Rain [Kiyomi]

[Kensei Musashi]

"I see then! I suppose, if anyone could prove themselves a great teacher, it would be one's parents, wouldn't it? After all, they would know you best, wouldn't they? Your father sounds like a good man and a good teacher - I would be inclined to think that what he's taught you is indeed something practical, as you said. Something that will definitely help you when the time comes for it, at least" he remarked, smiling. Kiyomi's father sounded like a good man, as he said - Though his belief that victory relied not simply on one's own skill, but the exterior factors around the fight, were definitely unusual, it was nonetheless definitely a sound way of thinking in Musashi's mind - one that definitely did have some logic or thought to it. It was true, at the very least, that exterior factors did play a role in fights.

"My own mentor, as I am sure I mentioned earlier, was a man named Miyamoto Bennosuke" he spoke, thinking back on earlier times when he was younger. "Back then, I was little more than an orphan - nay, a thief, or pickpocket you might say. I was always clinging desperately for life, stealing from others, thinking it was the only way someone like me could really survive in the world. When I tried to steal from him, however, I was caught immediately - Before I could get an inch away from him, he managed to catch me by the wrist and for a moment, I thought I was going to be punished harshly" he remarked, chuckling as he remembered the memory, the image of that time so long ago still fresh in his mind. Looking back to Kiyomi, he spoke to her, explaining further.

"Instead, he offered me more of his change and I, in my pride, refused to accept it. So instead, he guided me back to his home and told me that if I wanted something but didn't want to be given it for free, than I should work for it, and so he proceeded to teach me the art of the sword. I didn't know why I kept going back each day to learn from him - He was peculiar. Odd, in his own way. He was almost too good. But everything he did, he did to help others. By teaching me the art of the sword, he wanted to pass on the knowledge to the next generation. He told me he saw potential - that if I knew at least this much, maybe even someone like me could make it somewhere, rather than depending on stealing for the rest of my life. In the end, he was right" he admitted, smiling.

"Though, for all his niceties, for all the training he gave me, he told me to be wary of my own blade - to fear it. Do you know why?" he asked her, though he clearly didn't expect her to know. "He was a cynical man when it came to the sword. He expected me to use it's skill to achieve status and become a samurai, but he always warned me against the naiveties of youth. He always told me this: 'Swords are weapons. The way of swords is the way to kill. However you try to dress it up in phony righteousness, killing is your truth'. So to prevent death, I learned to be merciful. To avoid killing whenever possible with my blade. I wanted to learn how to protect people with my sword and in doing so, I became the Emperor's family's protector" he finished his explanations, though in his thoughts he bitterly and grimly added 'Yet for all this, in the end, Miyamoto-dono was right to the very end'.

[Kiyomi Kato]

“I do suppose one's parents, or their siblings, can be the greatest teachers. My younger sister taught me much. Everyone think the the elder one is, the wiser one is, but I think people often overlook the beautiful simplicity and naivety of a youthful mind.” Kiyomi's heart beat louder in her chest when she mentioned her sister, and she blinked in order to hold back tears. Letting her gaze drop to her cup, she held it there for a moment, reinstating control over herself. With a deep sigh, she wondered, if he sister was still alive, how her life would have change. She wondered what alternative path she may have walked had she heeded the words of a child.

Kiyomi listened carefully to Musashi's tale, nodding occasionally, although no smile crossed her face. Much of what was said tugged at her heart strings in one way or another, things she could relate to too easily. She was discovering, that by the minute, she had much in common with the Kensei; at least their origins seemed to bear some familiarity. However, where he learned honour, came to want to protect others, forgot the arts of stealing, Kiyomi came to be a thief, walked in the shadows of deception and took the life of those Musashi desired to protect. They, despite their similarities, could have been polar opposites, the north and south, the sun and moon. The thought intrigued Kiyomi, and she began to wonder if fate had played a hand in their meeting.

