Ming had disappeared.

      Shiragiku was perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on, and yet with that beauty, he was reminded of something his father had once told him. A beautiful woman could bring an entire empire to ruin if she played her hands correctly.

      Jun had never understood that saying until he saw her. He gripped the coin tightly in his palms as he imagined the way her lips would taste. He imagined they'd be sweet like plums and soft like feathers.

      He would give up his entire army for just one touch of her lips and for just one caress of her fingertips. He swiftly stood, stepping out from the confines of the tent, his army in similar tents around him. His eyes were drawn to the clear river, gushing and powerful. It was shining black this night, reflecting the sky above him. He felt an imprint of the coin in his palms and he glanced at the army behind him that he'd surely abandon for some whore who likely forgot his name the moment he walked away.

      He tossed it into the river and it went tumbling through the vast current that swept it in its place. He didn't see it sink or disappear. It was just gone the moment he felt it ease from his skin. Without it, he wondered if he'd ever see her face again. He felt the day's dread sizzle down his spine making his knees nearly buckle with the desire to scoop that coin from the river or let it take him wherever it leads.

      He would have done as much if he hadn't seen the floating figure, face down, rushing near him in the current. His eyes widened and he rushed forward, not bothered by the dampening of his pants as he reached forward and dragged the body to the shore, he was just barely able to grip onto it before it could be lost to the current. As he dragged, he saw the red color of blood seep out into the water, before it was washed and mixed into the murky blue waters.

      He tried not to notice the familiar clothes and back of the man he pulled and by the time he worked past the foreshadowing dread, he had already laid the man flat on the surface of the ground, flipping him over so he was face to face with Ming. His heart drummed in unsteady rhythms that pounded out his ears.

      It was less of the recognition of his second in command, dead and pale, that caused his heart to quicken. It was more of the fact that Ming chest was ripped open almost as if he were a sacrifice to some wild animal.

      The oddest thing of all, besides the gap the size of a Jun's palm in Ming's ribs, was Ming's fingers were fisted in a tight ball. When Jun broke apart the dead man's fingers, a single and familiar coin rested in the man's hand.

      It was smooth and cold, and it fit perfectly in Jun's palms when he held it. Certainly if he was less distraught by desire, he would have found such a thing suspicious.

            ●▬Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ▬●

      The sun was still on its decent under the horizon when Jun saw her face again. She was beautiful, with the blackest hair he had ever seen and eyes that would likely steal the life from his chest. He watched her glide over the room, her robes fluttering like clouds against the sky. He had forgotten all about Ming's ripped open chest, nearly clawed with the strength of an animal. Perhaps a part of him still remembered why he had been bombarded with questions of his men.

      The stress of the week didn't matter when her hands glided over the koto, each string played with such a melody that it soothed his entire body. He didn't want to think about how the other men watched her on the stage. He didn't want to think about the other whores that filled the room, sprouting out fancy for pocketed coin.

      No. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but rather that he couldn't even if he tried.

      One of the prostitutes filled his cup, her legs folded underneath her thighs. "My fair soldier, what keeps your attention tonight?" The woman's voice was musical, and he had to force his eyes from Shiragiku's lips, from her smile, from her delicate and untarnished hands in order to look at the woman who set out to entertain him. She was beautiful enough, with her hair pined up and looking like any other traditional Shin whore. Her eyes were hazel, likely having seen all and more of men and women alike.

      She the way she smiled and spoke of politics was refreshing, like droplets of cold water on his tongue after a hot day. Hanaka was her name, and it was fittingly named for 'scent of flowers' which described the vibrant and beautiful smell she carried.

      Peasant women usually smelt like sweat and the day's hard work. These women were basked in the scent of flowers and the sweet smell of incense. He could smell the flower oils in her hair, even from his current distance.

      Hanaka was no doubt a beautiful woman, her skin dusted with white makeup, making her look untouched by filth or the very sun.

