Well, here it is folks; the final official installment of Oil and Water. Sorry it took so long; I had a research paper and like two tests to do, so I haven't had much time. Keep a look out for the special M-rated bonus chapter to go along with this. Not sure if it'll be an added part or a separate story, but it will definitely happen. For now though, just enjoy the ending to this wonderful story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Administration removed the Inter-Alternate Chapter. If you want to read it, visit my DeviantArt account. My username is SwamplingLvr. Look in my journal entries. That's the only place I can put it. Hopefully you guys can find it. It's the only thing I'll have posted on it. This is not my choice; administration apparently changed their minds about lemons. Tears all around. ?qh=§ion=&global=1&q=SwamplingLvr#/art/Oil-and-Water-Alter-Interim-Chap ter-362604403?_sid=425373ce Here's the link, just in case.

P.S. I went back and read thought the whole thing and...I noticed I wasn't very consisitent with the whole Kirara Tetsuo first child thing, so here's what you need to know. Kirara and Tetsuo have been married five years; their daughter Yukio was born the same year they married. Kirara is pregnant with their second child. Okay? Good.

Enjoy!

Oil and Water

Chapter 7: The Love

Kirara sat on Heihachi's porch, leaning over relaxed with one hand resting on her round belly. She watched Heihachi chase her five-year-old daughter, Yukio, around a tree in his wheelchair. The little girl shrieked with laughter and danced out of reach from Heihachi's waving scabbard. The retired samurai yelled in big, exaggerated threats but kept his laid-back smile plastered onto his face. Kirara chuckled at the sight. She hoped that running around with Heihachi's swift wheels on his heels would wear Yukio out, so she wouldn't feel the need to cause any mischief during the wedding ceremony. Her heart pounded when she remembered the big event set to take place later that day. Komachi, her dear little sister, was marrying Kikuchiyo, the man she truly loved. It was more than anything could hope for Komachi, and she was truly excited. Yet…Kirara still found herself wondering of what might have been, had she acted differently after the war. Tetsuo was a kind, understanding man, but there was still a part of Kirara that wished things had been different.

'Oh well,' she thought sullenly, 'nothing to do about it now.' She rubbed her belly, smiling at the enthusiastic kicks from the baby within; the baby Tetsuo had given her. Her eyes roved back up to the little girl romping about with the wheelchair-bound samurai. She cherished Yukio, and knew the young one couldn't ask for a better father. Kirara sighed, and then stood up; it was almost time to leave for the ceremony. Since Komachi was moving forward, maybe she should as well.

In the village graveyard, about half a mile downwind from the rice fields, Panko knelt beside his brother's grave. He and his father had buried Takao beside their grandfather, with the help of some of their friends. They placed his two halves together as they would be if he were whole, trying their best to keep his guts from spilling out into the earth. His father decided to take time away from Kanna to mourn his son.

Panko was sickened at his father's readiness to simply bend to Rikichi's will and forget about revenge. Takao had been murdered, for God's sake! The young man grabbed a handful of dirt from Takao's grave in front of him and filtered the earth through his callused fingers. He wouldn't stand idly by while his brother's murderer got what he wanted and married the woman his brother loved! Panko thrust a fist into the soft earth and stood up, shaking with rage. He would not let this injustice stand.

Katsushiro, fifth samurai of Kanna, gazed around at the rice fields being bathed in sunlight. A breeze caressed the trees and grass, and little birds and insects dipped into the irrigation trenches in the rice paddies for a sip of cool water. Katsushiro brushed his hair out of his eyes and continued his trek down the hill from Wing Rock into Kanna's forest. His daito hung loosely from his belt, his palm thumping against it every few steps. Even though he hadn't had to use his sword in almost ten years, just touching it was still a comfort to him. He fingered the scar across his left cheek; whenever he visited Kanna, he always felt compelled to touch the mark left on him by the war.

