears were running down your cheeks. The attacker didn't move. There was a warm, wet liquid slowly soaking into your remaining clothes. It was rolling down your skin, especially over your face and chest. When you opened your eyes, slowly, you couldn't understand what you were seeing. Horror closed your features when you realized that the man on top of you no longer had a head, and blood was dripping from his neck onto you. Staring further, there was a scythe stuck in the man's back, attached to the scythe was The Man. A sob left you as you felt relief in seeing him. 

He nudged the limp body off you with his foot, removing his scythe from the headless man's back. The man leaned down and offered you a hand to pull yourself up. Even though you willed your hand to grab his, your body didn't move. You were still stuck in a state of shock, shaking and silently crying. He scooped you over his shoulder and took you back to the room you were staying in, faster than you had thought he would be able to. 

You sat shakily on the edge of the bed, frozen. The man disappeared again. You looked down at your ruined underclothes, staring at the blood. You clawed at the garment to get it off. You didn't want any of that person's blood to touch your skin. There was a small pitcher of water and a basin in the room that you rushed to. Taking a part of fabric without blood, you got it wet and began to scrub the dry blood from your face, neck, and chest. You dumped some of the water over your head, watching the drips turn pink as the blood was reanimated and washed from your hair. 

Afterwards, you sat on the bed in the same spot with the sheets pulled around you. When the man returned, surprise flashed across his features, then something else, pity maybe. He put something in your lap and grabbed the basin. He came behind you, gently finger brushing your hair and washing the strands off more throughly. The thing in your lap was a bowl of noodles in some kind of broth. The smell pulled you from your shock and you started to eat. About halfway through, you noticed he only brought one bowl. You turned and offered it back to him. His eyes stayed on your face while he took the bowl from you. You flinched as he stuck his sleeve in the basin and wiped away all the places you had missed when you were trying to get the blood off. 

He joined you, sitting on the bed, after putting the basin down. Your eyes stayed on the noodles as he ate, watching them dwindle. You swallowed, unsure of what was going on or what you should do. You fidgeted. You owed him twice over now for saving your life. There wasn't a lot you could do for him, but there was an intense sense of guilt for being a useless burden. You pressed your knees together at the thought of the most obvious thing you could do to repay him, and make yourself useful. You nervously chewed on your lip as his bowl became empty.

"Th-Thank you," you stuttered out. After a tense silence, you added, "M-my name is Y/N." 

Next

The next few days were much of the same. You really wished he would keep the fire going while he went out. It got very cold in the little shack when the fire dwindled into ash. Until he came back and started a fire to cook, you shivered. There was no meat on your bones to keep you warm. You couldn't move around to keep warm either since you were bound, not that you had the energy to do that.

A sound that you had become accustomed to took you out of your thoughts. Soft footsteps approached the hut and the man walked through the door. You still didn't know his name. In fact, he had yet to speak. There was a small bundle in his hands. His eyes traveled to you and he approached, placing the bundle under his arm. He bent down, tossing the blanket off you and grabbing you by your wrist bindings. He lifted you to a standing position. You kept your eyes down, not wanting to look into his icy stare this close up. His hand reached into his waistband and pulled out a short blade, unsheathing it. Your eyes widened. What was he going to do with that?

He put the tip of the blade under your chin and lifted your face so that he could see it. Your eyes shifted away nervously. Your heart raced and the cold metal of the knife made you tremble. The blade moved down, ghosting over the skin without cutting it. It moved from under your chin, down your throat, between your breasts, and finally, he cut the ropes holding your wrists together. He cut the ones around your ankles as well. You swallowed hard. You thought for sure he was going to cut you. He took the bundle from under his arm and unwrapped it to reveal some cloth, some colorful, and some not. He threw the more colorful one over his shoulder and held the plain-looking one up. It was an undergarment worn under a yukata, known as a nagajuban. He grabbed your hand and put it through one of the sleeves, wrapped it around your back, and put the other sleeve over the opposite arm. Then he tied it around your waist. It was soft, more importantly, warm. You rubbed the fabric between your fingers. It was the softest piece of clothing you had ever had on your body. 

You looked up at him, actually meeting his gaze this time. It was still frigid, and you couldn't see anything past that. It didn't make sense. Why was he giving you this? Maybe he felt bad that you were cold. Why would he give a shit? He took the other cloth from his shoulder and put it in your hands. It was silk and it had a beautiful floral design on it, made with the most vibrant colors you had ever seen. It felt wrong in your hands, like they were defiling it. You had never had anything this nice in your hands before. You thought he just wanted you to be naked all the time, but maybe he actually just wanted to get rid of the filthy rags you were wearing. It was around the time you went to bed, so there wasn't any sense in you putting it on now, but you did hold it for a long time, stroking it with your fingers and admiring it. 

