A/N: The following chapter contains descriptions of blood and sad things.

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Ryuzo. Bleeding.

I ran to him, fearful tears filling my eyes. "Baby," I could barely get out a whisper. With shaking hands, I peeled back the layers of his kimono and checked his wound. The large gash just below his ribcage was clean through and through, blood spilling with every labored breath he took. I placed his hand over it again quickly, applying pressure. "You're okay. You're okay," I told him.

He had lost a frightening amount, but bodies held a lot of blood. I had seen patients bleed out before, and it was a far more horrifying amount than this.

He wasn't dying. I could do something.

Ryuzo looked at me with wet eyes and a pleading expression. "Mina, you have to leave."

"No," I snapped, then pulled my cardigan off, tearing off a sleeve with adrenaline-fueled strength.

"Mina." He tried to stop me with a hand. "They're still here."

I had been ignoring the voices and occasional screams coming from the adjacent room. Since I saw Ryuzo, nothing else mattered to me. History would not repeat itself. Not with me. Not with him.

"What did I say? You don't get to tell me to walk away from the people I care about, remember?" I whispered with glaring emphasis. His brow creased deeper with his understanding. "I am not leaving without you."

I packed his wound with torn cloth and took the rest to wrap around his middle. The sound of close footsteps grabbed my attention.

In the doorway across the room from us, a shadowy figure moved. I waited, not breathing, just watching.

A man in all black walked into the moonlight, a katana in his hand, the blood-stained tip floating just an inch above the floor. With his next step, the light fell over his face, revealing the intricate leather mask.

It was the same as the one the guests wore after the party in Yokohama, a source of laughter the night Ryuzo returned with literal blood on his hands. Standing in a room of bodies, there was no humor in that demon's face.

I pressed my back to Ryuzo's chest, shielding him from view and from whatever might happen. The man's face turned toward us.

My heart pounded, but not in fear. The only visible part of his face were hollow, dark eyes. I stared him down and shook my head, telling him not to try anything, silently warning him not to come for me, not to make his problem bigger by killing a gaijin. But he stepped closer.

I braced myself over Ryuzo. Unblinking, the tears streamed down my cheeks as I accepted the end of my journey. The possible painful end of my life.

He stared at me for what felt like a minute, then turned and walked away.

I blinked in confusion, but didn't waste time on another thought. Turning back to Ryuzo, I wrapped the rest of the ripped cloth around his waist and pulled it tight, making him groan in pain.

"You have to stand," I told him sternly. He looked at me with a face of sorrow, but I wouldn't accept it. "You can do this. You have to. For me."

I swung his arm over my shoulder and pulled him up to his feet.

My hand over his wound, my legs numb as I supported as much of his weight as I could, I took him from the room and down the short hall. Getting outside rejuvenated my hope, even when more of Ryuzo's weight fell on me and his steps fumbled. Only a few more steps.

He stifled a scream when I dropped him into the seat and buckled him in, my makeshift wrap already soaked with blood.

"Hold pressure. We'll be there soon."

It ran to the driver's seat and threw the little Scion into first.

Only one thought was in my head as I drove us at a dangerous speed down the busy streets and honked warnings while running the red lights. My focus was trained on the road, my destination, saving the man I loved.

When we hit a roadblock, I slammed my hands against the wheel.

"Mina, listen to me."

I glanced over at him, pretending not to see how pale he looked. "Don't try to talk. We will be at the hospital soon."

Fuck this. I popped the little car onto the curb, taking the sidewalk to pass the cars at the light, and made my turn. We were close. We would make it.

"I love you, Mina," he said intently, his voice barely above a whisper. "I am sorry for what I put you through, but please. If I don't survive this . . ."

"Shut the fuck up, Zo. You are not dying on me."

"If I don't, Mina . . . I want you to be free. I want you . . . to find a place where you can be happy."

"You are not dying," I told him again, blinking back my tears so I could see the road. "You are not leaving me, because if you do, I will stay miserable and alone just to fucking spite you!"

A weak attempt at a laugh left him, but quickly changed to a cough. He took a deep, shaking breath. "Thank you . . . for letting me love you. More than I thought . . . I could love anyone."

"We're almost there," I told him.

"I love you," he whispered. "My sakura . . ."

I looked over, his eyes closed before he slumped over. "Zo, don't you fucking dare! Zo?" I shook his shoulder and he slumped further. "Zo?!"