      "You are surely a beauty worth a melody," he said, his eyes drifting behind Hanaka's face. Not once did Shiragiku speak to him or so much as look his way, despite the fair sum of his money had had spent for tonight. A soldier's coin was limited, even that of a general, and yet she still didn't acknowledge him. "I fear that my attention is split tonight."

      If Hanaka knew why, she did not say. The women here were well scripted on flirtation and frivolous formalities. She was versed on politics and opinions on the war. He had never spoke of politics to a woman before, and found her knowledge to be quite extensive. She gave him shadowed compliments and smooth laughter from behind her dainty palm.

      He wanted her, as he was a man who spent most of his time with men. He wanted her like a man would want a taste of water after a sparring match. However, he wanted Shiragiku like a man dying of thirst.

      "Shiragiku-sama is quite the entertainment, dear general," Hanaka replied with swift ease, hiding her expression behind a folding fan. Jun glanced at her, wondering what events had he done wrongly to end up paying for a woman's fancy.

      "With the way this war has progressed, I imagine it is quite difficult for us all to part with a woman's warmth," he commented, and her cheeks inflamed, causing him to wonder how much of her act was real.

      "Sir," she chided, giggling into her fan. "If you so wish, after the song, should I demonstrate a woman's warmth?"

      He wondered if he asked, would her answer be honest. Him, more than any, remained against the act of buying flesh. That was why his household had no slaves and his lips had never touched a woman of the condemned means of coins.

      No, he decided, he would buy this woman's attention, but her body was her own. "I only seek your lovely company tonight." Besides, it wasn't her body that he wanted.

      Shiragiku's eyes were narrowed like that of a snake when her song ended. Her lips were curved into a harmonious smile, and her eyes still danced with the strings that had stopped moving. And he wanted her, more than he had ever wanted a woman before and yet her eyes continued to avoid his willful gaze until he wondered what he had done to earn her scorn.

      Hanaka's musings on arts and culture were wasted on a bewitched man.

            ●▬Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ▬●

      "Ming's remains have been sent back to Qui." The voice of a soldier was crisp, clean, and to the point. The voice of a whore was always dancing around and sprouting frivolous tales. Jun found it to be annoying at first, as Shiragiku had taken her time to insult him that day.

      "Have you examined the body?" Jun felt a portion of his former self awaken at the thought of Ming's chest being ripped out.

      "His heart and liver were removed," the soldier replied, and Jun rubbed his eyes before scanning over the countless documents that piled over his desk. The cold breeze and erupted inside his tent, but he couldn't show weakness for the need of warmth. "It was not by blade. The puncture wounds were ripped open, as if by some kind of beast...the men say it is a hulijing."

      A nine tailed fox? Such news would be certain to bring apprehension that was to fester and spread its pus. Jun sighed once more, hoping that it could be a more manageable threat.

      "There are no foxes anymore," he said in reply, his voice coming out like iron, likely to break before it bends.

      "Some say they have returned, general Jun," the soldier was beginning to grow relentless, and his eyes showed that he truly believed what he had spoken. But Jun was less than convinced.

      The foxes were said to have migrated to mountains and forests. He had his doubts that one would move so far into the city. And there were no mountains near. That much, he was at least certain.

      Likely, it was all just some superstitious nonsense with no truth, but Jun would not deny that Ming had been brutally murdered. "Double the guard and station squad nine to watch over the entrances. I want to know whoever leaves and enters the camp. At all times."

      "That squad is already indisposed, general Jun," the soldier replied and Jun already knew where, judging by the shift in his gaze over to the village lights. The festival was today, commemorating the lost souls of Shin soldiers who died in the battles of the past and the battles to come.

      Jun stood, his fist tightening, "who gave the order?"

      He didn't have to ask to know who his suspicions plagued, and the man immediately shifted his gaze again. Tian Wuhan was likely behind it, as he was constantly undermining Jun's leadership, desperate to rise above his station.

