The God of War's Love

Chapter Three

I woke up to a drop of water hitting my forehead. When I opened my eyes and looked around me, I saw a small, cold, and damp cell, with a small bucket, a loaf of bread, and leftover horse hay for me to sleep on. Blanco was shivering and curling into me for warmth, and my heart ached.

I took my loaf of bread, broke it into pieces, and slowly fed her. Bread might not be the healthiest option, but it's the only one I have. I looked in the bucket and saw slightly murky water, but it looked healthy enough to drink. I set it out for Blanco if she got thirsty. I glanced down at my legs as I felt a dull throb of pain, and came face-to-face with ugly cuts. They looked two or three days old. God, how long was I unconscious? I took off my jacket, wrapped my kitten in it, and tore the clean fabric at the bottom of my shirt. I dipped my hand in the water, cleaned my wounds, and began to bandage them. The sound of footsteps, measured and imposing, echoed down the halls as I looked up to see Kenshin himself, looking down at me, with a hint of pity.

"You're finally awake, Akane." He said.

"Oh-oh? And upgrade from "woman"? How kind." I sarcastically responded.

"Here." He said with a look devoid of emotion. Cold and hardened, yet his eyes were deep. They told their own story. He handed me something wrapped in cloth. I slowly unwrapped it to see a new loaf of bread. "It wouldn't be fair for you to starve out of your own foolish naivety. You seem to be brave, but don't kill yourself for a little pest like that." He pointed at Blanco, who was almost done eating all of the bread. His unexpected kindness touched me, although he was the reason I was here in the first place.

"I give you my thanks," I said, bowing.

"Get up, Akane," he mumbled, with a hint of warmth in his voice. He sat, cross legged, on a small mat outside of my cage. "So, I could tell you were honest a few days ago when you brought up you having no clan. Tell me your story."

"Why should I?" I mumbled the question, inquisitively.

"I could kill you at any moment if you have no use for me," He said, without hesitation, "Tell. me. Your. Story." My blood ran cold as I realized the life this man leads, the life the people in this time period lead. A lack of feeling in killing. No remorse, no hesitance, no consequences (unless they were important). He could kill me; no one would care.

"I... I don't come from this time." I whispered.

He looked at me for a brief period of time before he said, surprised, "You... you're telling the truth?"

"I was with a man named Malcom while chasing my kitten, Blanco," I said, looking at the cat, asleep in my jacket, "and she jumped through a small portal. I followed, with him in suit."

"Interesting." He whispered. For a moment, he was silent; then, a high pitch whistle escaped his lips.

The ringing in my ears was adamant in trying to give me a headache. I covered my ears with my palms, and ducked to not hear it as much. The whistling stopped and Kenshin whispered, "My apologies."

A tall man with dark hair and green eyes appeared. Malcom?! He was clad in a pitch black ninja outfit, with a long katana strapped onto his waist. He bowed to Kenshin, and then caught sight of me, and I wonder what a sorry state I was in.

"Miss Akane..." He said guiltily.

"Malcom. What affiliation do you have with this woman?" Kenshin said coldly, not even glancing at him.

"Lord Kenshin, I... My lord, I'm not who you think I am." Malcom apathetically states, but his face bore guilt, shame, and fear.

"You are suggesting that you lied to me?" He said as he grabbed his short sword on his waist.

"Yes, my lord." Malcom whispered.

In a split second , Malcom was on the floor, and Kenshin was on top of him with the blade to Malcom's throat. The knife was dangerously close to jugular veins, the windpipe, and the digastric posterior belly. Kenshin knew where to hit to kill, but I can't let him hurt Malcom. They were right by my cell; I could reach them easily.

"Say your last words, Malcom, my ninja," Kenshin hissed. Malcom closed his eyes. Right before the blade touched Malcom's throat, I reached beyond the bars and grabbed the blade with my left hand. Blood oozed out of my palms and fingers as both Kenshin and Malcom looked at me in awe. I threw Kenshin's sword away, while they both remained in a stunned silence. Ignoring the stares, I poured water on my wounds, and put pressure on them. I have no stitches, but I need some. All I can do is keep the bleeding down.

"Akane," both Kenshin and Malcom whispered, and then looked at each other in hatred. I thought there was supposed to be respect between a vassal and lord? Tears welled in my eyes as I thought of my family, the ones I miss so dearly now.

A hand came through the door and touched my cheek as a silent tear fell. Not from pain, but from a deep longing to see my loved ones again. I've only been here for three days; let alone, only conscious for one, but I hate it here.

I glanced up to see a confused Kenshin, and farther down to see a guilty Malcom. As I pondered their reasoning for their actions, black swam across my vision. Shit! I think I'm gonna black out again. I have eaten in days and my bodies dehydrated, let alone my injuries. My eyes close as I leaned into Kenshin hand on my cheek.