I slammed the gas to the floor and didn't stop until the red cross glowed into my eyes. Whipping the car into the ambulance drop-off, I blared the horn and went to get him out.

Two staff came through the door, seeing the bloody scene while I screamed for help. The stretcher came with three other people, and they took him while a nurse checked on me.

I realized I was covered head to toe in Ryuzo's blood. "He was stabbed," I explained. "He has tattoos but people save him! Please! I beg you, please!" I cried.

. . .

They took him back to surgery and threw me into a patient room, security hovering outside, pretending to be there for other reasons. The nurse from earlier returned with a pair of scrubs and told me to shower so she could check on me. Powerless, I did as she said.

I stared at myself in the mirror, feeling like I was looking at a patient rather than my reflection. With my bloodied clothes piled in the corner, red streaks still covered my chest and knees, the rest was drying uncomfortably on my hands. Crimson flowed like a dyed waterfall from my fingertips as it went down the drain. I stood and watched it fade slowly to pink, then clear, not noticing how hot I had turned on the water until it scalded my skin.

I paced the room, checking on Susu and Jiji waiting patiently in the carrier, sipping water as I waited for an update. When two people came into the room my hopes lifted. Until I saw their police badges.

I rolled my eyes. "You are Ms. Williams," the detective attempted to pronounce. I didn't answer. "We need to ask you questions."

"I am not talking to you until you call my embassy."

They kept trying, attempting to ask them in different ways to get me riled up enough to speak, but I didn't care.

"If you refuse to answer questions, we will have to arrest you."

"What crime did I commit? Delivering first aid? Transporting an injured person to the hospital for care?" I asked defiantly. "I am a healthcare professional who did her ethical duty. You do not get to arrest me for that. Call my fucking embassy!"

Finally, the detectives exchanged a glance, one leaving and one staying with me.

The nurse returned to the doorway, a slight smile on her face. My hopes lifted. "How is he?"

They rolled the bed in soon after, still intubated, his body covered by the sheets. The doctors spoke minimal English, but I caught all but a few words. Surgery was successful, but they were unable to save his spleen or one of his kidneys. 

He was critical, but stable. He was alive.

I went to him, kissing his forehead and resting mine against it. "I'm here, baby. You're going to be okay. I told you."

. . .

I wouldn't leave his side. I stared at him, watching every machine-assisted breath, holding his hand, hoping to feel his grip or see his eyes flutter open.

Too soon, the next set of unwanted visitors arrived. An agent from the U.S. embassy along with the second detective. They had sat me down, introducing themselves, asking if I needed anything. I barely heard their empty words, barely looked away from Ryuzo.

"What is your connection to the Fujiwara-kai?" the embassy agent asked. She was Japanese-American but sounded as if she had never set foot in Japan until she took this job. Her New York accent was thick, and her Japanese pronunciation was as good as mine. When I didn't answer, she asked, "Were you present for the events that just happened in Kabukicho-Shinjuku?"

Stupid rhetorical questions. "I'm not answering anything until I know he will be protected."

"The FBI has no authority in Japan. All we can do is negotiate with the Japanese authorities."

"Then I'm not saying shit."

She placed her hand on mine. "This conversation is privileged. Whatever you say to me cannot be used against either of you. I'm only trying to figure out what I need to do to help you."

"The love of my life is on life support, so excuse me if I'm not in a pleasant mood," I seethed.

"I know. It's okay. But anything you are able to tell me will help."

I didn't want to remember anything. Whatever energy I had left was focused on making sure he lived. But that was the point, wasn't it?

"I wasn't supposed to be there," I said. "Something told me to go, so I did."

"Intuition?"

That's what my grandma always said. Never ignore it. "What did they tell you happened?"

"There have been some rumblings between the families, but moving on Tokyo wasn't what they expected. They don't seem to have a viable suspect yet."

"Who was killed?" I asked her.

"Over thirty people, all upper ranks and leadership of Fujiwara-kai, as far as they can tell."

"And the oyabun?"

Her eyes dropped. "They found him among the bodies."

I scrubbed my hands over my face, wondering when I was going to wake up from this nightmare. Just a few days before, Ryuzo's father had been talking about my future as part of his family. Now, he was gone, and his son could have been, too.

"There are no reports of survivors other than Yokoyama Ryuzo-san, and that has been kept strictly confidential," she continued.

"But that means they could be keeping other things confidential as well, right?"