“Well from the sound of things Musashi-san, Kensei Miyamoto taught and raised you well. Indeed, you have clearly become a good man, and a fine warrior. I'm sure that, if Miyamoto was still among the living, his heart would swell with pride to see that you have become the Emperor's greatest asset; in more ways than one.” She flashed a grin at him, eyes catching the light in a mischievous way. She would let the Kensei interpret that how he would.

Taking a sip of her tea, she inclined her head a little after, gulping loudly. Replacing the cup upon the table, she cracked the knuckles of her left hand, and then wrinkled her nose a little. She pushed her fringe away from her face, and then leant across the table, resting her chin on the back of her palm. She raised her eyebrows a little, and with a sly grin, prepared to ask her next question, her more inquisitive side taking over. Hearing about others made her able to forget herself, and she found that the best way to deal with the grief that threatened to consume her every time her sister crossed her mind.

“So tell me, Musashi-san, as a merciful samurai protector, loyal to the Emperor, are you forced to take the life of others often, or does your chosen path allow you to spare the lives of those you deem worth living?”

[Kensei Musashi]

Musashi gave her a warm smile, happy to know she thought like that of his teacher and that she would have thought him to be proud of where Musashi had gotten. Even though there still lingered that unease he always felt on a rainy day, knowing he was doing at least one thing right. "Thank you for saying that, Kiyomi-san" he addressed her warmly. "He was, if anything, probably the one person I looked up to in my life. With no one to call a parent in my life, being able to live - nay, to be raised by someone of his talent was a blessing I am, to this day, still thankful for" he told her, a truth that would stay with him until his final days. His teacher had shown him a whole new way of life - if he had never met the man, he could only imagine where he would have ended up instead. It was almost impossible to hazard a guess.

Taking another sip of his tea as he reflected upon this, his ears remained keen and sharp as he caught Kiyomi's speech again, listening closely as she began to ask him more of his life - asking if, as a warrior who preferred peace, he had ever had to take a life. The question, though indeed somewhat grim, was an important one, Musashi noted. It was only natural she would begin to wonder how, as a protector of the Emperor, he could get by without slaying someone. Setting down his cup gently, he looked back up towards Kiyomi, lips parting to speak. "That is a good question, Kiyomi-san, but nonetheless I shall give you my answer. Or, at the very least, the answer I have found" he responded, confirming for her that he would indeed at the very least give her some answer.

"The truth is, as a Samurai and a warrior, it is not expected of us to be able to live a life without bloodshed. If we had wanted such peaceful lives, we would have not picked up swords. I am, as is expected of any other man who lives by the sword, prepared for both outcomes" he stated. "However, I do not wish to kill needlessly. There is no point in slaying all in sight - a sword that simply cuts everything in sight is, to me, not a sword at all. I stated earlier that a Samurai is not expected to live a life without bloodshed, did I not? Allow me to revise that - I have trained myself and the samurai below me not to fight, but to defend. One may say what I teach can slay a man, but in the end, there is a difference in intent. Do you understand?" he asked her, raising a brow. He hoped she understood what he was trying to say.

[Kiyomi Kato]

Kiyomi nodded slightly as Musashi talked, eyes widen, listening intently. She had always wondered why it was the Samurai were deemed as honourable, while her kind, the assassins, were deemed as deceitful backstabber’s. She had always thought their methods, however different, had the same motive, serving the Emperor and eliminating any threat to the throne or to the people of Japan. However, for the first time in her life, she was beginning to see where the difference between them lay.

Both factions murdered. Both murdered to protect, murdered in the name of the Emperor. However, unlike the assassins, who were taught to make the first move, taught to take action and kill those who posed a threat without said threat ever being realized, the Samurai took life only in defence. They did not mount stealthy attacks, or creep in the shadows of the houses of others. They remained close to the Emperor, close to the families of Japan, and only spilled blood when danger had finally come to their doorstep. It was the difference between action and reaction that set them apart. Apparently, it was honourable to react, and far less so to act.