      "Mobilize. We cannot interfere with Shin daily life," Jun ordered and the man nodded his head. None of his men would disobey a direct order, even Wuhan, but he was growing tired of the loopholes that they would seek instead.

     The Qui army was seen as invaders in Shin, despite Shin having made the first move and attacking and sinking their trading ships at every turn. He understood the demoralized thoughts of many of the soldiers who only wanted to go home to their family. That being said, the festival honoring the losses of the terrorizing Shin army and the prayers for a swift victory wasn't likely to be received well by the army that had taken this city.

      Jun, however, saw no benefit in getting the ire of the capital, Kemuri. Angry citizens are a hidden thorn and he didn't want to prick his hand on their traditions.

      Wuhan, however, had no such disposition. He would burn their homes to the ground just to make a point. Perhaps he was waiting for any reason for this attack; with all able bodied men out in Asamiru, defending the border, it was likely to be a demoralizing blow to find the homes of many Shin men, torched and their women dead.

      These tactics were not what Jun wanted his soldiers known for and it wouldn't do him any good killing children and having women raped.

      And of course, Shiragiku lived here.

         ●▬Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ▬●

      He arrived to the black smog filling the sky as women and children littered the street by the dozen. Some had their throats slit open whilst others laid crying from underneath the protective arms of their mother's slowly rotting carcass.

      Jun walked past him, a group of soldiers at his side, rounding up the turncoats that enjoyed senseless violence. It was at this moment, he saw her face behind the crowd of courtesan. A couple of the girls were already being raped against the building, and even Shiragiku was being shoved against the wood by her throat by the time Jun shoved his blade in one of his soldier's backs.

      She glanced up, a small bruise on her neck where her attacker's hands had been adamently pressing against her skin. Her face was like porcelain and perhaps once upon a time he could have stopped himself from feeling the way her eyes crawled throughout his skin. He felt a yearning for her touch even in the midst of battle.

      "Sir, is this not a dangerous act that you play your hand?" Shiragiku always had a way with words, which was odd because like a man possessed, he hardly remembered what she said. She snapped her fingers and he left his trance to kill the turncoats that raped the women of the pleasure district.

      "We have to go," he said, offering his arm to the woman who stole his mind. She glanced through him towards the beyond.

      "I cannot leave," she told him, and for a moment he felt the urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her away from the fires and battles that raged around them. "Honored general, your men attacked without warning. I have to aid my people." She brushed past him, her shoulder knocking the wind out of him as she knelt down next to one of the women who laid against the brothel walls. Shiragiku did not mind the blood that had soaked the dirt from the turncoat's body that flooded the street from Jun's blade.

      He watched as she helped her fellow courtesan to her feet, not minding the way the blood of the Qui soldier had bled into the silk kimono that cover her knees. The woman's face was red, and blotched with tears that created trails down the white makeup she had worn. It contrasted the smooth expression on Shiragiku's face that remained ever unchanged, except for the hint of worry that clouded her eyes.

      Jun glanced around as the fires began to rage on throughout many of the buildings. The small lanterns that had been lit and hung on intricate strings, honoring the dead and wishing good tides for the living, were broken on the ground next to dead bodies.

      Wuhan was nowhere to be found, much to Jun's displeasure as he wanted the pleasure of hacking the man's head off slowly. A part of Jun feared the punishment he would receive from the Emperor upon his return. Death in war was inevitable, but Zhong Mei, known as the Queen of Heads, was not someone Jun wanted to anger, and his queen hated nothing more than disobedience.

      "General," Shiragiku's voice was trembling, immediately knocking him out from his thoughts. He knelt down next to her, watching as she pressed her hands against the courtesan's body in attempts to stop blood from gushing out from the wound in the woman abdomen. Jun immediately noticed by the placement of it that there was no saving her. "Can you do anything?"

      "I'm sorry," Jun whispered, and he felt immediate grief by the expression that overtook the woman's face as she glanced down at the dying woman with an unreadable expression.