"Technically, yes, but if they had a lead, they wouldn't have so much focus on you. That's why I need you to help us. News is already getting around. It's likely the other gumi are doing their own investigations. If this is turning into a turf war, they need to get ahead of it."

"I won't help until I know no one will come after him. Yakuza or otherwise."

She nodded in understanding. "If, hypothetically, you did have important information, what would that be?"

"I know who did this. One of them stared right at me while the blood dropped off his blade," I said. I watched her eyes widen. "But I won't say anything unless I know they won't persecute Ryuzo or throw him to the other gumi as a sacrifice. He has no part in this."

She nodded an uncomfortable amount of times while she thought. "Okay. I know what to do." She stood and left the room.

I turned back to Ryuzo. Slipping my hand into his again, I pressed my lips against his temple. "Please wake up," I begged him in a whisper. "I need you."

His fingers twitched against mine.

. . .

An hour passed before the agent returned. The stack of paperwork in her arms and the look of success on her face seemed like good news. I went to her, letting my hopes rise. I wish I hadn't.

"They have agreed to transport Yokoyama-san to an associated base for his recovery if you tell them who was responsible for the attack," she explained.

"And what protection will he have after that?"

"He will remain under an alias on paperwork. After he is stable, he will be relocated to an undisclosed location in an allied territory, and given a different identity."

It seemed surreal. "So if I talk, will he be protected and be able to leave Japan and the Fujiwara?"

"Yes, but . . ."

The look on her face dashed the rest of my hopeful feelings. "But what?"

"You can't go with him."

I blinked, not understanding what she meant. "Why not?"

"Protection and immunity are separate issues, handled by our separate governments."

My brow tensed with confusion.

She looked down. "We have to work under the assumption that the Yakuza will take advantage of the situation and try to take Tokyo. If the other gumi find out he is alive, they will come for him while he is weak. And if what you said is true, the assassins have a very good reason to want you both dead as well."

My chest ached until tears stung at my eyes again. "You're saying if I do this, I can't see him again, but if I don't do this, he will die?"

Her brow furrowed as if she cared. "This is the best chance you have to protect him, Mina. The only chance you have."

I didn't want to hear her. I didn't want what she said to be true. My eyes went to Ryuzo again. His chest raised and lowered with even breaths. The white sheets showed the warmth that returned to his tan skin.

"Can I stay until he wakes up?" I asked in a whimper.

"I'm sorry. We have to evacuate you both."

"How soon?"

She frowned. "As soon as you sign the papers. And we need you to do that now."

I stared at Ryuzo, hoping he would wake up and give me the reassurance I needed. But, he already had. Time and time again.

This wasn't the past, this was nothing like the situation I had experienced before. I protected my friend and took the punishment to keep him safe. But for the man I loved, keeping him safe and taking the punishment meant doing the opposite as I had before.

There was no honor without sacrifice. There was no love without pain.

I reached for the pen and took the paper from her. Reading the statement through my tears, I scribbled my name.

She took them with a nod. "You have a couple of minutes. If you want to say goodbye."

Saying goodbye was the last thing I ever wanted to do. My laugh came out as a sob.

Alone, I furiously wiped away my tears, as if not wanting him to see them.

I sat next to him and nuzzled my head next to his on the pillow, feeling his warmth against me, smelling the last bit of his scent that lingered in his hair. For a moment, I pretended we were in bed together, waking up slowly on a day off, waiting for that beautiful moment when he'd wake up, see me, and smile like I was better than anything in his dreams.

"Zo?" I whispered. I slipped my hand into his. "Baby, can you hear me?"

His fingers twitched again, this time curling to wrap around my hand. His eyes fluttered for a moment, but never opened.

Seeing him alive, acknowledging what I was saying, made it suddenly feel real. Tears clouded my eyes and burned in my throat. Knowing this could be the last time I saw him made the air as breathable as water.

"You're safe now. I got you out and I've made sure they will protect you, But . . . They said I can't go with you," I said as my tears rolled down my cheeks. "I don't want to leave you. I don't want to be happy without you."

His grip on my hand loosened. Maybe I imagined it, maybe not, but I swore the tear that trailed from the corner of his eye was him saying goodbye. He was letting me go.

It shattered me.

"I love you so much, and I always will." I pressed one last, lingering kiss to his head. "See you, Ryuzo."

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A/N: Such a heartwarming, cozy book for the weekends, huh?

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