'I wonder if Heihachi-dono would be willing to spar today,' Katsushiro thought as he descended into Kanna's forest. 'He didn't want to do any real work the last time I was here. Hopefully he's kicked the laziness habit.' Katsushiro allowed himself a chuckle. Heihachi may have proclaimed he had given up samurai practice forever, but every once and a while Katsushiro was able to get him up and around, so to speak.

As he neared the bend of the valley where the river and the forest connected, Katsushiro heard a frantic shout from down the path. He lifted his eyes up, his hand instantly finding his sword, his awareness heightening. Someone usually only made that kind of noise when they were in trouble. A frantic pounding of footsteps thundered up the path towards him, and Katsuchiro lowered himself into a defensive crouch. He did not draw his sword yet; he wanted to be sure this was a threat he was facing. A figure rounded the corner of the path, and Katsushiro's eyes widened as he tried to bring their face into focus. He cursed his inconvenient myopia. The only other person he'd told about his sudden onset of nearsightedness was Heihachi; not even Kambei knew about his student's decreased sight. But that didn't hinder Katsushiro's path to become a greater samurai; he waved it off as a minor inconvenience.

Impatient to find out whom the approaching figure was, Katsushiro called out in a sharp, commanding tone.

"Who goes there?" he said loudly, sliding his sword just a few inches from its scabbard. The flash of the blade caught on the sunlight and the figure halted, throwing his palms in the air. "State your name," Katsushiro ordered.

"It's me, great samurai!" the figure called back. His voice was that of a young man, one Katsushiro instantly recognized.

"Panko?" he asked. The figure nodded and quickly jogged the remaining yard between the two of them. His face sharpened and Katsushiro felt his heartbeat slow in relief as he realized it was indeed the elder plow son. He sheathed his sword and straightened up, a concerned smile on his face. "Was that you who cried out just now?" he asked. "Is there something wrong my boy?" Panko eyes were red and puffy, like he'd been crying for a long time, and he trembled with what could have been a combination of rage and sadness. Katsushiro frowned, and then laid a hand on the young man's shoulder. "What's troubling you, Panko?" Panko took in a few shuddering breaths and gripped the samurai's arm.

"It's…terrible, great samurai," he gasped, fresh tears pooling in his wide eyes. "My brother's been…murdered!"

Katsushiro's blood grew cold, and he felt a throb in his neck. Takao was dead? It couldn't be; he was only twenty-two, and he was such a pleasant young man. Who could possibly want to kill someone as free-spirited and kind as Takao? Katsushiro grit his teeth as sudden anger flared in his chest. He grabbed Panko's shoulders and held him rigidly in front of him.

"Who did it Panko?" Katsushiro demanded. "Give me a name. I swear I will not allow such a crime to go unpunished." Panko's eyes widened and a gasp caught in his throat.

"Really great samurai?" he asked breathlessly. Katsushiro nodded fiercely.

"It is my duty as a samurai of Kanna to protect its people, and though I was not here to prevent this…horrible act, I will ensure Takao's death is avenged." Panko inhaled sharply and nodded, reaching forward to grip the front of Katsushiro's cloak. The samurai saw vivid desperation in the young man's eyes; he clearly wanted justice as soon as possible.

"I don't remember his name," Panko said breathlessly, his lips white as his knuckles. His voice cracked with rage. "But, he is a samurai, a rogue. He came to this village expecting we welcome him with shelter on his travels." Katsushiro let out a snarl; a true samurai should know he cannot simply demand respect; he must earn it. "We didn't like the look of him, so Rikichi-sama told him to seek shelter somewhere else. The samurai flew into a rage and told us we farmers should know our place. He's a mech, just like the Nobuseri. He even said himself he once worked for the bandits." Katsushiro's temper flared higher; a disciple of the Nobuseri dare threaten his protectorate village?

"Why did he kill Takao?" Katsushiro demanded. Panko's face twisted in rage.

"The mech's attention caught on Lady Komachi. He's been here for at least a week and he took a fancy to her. He said he would leave if she came with him." Katsushiro roared and shoved Panko away, for fear he would hurt the young man if he stayed too close. His guts twisted in disgust.