A rush of jealousy surged through Kiyomi, and for the first time in a long time, she wished that she had been raised differently, trained for an altogether different occupation. She could have had a different life, seen herself differently, if only she'd taken another path.

Taking a deep breath, she quelled the emotion quickly, knowing that regret served no purpose but in causing misery. She could not change the outcome of her life, she could not alter the past. No one could. She had to focus on the future, on what lay before her. She knew that honour no longer mattered, and that emotion, love, family; that was what was truly important to her.

“You sound to be a fantastic teacher Musashi-san. I wish that I was one of your students. I'm sure I could learn a lot from you. I would enjoy learning the art of protection, of defence.” Truly, she would, even if she would not the it's most avid practitioner. Just the knowledge of such an art would be invaluable. It was then an idea occurred to her, and her amber eyes found the smiling man across from her, and she raised her eyebrows; an innocent and inquisitive expression.

“I may be being a little forward Musashi-san, but would you be able to, perhaps teach me? While I could never be an official student of yours, would you be able to find it in your heart to spare a little of your free time teaching me a little of your code?”

[Kensei Musashi]

"Ah, do you really think so?" he asked, honestly not quite believing her completely as she mentioned how he was a good teacher. Nay, not even that, but she had said he sounded like a fantastic teacher - something far beyond what he'd thought of himself. He blinked once, twice out of surprise at the remark, though eventually his features softened as he smiled again. "Ah, I do not know if I am as great a teacher as you think of me, however, I am thankful to hear that, Kiyomi-san" he told her. "But just as much as you may think of myself as a great teacher, I cannot say any less of you as a student - to be so eager to wish to learn is, in itself, probably the most desirable trait for a student to have, if not one of the most desirable traits a person can have" he remarked, not realizing what she would say next.

Just as he said that, she suddenly voiced her own thoughts as she asked him if she could learn from him the same code he lived by, even if she could never be one of his real students. He blinked again, taken aback in surprise at the suddenness of the question. His mind started thinking about the prospect of teaching Kiyomi in his spare time as he stared into her eyes, seeing a deep-seated desire to learn, exactly the kind of desire he had praised her for having not a few moments earlier. For a few moments however he was still not sure how exactly to react and to be honest, he was quite surprised - She was the older of the two, yet she still sought to learn something from him, the code he lived by, which he taught all of his Samurai students. However, after the few moments of thought, he had an answer.

"You need not worry yourself for being so pushy" he answered her back, smiling. "So long as you are willing to listen and to learn, then I am just as willing to give up some of my spare time if it means being able to teach you, Kiyomi-san" he told her, smiling a little bit wider. "Truth be told, it has been a while since I have met someone so eager to learn from me. Though, even as I teach you, I am hoping that perhaps in doing so, I may learn from you as well. I am, after all, still a student myself" he told her, despite the fact many saw him as a master. The role of a master was not something he felt he could accept yet as he was still young and new to the world. There were still many more things for him to learn about the world. Though he did not expect Kiyomi to teach him much about her own code, maybe there were still things he could learn simply by being with her.

[Kiyomi Kato]

“Of course I think so Musashi-san, or I would not have said so. Your students clearly learn a lot from you, and they look up to you as if you were their parent, no matter their age. I've seen men far older than you speak of you in hushed whispers, like you are some kind of legend, as if speaking your name will conjure you to them in a cloud of mist.” She grinned at the last bit, giving his mysterious nature and skill a somewhat supernatural twist. She thought it fitted him quite well. “They respect you, in a way that very few people do anyone. I've known people die and kill for that kind of respect, and here you are, commanding it naturally as if it is nothing. You are a good teacher. Don't doubt that.”

She took the final sip of her tea, savouring the warm liquid as it ran down her throat, refreshing her used vocal chords. When she lowered her cup, she noticed his eyes on her, unswerving. She locked her gaze to his, staring as hard as she could, and a silence stretched out between the two, tenuous, until Musashi broke it. He had agreed to teach her. Kiyomi grinned and nodded quickly. “It gives me great honour to be accepted as one of your students Musashi-san.”