Like he normally did, he started to prepare food. He didn't retie your bindings. You were grateful that you finally had something to wear, and you wanted to show that you were worth keeping around. Maybe if you could prove you were useful, he wouldn't feel the need to kill you. You weren't sure why he would save you just to kill you anyway, but were murderers ever rational people? You warily knelt next to him at the small table and started to prep the vegetables, removing any visible dirt and removing any unwanted roots or leaves. He paused to study you. His hulking form dwarfed you and made you feel even smaller than you were. One of his large, rough hands took the potato you held and placed it back on the table, then took your hands and put them in your lap. The message was clear. He didn't want your help. You moved to get up, seeing as you were of no use to him. Again his hand guided you, settling on the back of your neck, firmly keeping you in place. That message was also clear. He wanted you to stay where you were. 

As you had been doing for the past few nights, after eating, you went to bed. He liked to lay against your chest and have a hand over your stomach. Now that you were unbound and had clothes, you were much more comfortable. You hesitated before laying your hand on top of his head, gently stroking his hair. He seemed like he was searching for comfort in you with the way he clung to you at night. The man stiffened at first, not sure how he felt about the action, then let himself relax. He released a half-groan, half-sigh, the first noise you had heard him make.

______________________________________________________________

The next day, he packed up everything in the small hut, which wasn't much, into a medium size sack that he then gave to you. You had gotten to put on the flowery yukata that he had brought you, and caught yourself smiling at how pretty it was. Something like that didn't belong on you, a scrawny, dirty, poor whelp of a thing. Your face burned when you saw him watching you and you swiftly put your head down. The sack wasn't very heavy and it was comfortable on your back. It was obvious you were moving to a different location, though you hoped it wasn't far. You weren't sure how much stamina you had. 

You walked behind him, trying not to think about the dried blood on the two massive scythes he carried. You had no shoes, only scraps of old fabric to wrap around your soles to protect them from sharp stones. Maybe if you were good, he would bring you some. What were you thinking? "If you were good"? Were you a pet? Did you plan on staying around?

The two of you were headed away from the cooler mountain region, to more of a forested area. You tried your best to keep up but he was bigger and stronger than you by a huge margin and you were still weak from starvation. Not long after you got into the forested region, you had to stop. Your legs refused to carry you further, forcing you to your hands and knees. You tried to get back up to no avail. Panting, you sat back on your heels. The man noticed the lack of footsteps from you. He doubled back and put both of his scythes into one hand, with the other, he scooped you up and held you against his chest. He continued to walk without a word.

The sun angled down through the trees, light and shadow playing across the man's strong features. For whatever reason, he hid his high cheekbones and angulated nose under bandages. Maybe he was scarred. There was blond scruff along his jaw, most prominent at his chin. And he had a permanent, disconcerting smile etched onto his visage, painted in purple. The breeze tossed his fluffy ponytail back and forth as he walked. You could feel how muscular he was through the fabric between you. Of course, you already knew he was, it was painfully obvious. This close, though, it was impressive. 

He walked for hours without stopping, with far more stamina than you had. He never even took a break to put you down. Only when the sun started to get low in the sky did he stop. You had come upon a small stream. He placed you down, along with his scythes and began to gather wood for a fire. You did the same, again, trying to help. This time, he let you. You continued to gather sticks while he took one of his scythes and stood in the middle of the stream, waiting for an unsuspecting fish to come along. There was a bend on the stream that was pretty well covered by bushes. It wasn't far away, and the man was distracted fishing, so you thought you could wash up a little. You weren't as dirty as you had been, but you hadn't been in water for a long time, and wanted to remember how refreshing it felt. 

You slipped off the yukata and hung it with great care on a nearby branch. Then you stepped into the stream. It was cold, but not intolerable. Plus, the sun was still out enough to provide warmth. You thought about keeping the underclothes on, but didn't want to risk getting them wet, so you put them within arm's reach. Staying close to the bank, you sat in the water until it was about chest height. You dunked your head under the water and let out a sigh. The dirtiest part of you was your feet, which were brown with dirt from walking, so you started there. 

There was a frantic splashing sound followed by thrashing in the bushes, startling you. You didn't know whether to hide or scramble to put your clothes back on. Freezing, you did neither. The man burst through the brush next to the bank of the stream, a wild look in his eyes. You yelped as he came towards you. It scared you, both the wildness about him and the anger that you could see starting to melt away in his expression. You didn't mean to make him upset. Were you in trouble? He looked angry at first, and when he saw you, he seemed to relax a little. 