"Did he hurt Lady Komachi?" he asked. Panko's eyes darkened.

"Takao stepped in to defend her. He was in love with her, you know. He wanted to ask her to marry him, but hadn't gotten the chance yet." Katsushiro blinked for a moment; this was news.

"Really?" Panko nodded.

"He told the samurai to leave Lady Komachi alone, and the mech…" Panko's voice broke, more tears gathering. His fists trembled in such fury Katsushiro wondered if it wasn't him who had the possibility of coming to harm. "That filthy mech killed my brother. He just cut him down like he was a stalk of wheat! No chance to defend himself at all!" Katsushiro closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. It was disgraceful, no, evil! Such a monster could never be called a samurai. Katsushiro ran a clenched hand through his long hair. Why hadn't anyone sent word to him sooner?

"Where is he now?" he asked. Panko swallowed hard and pointed down the path toward the village.

"He's insane, I tell you. He said if Lady Komachi doesn't marry him he'll kill everyone in the village just like my brother. You have to do something, great samurai. I fear for our water priestess if she obeys him, and I fear for the rest of us if she doesn't." Katsushiro nodded vigorously. He reached over and drew his daito, setting his jaw and steeling himself. He'd gone almost three years without facing any kind of combat, but he wasn't about to back down from such a fight now. His friends were in trouble…Kirara's sister was in danger. A tiny needle of pain flared in the samurai's mind when he thought of the elder water priestess, but he shoved it away angrily. Now was not the time to dwell on past hurts.

"Take me to him, Panko," Katsushiro growled, nodding at the path. "I show this monster what it means to be a true samurai."

Katsushiro pelted down the path towards the village, Panko hot on his heels. His determined gaze was wrenched rigidly forward, so he did not see the triumphant grin on the plow worker's face.

Komachi felt as if her chest was twisting itself into different forms of knots, which unwound and retied themselves again. She stood behind the door to her sister's hut, staring at the floor and fumbling with the obi on her kimono. The teak-red robe had belonged to the girls' mother and worn at her own wedding. Kirara had worn the kimono at her wedding to Tetsuo, and insisted her sister follow the tradition for hers. Komachi shuddered and ran her fingers through her freshly combed hair. She was finally marrying Kikuchiyo, the one man she wanted to share her life with. He would become her husband, just as he had promised. How long had she waited for this moment? Was it the whole sixteen years since the war, or just the years since she had started to have more than child-adoration for the mech samurai? She didn't really care which one was the correct answer; all she knew was that the throbbing of her expectant heart wrestled painfully with the twisting in her nervous gut. Her thoughts drifted in different directions, from memories of her adventures with Kikuchiyo, to the events that had transpired in the last few days, to her love for the samurai, and finally to what would be awaiting the two of them once the ceremony and celebrations were over. A radical and unexpected shiver passed up and down Komachi's back. She understood the dynamics of being part of a marriage, having an already married sibling. She knew it was tradition for man and wife to consummate their union following the end of the celebrations. Unlike most villages, Kanna did not practice the group gathering around the couple's hut behavior, but everyone knew where the newlyweds went after all the festivities were over. The thought of her and Kikuchiyo sharing the final, deepest step of intimacy filled her with both anxiety and an almost painful yearning. The yearning was what alarmed her most, and she had to fight to keep it in check. She had to focus on the wedding first, and then she could worry about the rest later.

A soft knock on her door yanked Komachi back up to the surface of the present. She shook herself and straightened up, folding her hands in front and tucking her feet together.

"Come in," she said, wincing at how shrill her voice sounded. The doors slid over a couple of inches and Kirara poked her head inside, a gentle smile lifting her lips.

"It's almost time now," the elder water priestess said. She slipped in the doorway and then pulled it shut behind her. Komachi couldn't fathom how her sister could slip into a room like that with a belly as full as hers was. Kirara grinned and moved forward to clasp Komachi's trembling hands. Komachi desperately hoped she didn't look as nervous as she felt.