Holding her bowed head still for one moment, she kept her gaze diverted toward the floor for as long as she thought respectful, and then finally, slowly, looked up. She folded her hands before her, stroking her knuckles with her finger tips, and beamed at him, her excitement nearly uncontrollable. It had been a long time since she had trained in a new art, and while this coming activity could prove useful and important in any future assassinations she may attempt, especially those within the Royal family, it also provided her a source of fun, of camaraderie that she had not experience since she had first become an Emperor's Hand. The challenge of learning a new style always thrilled her, and she could think of no-one better to learn with than the Kensei sat across from her. He seemed to be one of the only humans she could stand, and despite the fact she felt a little uneasy admitting it, she had quite enjoyed his company, and relished the thought of spending more time with him. In him she had found a kindred spirit, something that she had long been lacking.

“So tell me Musashi-san, what is it you wish to learn from me? I don't think, after the beating you gave me, there is much I can offer you?” She blinked innocently, grinning, eyebrows raised in an inquisitive manner. She would not offer to teach him anything. If he wished for something from her, even if it was merely watching how she held her sword, he would have to ask. Such a decision came from a natural want to be a little difficult, to test others and their resolve to do things even if she were taking advantage of them. “And when would you like these training sessions to commence?”

[Kensei Musashi]

"If you say so, though I must admit, I can't help but feel embarrassed knowing that people speak so highly of myself. It is definitely not something I am used to" he remarked, his face turning a little red as she mentioned how he had so easily gained a kind of respect that most men strove for with their lives, in her own words. A kind of respect very few ever earned. The kind that, in her own words, made people speak of him like a legend. But even after hearing all of that, he found it difficult to really accept that he was so worthy of that kind of respect - it was better to say he was content with little even though he could have much, much more. He was an odd kind of person, not one who came along often. He scratched the back of his head as his face slowly returned to it's normal hue from the red blush it had taken on.

"I assure you, Kiyomi-san, I am just as honored to have you as a student as you could be to have me as a teacher" he remarked of her again, still impressed by her desire to learn. He was honestly still embarrassed to be praised by people who considered it an honor to study under him, but nonetheless it made him smile - he liked it, knowing that, in some small way, he may have just been doing something right. Leading the way for someone to move forwards. "I don't think that, in my short time teaching people the way of the Samurai, that I have encountered someone as enthusiastic as yourself. Even in my youth, I was not quite as happy to be learning the sword from my master, even if I now shower praise upon him today" he admitted, admiring that in her.

"Do not underestimate what people can learn from each other" he told her, smiling simply. "Even if they are a master swordsman, or if they are only a poor, blind woman sitting in a hut, there are many things you can learn simply from being with them. Perhaps, in that way too, I can learn something even if you don't say it" he remarked, thinking back. It hadn't been coincidence he'd mentioned a blind woman - his thoughts had gone back to her. Sakuya. The blind woman whom he'd given his heart to. She had taught him many things, and perhaps she was the one to whom he owed his own humility - Even moreso than having been born with nothing, she had taught him how, with so little, one could still lead a fulfilling life. He only wished that one life was still among the living.

[Kiyomi Kato]

“How could I not be enthusiastic, learning from such an impressive swordsman as yourself Musashi-san?” Kiyomi smiled at the samurai. In the short time she'd known him, she had come very quickly to understand that he was overly modest, and seemed to dumb down his renown in others presence. She wasn't quite sure why, but she would work it out after more studying, of that she was sure. However, knowing why or not, she liked the quality. In her time serving the Emperor, she had met numerous people obsessed with their own legend, their own skill, and it made a nice change to have someone try and act as though they were nothing special when they clearly were.