The man sat on the bank and watched you, still a semi-stern look on his face. It made you self-conscious, feeling his icy blue eyes on your back. Would you rather be watched all the time or tied up like you had been? Really, neither, but you were well-aware that you had no choice in the matter. You turned so that he, hopefully, couldn't see anything, and continued to wash the dirt from your feet. You did it quickly so you could be done and cover yourself back up quickly. When you got up, you did it as fast as possible, grabbing your underclothes and throwing them on simultaneously. 

As you walked back towards where he had started making camp, he grabbed your ankle, still sitting. He picked your foot up, unbalancing you and forcing you to sit next to him. He inspected your feet, seeing the minor scratches from walking and how poor of a job you did getting the dirt off since you were just trying to get back into your clothes in a rush. The man hiked his clothes up so they wouldn't get wet, and moved to stand in the stream. He picked up one of your heels and washed the dirt from your skin. You let out a noise of pain as he squeezed the muscles of your foot slightly too hard. He never stopped smiling, but when he heard you make that noise, something changed about it. Something in his eyes too. You didn't like it. 

He did the same with your other foot, starting gentle, then becoming more firm, clearly wanting to make you squirm. You bit your tongue, not wanting to give up anything. You turned away with your eyes clenched shut, trying not to make a sound. He seemed to ease up, maybe because he could tell he was hurting you. Then, suddenly you jerked your foot back with a squeak when you felt something slimy on your toes. Your gaze snapped back to your foot and saw the man licking your foot, to your horror. The man released your foot after that, a dark tint to his eyes. He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, along with your yukata, and took you back to camp, where he had started a fire. There were several fish that he must have caught roasting over the open flame. 

Night fell, and instead of setting up the bedding after you ate, the man leaned against a tree near the fire. He pulled you by the waist so your back with to his chest. The man never moved his arm from around your waist, keeping you trapped against him. Still, that was better than being bound. You thought he had already fallen asleep, and it seemed like he thought the same of you, or maybe he didn't care. The hand that was around your waist, kneaded at your hip. His other hand traced around your jaw and trailed down your throat, where he briefly held it. Maybe he felt you tense, but he stopped there. His hands ceased to wander after that. You were kept awake, afraid of what he would do if you were really asleep. At some point, you lost the fight against sleep. 

The surroundings were unfamiliar. You ran until you were out of breath. Then, you wandered. You didn't have any bearings. You were lost in the snow. It only got worse when it started snowing again, nearly blinding you. As you trudged through it, your foot hit something. Fishing around with your hand, you pulled out a set of goggles, the same ones that the red-haired man was wearing. Tears started to well in your eyes. Had you gone in a circle? Or had he lost them later? When you found the same destroyed shack that you had left, you knew you had made a big circle. You used one of the walls that was still standing as shelter from the wind. Slinging the goggles around your neck, you put your head into your knees, waiting out the short blizzard.

After what seemed like hours, because it had been hours, you finally stumbled your way into a village. If it weren't for the wafting smell of food, you probably would have been wandering a lot longer. You always followed Kamazo and he knew where he was going. You had no need to know where anything was because Kamazo led you. You had never had to figure anything out because Kamazo did that for you, too. It was dawning on you how helpless you were without him, no better than you had been before he found you. 

You stood in front of one of the food stalls from a distance. Your stomach was growling, not understanding that you couldn't buy any food since you had no money. Maybe you should have just stayed where you were. Kamazo would come looking for you and what if he couldn't find you? Kamazo was probably escaping at this very moment and he would find you in no time. For a while, you walked up and down the Main Street, waiting for Kamazo to come find you, pushing away thoughts that he may not be able to escape. How would you survive without him?

"Hey, you hungry?"

The voice came from a woman with strange hair and strange clothes, but she seemed genuine. She was holding some kind of street food on a skewer out to you. Cautiously, you took it. You probably should have been more wary of s stranger offering you food, but you were starving and felt like you could pass out at any second. Once you took a bite, you ravenously ate the rest of it. The woman was then joined by the tallest man you had ever seen. He was dressed in a black cloak with spikes on the top and was staring down at you with an unreadable expression. There were very sharp-looking blades around his neck. You could feel the adrenaline rush your veins. He scared you and you wanted to get away from him as fast as possible. 

"Where'd you get these?" He tugged at the goggles around your neck. 

You didn't think, only acted. With the wooden skewer in your hand, you stabbed the man in the leg and ran when he reflexively let go of the goggles. You could hear him behind you howling in pain and screaming at you as you bolted away. You were accustomed to running away at this point. Without Kamazo, you would always have to run, not strong enough to defend yourself on your own. As one might expect, you didn't get very far. A second, even more terrifying man with scars appeared in front of you and grabbed you before you could skirt around him, hoisting you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing. 