"Where's Yukio-chan?" she asked. Kirara chuckled.

"Tetsuo took her to find a spot to stand, though I doubt she'll linger by his side for very long. She's so excited to be the flower girl." Komachi grimaced.

"Is, ah, everyone already out there?"

"Just about. Rikichi asked me to come and fetch you, so they'll all be gathered by the time we get you out of here." She squeezed Komachi's hands and smiled warmly at her. "Are you nervous, darling?" Komachi swallowed hard, feeling her dowsing crystal clink against her arm. She wanted to say she wasn't nervous at all, that she was simply excited. But she didn't want to lie out right to her sister, especially since Kirara probably knew what it was like to have pre-wedding jitters. Kirara must have seen the truth in her face, because she made a sympathetic noise and wrapped her arms around Komachi. Komachi started, but quickly relaxed into her sister's warm embrace. The baby within Kirara moved against her chest, and Komachi giggled despite her worries.

"You have nothing to fear," Kirara whispered, stroking Komachi's hair. "Kikuchiyo is probably just as nervous as you are, maybe even more." She pulled back for a moment to study her sister's face and outfit. "How could he not be? He's marrying a beauty unlike any in this village." Komachi blushed and looked away, biting her lip. Kirara gently grasped her chin between her thumb and index finger and turned her face back forward. "It's okay to be nervous," she said quietly. She stroked Komachi's chin with her thumb, her eyes shining and a sort of sad happiness settling on her year-weary face. "Grandmother would be so proud of you, as would our mother." Komachi nodded, the burning of tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes.

"Do you think…he'll still want to?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. The light returned to Kirara's eyes and she spread her smile.

"He wouldn't dare back out now," she said firmly, "lest he call himself a coward. And I know he loves you, my dear." Komachi remembered Kikuchiyo's words in her ear, his vow of love, and she smiled as well. She met Kirara's eyes and nodded. Kirara hooked her arm with Komachi's and led her toward the door.

"Good, now, let's get this wedding underway, hm?"

Kikuchiyo clenched his fists so hard he nearly left dents in his palm. He glanced up for the fifth time at Rikichi, standing to his right at the head of the makeshift aisle. Rikichi offered him the same reassuring smile he had each time they made eye contact, and Kikuchiyo simply grunted and looked back down at the ground. He ground his jaws together and exhaled a blast of steam, feeling as though he was melting from the outside in. Only a few more minutes until the big moment; he'd never felt so scared in his life. In just a few more moments, he and Komachi would be exchanging their vows. He wasn't sure if he could remember what he wanted to say. There was the standard repeat-after-Rikichi lines the two of them would say for sure, but Kikuchiyo planned to say a little more before he and Komachi closed the ritual. Could he do it? Would he remember the words in the correct order? Would he say them before or after whatever she said? What would she say? When they kissed, should he kiss her with his oral-mod or just with his not-mouth? God, he felt like he was about to keel over on the spot. Maybe he should just shut down and let the ceremony proceed without him.

"There she is, Kikuchiyo!" Rikichi said softly, jolting the mech out of his panic-induced stupor. Kikuchiyo stiffened, and slowly turned his head to the left. Half of Kanna village was gathered in the meeting center, arranged in two neat blocks on either side of a cleared path in the dirt. No one wore anything glamorous or official, and there were no chairs or rugs to sit on. The farmers simply stood and waited, anticipation hanging like a fog around them. The crowd consisted mainly of those who lived in the village during the war, along with a few well-wishers who were eager to see their water priestess wed. Most of the newer settlers had opted not to come to the ceremony, since their feelings toward Kikuchiyo were still ambiguous. The women held their children firmly by their sides; the men crossed their arms and grinned expectantly. But not a single one of them drew Kikuchiyo's attention. No, what Kikuchiyo's visor's caught on was the goddess that had materialized at the head of the aisle. It took a moment for Kikuchiyo to separate fantasy and reality and realize that the goddess was Komachi. But, it wasn't Komachi like he'd seen her before. Her hair was combed and pulled up into a bun, pinned together with two sticks with sakura buds at the end. Her kimono was a deep red, even deeper than his armor's color, and it clung to her womanly figure in a way that had his metal steaming. Her hands were folded safely in front, her elbow bent out to accommodate Kirara's guiding hand. Okara stood just to the front of her right, her mischievous grin for once muted to a happy smile. Komachi's eyes were cast down to the ground when she first approached, but as she stepped on the long path to the front of the aisle, she slowly raised them up to meet Kikuchiyo's visor.