Listening carefully as to what he might learn from her, she raised an inquisitive eyebrow. It seemed as though the samurai had first hand experience of this, and once again, she wished to probe deeper into his past. There was something about him, this Kensei, something mysterious and dark that intrigued the ninja. He was turning out to be more and more like her, and she wondered what it was that had turned him into such an emotionally closed individual. However, this time she managed to hold her tongue, knowing it would be better to gain his trust before asking any such questions.

“Well Musashi-san, if what you say is true, perhaps I can be of some use to you yet.” With that she smiled and nodded, though made to speak no more. For a moment, both seemed lost in their own silent reveries, neither one speaking. It was as if a spell of silence had been cast over both, and their teasing and happy moods seemed to sombre.

Standing suddenly, Kiyomi made a move toward one of the doors to the outside world, and drew it back. Behind the door stood a small yet beautiful garden, cherry blossom trees and small fountains being pelted relentlessly by the heavy downpour. Despite the grey sky, despite the heavy rain, it had a beauty to it that words could not describe, and it lured Kiyomi into the rain. Taking a step out, she closed her eyes as the water washed over her skin, and in a second her hair was sodden.

Turning back, she held out a hand to Musashi, eyes half closed against the water hitting her and dripping down her face. “I have a want to go for a wander around your garden Musashi-san. It wouldn't be proper of you to let a lady walk around in such weather unaccompanied would it? Would you do me the honour of joining me?” She smiled and maintained her position, letting the cleansing rain wash over her.

{{OOC: sorry about the random walk outside at the end! I had an idea and had to get it in there. If it sounds a little disjointed, ignore it XD It'll all become clear soon enough.}}

[Kensei Musashi]

Musashi smiled in response as she asked how could she not be enthusiastic to learn under him. He was modest and humble, but her words still managed to make him smile a little, though from mild embarrassment from being praised his face turned a little red again, flushing a little from the presence of the compliments. He raised his tea cup back up to his lips, taking one last drink as he downed it's contents, the rich tea flowing down the back of his throat gently and passing down through his system without problem. Setting the cup back quietly on the top of the table, finished with his drink, he turned his attention back upwards to Kiyomi, smiling to her. It would be certainly an interesting time having her as a student, he thought to himself. He would make sure to do his best as a teacher.

Although, before he could consider it further, Kiyomi proceeded to take up a sort of strange action. Standing up, she began to walk across the room towards a set of sliding doors that led to the outside world, taking hold of the door handles gently as she pushed them outwards. Slowly, a whole world was unveiled to them both as the courtyard of the palace became accessible, the door wide open thanks to Kiyomi's efforts as she stepped out into the garden. Even though the rain continued to splash down upon the ground, falling from the heavens and binding it and the earth, she seemed not to care for even a moment should she get wet in the rain, instead accepting it willingly. Accepting it. The phrase rung through his mind. He still wasn't sure if he could do the same.

Continuing with this somewhat odd behavior, she began to ask him to come out with her into the rain, asking him to join her. It was a strange notion, taking a wander around the garden during this time when the rain fell. He hesitated for a moment, the downpour reminding him vividly of that night. But his friendliness towards the woman won over - though reluctant to go out, he still put on his best smiling face and stood up, walking along the wooden floor of the dojo before stepping out into the outside world, feeling the raindrops hitting his head and flowing through the strands of his black hair. "Very well then" he started, casting his gaze to Kiyomi. "I will join you in your walk, Kiyomi-san, if that is what you wish" he told her, smiling. Perhaps, so long as he was with someone, he could forget about the rain.

[Kiyomi Kato]

Kiyomi grinned widely as Musashi stood to join her. He made his way slowly toward her, and for a moment she thought she caught reluctance in his stride. For whatever reason, he seemed in two minds about his joining her. However, he did so anyway, almost as if his code deemed him honour the woman's request, despite any wish he had of staying dry. Mentally, she applauded him. Despite not wanting to walk in the downpour, he was still able to wear a smile. “I do wish it Musashi-san. I am very happy to see that you are obliging.”