"Don't worry, Wire. I got 'er." He patted you on the butt. "You're a wild little one, huh?"

In response, you elbowed him a few times in the back, before you realized he was laughing at your efforts. With a dejected sigh, you went limp. You knew your limits. There was nothing you were going to do to get out of this. You only hoped Kamazo would find you sooner rather than later. 

"Giving up already? That's no fun." 

"Will you stop? You're freaking her out." It was the woman's voice again.

"Why are you out here feeding strays anyway?" That sounded like the tall man.

"She looked so damn hungry! Then I saw Kid's goggles and was going to befriend her before your tall ass came and spooked her!"

The name Kid sent a chill through your heart. So these people knew that angry red-haired man. Would he be where they were taking you? You didn't want to go anywhere near that person, especially without Kamazo to protect you. 

The scarred man spoke, "You heard that name before, little one? You stiffened up." When you didn't answer, he jostled you. "I'm talkin to ya. You know Kid?"

You shook your head. 

"Don't lie. You're trembling." 

The woman spoke again, "Let's go back to the ship. We're drawing too much attention." She spoke directly to you then, "We ain't gonna hurt ya. We're just trying to find our captain."

The woman wasn't lying. They didn't hurt you. Emma, as she was called, gave you some more food. She offered you clothes that weren't ripped but they looked too strange to you, so you declined. You were currently sitting alone in a room with the scarred man, who was fiddling with the goggles you found. It seemed like you were waiting for something, probably the tall man. You kept glancing at the scars on the man's face. You wondered what happened to him to make those scars.

"You have something to say?" 

You didn't realize you were staring. "I...d-did the red-haired man hurt you, too?" Your voice wasn't much more than a whisper and you kept your eyes down. 

He seemed surprised by this. "Kid hurt you?"

You nodded and pulled opened one of the tears in the side of your kimono, revealing the deep blue-purple bruises left on your ribs. 

"No, he didn't do this to me. He fixed me." The man paused. "What happened?"

You're not sure why you told him, but you told him everything that had happened. It felt good to talk to someone and to get all the feelings out. You didn't necessarily feel safe here, but you felt marginally more safe than you would be outside.

"Huh. No wonder you were scared." The man scratched his head, seeming sightly remorseful for what his captain had done. "Tell me about this Kamazo person. Kid called him Killer? What did he look like?" 

You described him the best you could. 

"Shit. Maybe that is Killer. Everything fits except for the fact he laughed a lot." For a few moments, he thought. "You stay here. I have to talk to Wire." 

You wondered if you should leave. There was just as much out there for you as there was in here, which was nothing. Maybe if you were out there Kamazo would be able to find you more easily. You didn't know what would happen if you went against the scarred man's word. It was better to listen and to stay where you were. If you answered all their questions, maybe they would let you go anyway. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. They were feeding you after all. That was more than you could do for yourself on the outside.

Hours passed. You hadn't moved from your seated position. There were some loud voices outside, though you didn't catch what they were saying. You were starting to nod off when the scarred man returned. 

"Sorry I left for so long. Kinda thought you would have ran off but good new-"

"FUCK OUTTA MY WAY, HEAT." 

That voice made you jump to your feet, tripping over yourself as you backed into the corner of the room. "N-No!" You put your arms up in front of your face, sure that he was going to hit you. 

"SHUT UP, BITCH! Yer coming with me." 

He grabbed the front of your clothing, nearly tearing it off you again. The red-haired man dragged you to a different part of the ship, throwing you into another room and slamming the door behind him. The captain spoke through the door. "YA HAVE UNTIL DAWN TO UNDO YER SPELL OVER KILLER OR I'M SLITTIN YER THROAT IN FRONT OF HIM. But before I waste a cute little mouse like yerself, maybe I'll fuck ya in front of him and see if that brings him back to his senses. And maybe Wire and Heat will, too. Killer always liked to share."

You trembled, unmoving from the spot he threw you. At least he didn't kick you again. In spite of that, his threats brought bile into your throat and tears in your eyes. A faint laugh trickled from the other side of the room. You pulled yourself up and crawled to Kamazo, who was sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. You grabbed his face with both hands and tilted it to look at you. He looked shaken and... empty. There was an internal struggle that left nothing visible on the outside. You hugged him to your chest, crying bittersweet tears. He was back in your arms again, but for how long, you didn't know. Either you would be killed or he would cease to remember you, bringing your time together to an end.

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