Hidden Meanings

Of One's Crimson World [OHSHC]

I tried present tense with this one.

Hardly a day goes by without me being reminded of my task.

I am a warrior, skilled in the arts of impersonation. But my task wasn't to impersonate, it was to instead protect the seven heirs of each of the clans every single time they met, to protect them along with five others.

Which is, actually, quite often.

There was only six clans, but seven 'heirs'. I am assigned to protect one of them, but my comrades agreed that we shall attempt to protect every last one of them, no matter the cost.

Once such occasion where I must protect the young heirs is now, as bubbles tickle the base of my throat, the pockets of air sliding up from my skin.

The hand at the back of my head refuses to reside, and the water laps at my cheeks. I can feel the ache in my lungs begin, as I've been drained of oxygen.

I'm being held underwater, arms locking my own behind my back, and all I can do is watch as strands of my hair float by, basked in red from the glint of the sun above.

The hand is heavy, pushing down on my head with all more the force then necessary, and as I shift my foot, they take it as a sign of aggression and slam my head down deeper into the way, bashing my nose on the pavement of the fountain.

In an instant, it's removed, and as I quickly surface, water dripping down my cheeks and framing my hair and eyebrows, I can hear the pop of someone's arm being dislocated.

"Never let your guard down," the male who broke that person's said arm raises a disinterested eyebrow, his dark brown gaze roaming over me. "Isn't that what I say to you every time we head out?"

"Sorry," I murmur half-heartedly, a hand flying to the inside of my shirt to draw out the blade that had been carefully pressed to my bra. "I shall remember it next time, Mako."

The brunet doesn't respond, instead darting between yet another attacker and the blond male.

Suoh Tamaki, the heir to the Suoh Clan, a princely knight who's words were decorated with double meanings. His only real talent was to woo people- both men and women alike.

My companion, Mako (who's last name I don't know) is assigned to protect the Suoh, and he would never let go of it if he failed his job, even in the slightest.

A limb flies towards my face, and I flick the blade up without another word, the finely honed edge biting hard into the dark skin. A liquid explodes over the white traditional clothing I was wearing, splattering the fine material with a canvas of red.

"Haiji," I call, a hand wounding around the attacker's arm to hold them immobile. "Are we killing or just injuring?"

"Injuring. Nothing to fatal, I h-"

Haiji cuts off in an instant, his mouth snapping shut and into a firm line as he collides with another attacker, who's hood flies back to reveal a mess of ginger hair. His hand smacks against their nose, a rather loud crack coming from the collision as Haiji, formerly in mid-air, lands on the ground, his hands poised to strike once more.

Behind him was the heir that he protected with his life.

Hitachiin Kaoru, someone who really wasn't a 'heir', yet one at the same time. His older twin, Hikaru, refuses to acknowledge the fact that he is, in fact, the older one, and technically the heir of the Hitachiin Clan.

"Sorry, my lord," Haiji states, his eyebrows drawn together. "I was almost too late."

Kaoru's mouth quirks into a slight frown, as if he was about to object to the older, grey-haired man. "U-Uh... it's fine, I guess..."