She did not wait to see if Musashi had followed her. Rather, she began to walk slowly around the edge of the garden, taking long but deliberate strides, almost dancing between flowers and under the hanging branches of the cherry blossom trees. While there were many aspects of the rain that annoyed her, the people it dragged inside, the unwanted company it brought, rain itself she loved. Be the fall a soft drizzle or a hard downpour, she felt the rushing of water over her body cleansing. It calmed her, helped her feel as though she could wash away her sins. Such an idea was ridiculous, although the notion itself was one she much admired. She knew she could never undo what she had done...

Finally looking back over her shoulder, she cast a glance to Musashi. “I love the rain. There is something about it that is so...calming. Would you agree? To so many it is just water, an annoyance. But you seem like a person to whom the water of the heavens has a little more meaning. Would I be right?”

She slowed a little, so that he could catch up to her. She wanted to know if, like her, he held a similar belief that the rain could represent more than just an annoyance. After all, they had been similar so far, had they not? Kiyomi liked to feel, for once, similar to another. She always felt like an outsider, and she wanted that to change. She wanted to feel as though she was like someone else, as though she had a kindred spirit.

[Kensei Musashi]

Hesitantly he followed her out into the rain, the droplets of water spilling onto his head and flowing between the dark locks of his hair, trailing down his face and flowing around every crevice of his brows and nose before finally dripping down from his jawline. His eyes remained half-lidded in an attempt to make sure no rain struck his eyes directly, yet even so there remained an unfamiliar weight upon his form that he personally felt uncomfortable in. Still, he made sure to keep close after her even as she continued on ahead, watching as she made her way around the flowers and the trees, admiring the scene of the garden so much that Musashi briefly wondered if he was still looking at Kiyomi - whilst not cold or shut-off, he didn't think he'd seen her so happy or admiring of her surroundings until this moment, when they stepped into the rain.

Then she had asked him a difficult question - did he like the rain? Ordinarily, the answer should have been simple, but he'd been hesitant and reluctant to voice it. When she continued speaking of it as though it was a person, she remarked how calming the 'water of the heavens' was to her, making it all the more difficult to respond with his own opinion. It was clear she loved the rain so much, seeing a whole new meaning within it rather than the simple annoyance the rest of the people saw in it. The drizzling rain continued to weigh down on him, pressing down on him as he pondered how to answer. His brows gained weight as his eyes scrunched up after almost being hit directly in the eyes by a raindrop or two before turning to Kiyomi, opening them again, yet still half-lidded.

"I too see a greater meaning in the rain, Kiyomi-san... I do not simply treat it as an annoyance, much like the rest of the world does. You are right, there is something much more to this rain. Yet..." he spoke, his calm features for a moment faltering and while his expression remained the same, something in his eyes changed. "To me, the rain only brings sadness. It weighs down on one's shoulders and all throughout, there is naught but endless crying... As though the heavens themselves are weeping, because those below cannot" he answered solemnly before turning his gaze away, afraid to let her see into his eyes in case she learned more. "I am sorry, Kiyomi-san, but I do not share your admiration for the rain" he apologized. The rain running down his cheeks almost looked like tears.

[Kiyomi Kato]

Kiyomi stopped dead in her tracks on hearing that the Kensei did not like the rain. As he spoke, there was a solemness to his voice that had not been there before, and each of the words that left his lips were so charged with meaning that they tugged a little at her heart strings. She had thought her heart was cold, no longer able to be moved, but she was wrong. She turned slowly to look at him, droplets of water running down the contours of her face, causing her dark skin to glisten slightly.

As she set her eyes on him, she noticed that the proud man of moments before seemed lost. While his face was still stern, he seemed to have been hollowed out, stooped by some invisible force weighing down on his shoulders. His eyes, normally bright and full of life, seemed lidded, listless, a drastic change to his normal expression. The rain that ran down his cheeks looked somewhat like tears, and she wondered, not for the first time, what deep sadness he held onto. Not that it should matter to her; yet somehow, it did.