It was as if an arc of pure energy blasted between them at that moment. Kikuchiyo's awareness of the world completely fell away as he and Komachi's gazes met. All he could see was her, and he knew he was all she could see. He felt as if he could read her very thoughts through that one simple look: she was nervous as he was, but she was excited too. She was eager to get this ceremony under way. She was anxious to be married to him. He wondered if she could feel his thoughts and feelings too. Did she see how nervous he was? He sure hoped not; he was a samurai. If he could cut down Nobuseri with a flaming tree and halt a crashing airship, he could certainly face his own wedding.

But then, like the sun pushing through the clouds after a thunderstorm, Komachi smiled at him. Kikuchiyo's chest lightened as a mighty exhale escaped in the form of a steam cloud. He remembered why they were both there, and he hoped she could see the smile he tried to give her with his lack-of mouth. The woman he loved was there before him, waiting to be joined to him forever. What more could he ask for?

"Maybe you should stop staring at her, Kikuchiyo-dono." Kikuchiyo jumped and whipped around to level his gaze at Heihachi. The retired samurai sat in his wheelchair behind Kikuchiyo, in his place as best man. His laidback grin had a flavor of sarcasm around it, and Kikuchiyo growled in annoyance.

"Why should I?" Kikuchiyo hissed, angling himself so he could face the aisle and still see Heihachi out of the corner of his visor. He did not, however, take his visor off of Komachi "Can you see her? She's freaking gorgeous." Heihachi chuckled.

"Yeah, I can see her. We all can. But, maybe if you stopped staring she would actually move forward. You do want to actually marry her today, right?" Kikuchiyo balked, then took a closer look at his bride-to-be. Apparently his intent stare had her rooted to the spot, Kirara tugging insistently on her arm. Kikuchiyo felt his face plate boil and he quickly averted his gaze. "There you go," said Heihachi, the laughter still in his voice. Kikuchiyo was sure if he had skin his cheeks would be as red as his armor.

The procession was quick and clean. Kirara's daughter Yukio spread white petals down the aisle, giggling and dancing around in a thrill at being the center of attention for a few brief moments. Kikuchiyo was surprised at how much the little girl looked like her mother; same eyes, same nose, same mouth, even the same ears. The only thing of Tetsuo he could see in her was her greenish hair. Okara hurried down the aisle after her to take her place abreast to Heihachi, her jaw clenched as though she was holding in a laugh. Then, Kirara and Komachi approached, so slowly Kikuchiyo wanted to pull his hair in anticipation. Komachi's cheeks flushed and she cast her eyes back to the ground; Kikuchiyo hoped he didn't make her too nervous. When they reached the head of the aisle, Kirara turned and kissed her sister on the cheek, then stepped away to her spot just in front of Okara. Komachi finally raised her eyes back up to Kikuchiyo and smiled again. If Rikichi said anything, the samurai didn't hear it. He couldn't feel his own breath, nor could he hear his own heartbeat. All he was aware of was Komachi's smiling face. Then someone nudged him on the elbow, and he vaguely heard Heihachi's whispered instruction.

"Take her hand, you idiot." Kikuchiyo nodded numbly, then extended his hand down to Komachi. His stomach clenched and his heart rate shuddered when he saw how badly his hand shook. Komachi took his hand in hers, turned it over and gently brushed a kiss on his gloved palm. That alone was enough to snap Kikuchiyo out of his reverie. He shook himself and gave her a robot smile, and the two of them turned to face Rikichi, hands clasped between them.