Despite her wanting to take little to no interest in the man beyond learning how to beat him, she could not shake the feeling she had of wanting to aid him. It was foolish, pointless, for no one mattered to her but her sister. Yet as much as she might try to ignore the niggling thought, the stronger it sounded in her mind. What was it about the man that made her so inclined to act differently around him than she did around everyone else?

Surprising herself, she took a few quick steps toward Musashi, wrapping her arm in his. Without a second thought, she pulled him toward the shelter of an over hanging tree, where the thick canopy offered at least a little protection against the downpour. Patting his arm a little, she released him as soon as they were in the shade, and she strode past him, leaning against the trunk of the tree.

“I'm sorry you feel that way Musashi-san” Her voice was much softer than it had been through out their entire meeting. It was somehow more sincere, as if the rain had washed away her hard exterior, leaving only her vulnerable inner self. “I had not meant to upset you by coming out here. Rather, I thought you might be like me, and find something cleansing in the rain.”

Looking up at him through slightly jaded eyes, she tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “I know it is not my place, but may I ask why it is you feel so badly about the rain? I can see it is not that you mind getting wet. There must be something more. Please, if I am being to forward Musashi-san, do tell me. I sometimes forget the etiquette people should show on first meetings.”

[Kensei Musashi]

Led by Kiyomi as she took hold of his arm, he walked slowly towards the shade of a tree in the garden, where he might be sheltered from the continuous rain. His form was shuffling slowly, almost as though he was dragging some invisible weight behind him as he attempted to move forwards, though maybe he was just imagining it. When he no longer felt the pitter-patter upon his head, only the remaining dampness in his hair and the few streaks of lingering drops falling down his head, through his hair and across his face, he allowed himself to stop as Kiyomi released him, moving over to the tree trunk where she stood by and looked to him. He was sure of it even now - unable to hold up the facade anywhere near as well as he did when indoors, he knew he must have looked wretched, hollow. Like a soulless husk wandering the day time.

"I do not blame you for that, Kiyomi-san..." he spoke as she mentioned how she had hoped that he, much like her, had liked the rain. His voice was almost trembling, as though the cold droplets on his form had made him shiver, though they were not the only ones causing it. "As long as people remain different and unique, so too will our interests... It just so happens that, regardless of any similarities we may have, I have chosen to look upon the rain with melancholy, whilst you do with joy. It is not you who are at fault for that much" he spoke still with that lingering polite speech, attempting to keep his voice calm, yet there was something still strange and disturbing in how he spoke. Changed, from the man he was within the dojo. Different to what it had once been, as though day time had turned to night.

"I am afraid, however... I mean no disrespect, Kiyomi-san, but I do not wish to tell" he told her, refusing to answer her question, yet even he could tell it was only a stupid stubbornness that made him say that - as though he could deal with this lingering depression himself. As though he could really handle what was really aching him on the inside. Musashi was wise for his age, but at the same time little more than a fool. He was looking down at his feet now, though he knew he could feel Kiyomi's gaze resting upon his form, knowing that she wouldn't be satisfied with such an answer to her question. Something in her seemed to take interest in him and he doubted she would settle for some pathetic answer like he had given. Had their positions been reversed, perhaps he too would have continued questioning her.

[Kiyomi Kato]

As the pair stood under the tree, both sodden and bedraggled even though they had spent only minutes in the rain, wandering uncovered through the gardens, there was a startling difference between the two. Inside the palace Kiyomi had seemed out of place, and Musashi had seemed cheerful, at one with the world he inhabited. She had seemed scared, almost jumpy, afraid to relax and lower her guard, as if something unknown could hurt her at any time. Yet outside, alone in the downpour, their positions had reversed.

Kiyomi seemed strong, at peace, as if nothing could harm her, were as Musashi appeared drawn, just a ghost of his former self. It was as if the rain, on touching his skin, had seeped into his soul and drowned the kindness he had shown in his dojo, as if it had permeated his person and trapped his confidence and happiness in a watery grave. And she noticed. Kiyomi was now in her territory, she was in a position where she felt comfortable, and even when unsure of herself she was sharp witted and keen sensed. In her element, she missed nothing. The slightest movement, a momentary pause in speech...she caught every nuance in someone's character, and she read them like the most simply written of scrolls.

At his response, she tilted her head, narrowing her unblinking eyes. She examined him like one would examine a new found creature of great interest, as if he were a specimen she was seeing for the first time. Pushing herself away from the tree, she took two long, lingering steps toward him, and then abruptly bent, lowering herself so she could look up into the samurai's eyes. She needed to see what they held. His eyes would tell her everything. His eyes would confirm or deny any suspicions she may have had.

And there it was. In his dark eyes, watery from the rain, she could see but one emotion. Sadness. Loss. Regret. She wondered if there was pain, perhaps guilt, yet those demons were far harder to place. Smiling to herself, though not outwardly, because despite her triumph she felt bad for the man she seemed to share so much with, she straightened up to her full height, and then laid a consoling hand upon the Kensei's shoulder.

“Your excuse seems half-hearted Musashi-san, as if you bear a weight on your shoulders unneccesarily.” She smiled as best she could, warmly almost, odd for her usually distant features. “Carrying dark thoughts will do nothing but age you and darken your person Kensei. The great man you are, the feats you have achieved...you should not walk, nor live, in such shadow.”

Her other hand came to rest upon his opposing shoulder, and she shook him a little. “You may not think it fitting to tell me what it is that irks you, but believe me when I know that it is something that saddens you greatly, something from your past that you have not yet resolved. While I cannot resolve it for you, if you should speak it, if you should explain it to me, it may alleviate a little of the pressure it puts upon your shoulders.”

It was for the first time in along time that Kiyomi was not acting out of self interest, but out of kindness, out of what little goodness lay in her heart. She acted to aid another, selflessly, for it hurt her to see such a great man stooped by something as little as rain.

[Kensei Musashi]

"... I understand what you mean to say, Kiyomi-san" he spoke weakly, though turning his eyes up to her as she stared him in the face, a new emotion was displayed to her. More than just the sadness and regret she had seen, but far from a positive one either - it was a deep-seated guilt as bottomless as the vast ocean. Bringing his left hand slowly up, he took hold of the hand resting on his shoulder, feeling the warmth emanating from it's touch before slowly lifting it from his shoulder. "However," he spoke again, continuing to keep eye contact as he spoke with her, never breaking even once. "I am afraid that even if I were to announce my sin to the whole world, not one gramme of weight would be lifted from my shoulders" he informed her, his expression sinking a little more.

"You may wonder what it is that I have done that I would think so unforgiving... But I must ask you something. Kiyomi-san, though I consider it unlikely... Tell me, have you ever killed someone?" he spoke this line with a cold, detached voice that seemed so foreign to his character, so at odds with his previous attitude that one must have wondered if he'd suddenly switched places with a doppleganger. However, this was indeed the same Musashi standing before her that had welcomed her to his dojo and served her tea. "Kiyomi-san... I am afraid I have not divulged the true story of my battle with the demon. Look at my hand" he told her, raising the left hand up to show her the stub of a pinky finger he had left. "Now, I told you that I lost it three years ago in the spring that night, the same night as when I got this scar. However, do you think it a battle wound?".

The question had clear connotations, though it would no doubt only serve to confuse. By his earlier words, one would have thought he lost the finger in a fight with the demon. However, by this question alone, it now seemed more like the demon had not been at fault for taking the finger from his hand. As though some other force had done it. "This finger I have lost, who do you think took it? A demon? Some rebellious warrior? An accident? The answer is none. In my own cowardice, after the night of the demon's attack, I failed to commit seppuku and take my life in honor and so instead cut off my own finger as repentance. Repentance for taking the life of my fiance" he admitted to her, his face like stone as he recounted the event, yet even so the rain continued to fall, continued to leak down his face like the tears he couldn't show.