Katsushiro and Panko raced down the forest path, the entance to Kanna village looming ever closer.

"We must hurry!" Panko pleaded from behind Katsushiro. "I think the mech plans on forcing Lady Komachi to marry him today. We can't let him take her!"

"Don't worry," Katsushiro growled, picking up the pace as the village entrance finally ceased to blur before him. "I won't let this monster hurt anyone else."

The two of them burst out of the tree line and halted for a moment, casting wary eyes around. The village almost seemed deserted at first glance, not a single person to be seen in or out of the huts. Katsushiro gripped the hilt of his sword so tightly his hand cramped, cursing his low visual distance. He then spotted a mass of what looked like people gathered in the village center, and he stiffened.

"Panko," he whispered, nudging the young man with his elbow. "Is that it? I see something going on over there." He squinted to try and make out the figure standing out among the crowd. It looked like a mech, towering completely over the heads of the farmers. Katsushiro was sure he saw a sword on its back. Panko gasped and pointed frantically.

"That's him!" he shrieked, grasping Katsushiro painfully by the shoulder. "That's my brother's killer! Oh my God, it's already happening!" Katsushiro grit his teeth and took off towards the crowd, his daito angled for the attack.

"Not if I can help it," he snarled.

"So remember to always cherish each other," Rikichi intoned, grinning at the prospective couple, "and lean on each other when you need it. Now, if you could turn to each other, we'll start the vow exchange." Kikuchiyo and Komachi pivoted to face each other, reaching to clasp both hands. Kikuchiyo wondered if he would have to say his vows first, and if he'd rather wait or just get it over with. But, before anyone could say anything about anybody, a horrible, rage-filled battle cry tore through the peaceful morning air, making everyone gathered wince in surprise. Kikuchiyo's defensive programming booted up and he stiffened, his shoulders tensing and his senses heightening. Komachi's smile disappeared and she gasped, turning to look towards the direction of the cry. Kikuchiyo gripped her hand and pulled her back while simultaneously stepping forward, effectively putting himself between her and the interruption.

"What the hell?" Heihachi's smile also vanished and he wheeled himself to perch beside Kikuchiyo. The two samurai reached for their swords, but before they could draw them, an astonished exclamation shattered their edginess.

"Katsushiro?" Kirara cried, her hands over her mouth. Rikichi pushed out from behind Kikuchiyo and Komachi, and offered his own exclamation.

"Great samurai!" Kikuchiyo's visor latched onto the body barreling towards the gathered crowd, and his heart leapt in excitement, temporarily blotting out his previous defensiveness. Katsushiro was racing towards them from the village entrance, and Kikuchiyo ran his visual feed over every detail of his old friend's face. The youngest samurai had definitely aged in the sixteen years since the end of the war, perhaps even more so than Heihachi or anyone else he had known. The man's formally boyish face had lost its roundness and soft edges, to be replaced with a broad jaw and well-defined cheekbones, as well as a surprisingly strong brow. He had a few more scars than before, and a lot more hair. His simple trainee ponytail had bloomed into a wind-tossed mane of green streaked with grey; something Kikuchiyo wondered wasn't a subtle show of homage to the man's sensei. Kikuchiyo's excitement would have been ecstasy if it weren't for the rage twisting Katsushiro's handsome features, or the sword held at a perfect strike angle at his side as he pelted towards them. It was almost as if he was planning to attack someone…

"Hey, Katsu!" Kikuchiyo stepped down into the aisle, hands held up in greeting. He would have been a little more enthusiastic, but Katsushiro's manner was too disconcerting to ignore. When the youngest samurai reached the center of the aisle, he halted, kicking up a cloud of dust around his feet. He gritted his teeth and wrenched his sword forward, stepping into a fighting stance. Kikuchiyo eyed the daito, freshly sharpened in the gleam of the sunlight. He held his hands up where they were and slowly took another step forward.

"Don't take one more step!" Katsushiro snarled. Kikuchiyo halted, his visor glowing.

"What's up with you, Katsu?" he asked heartily, trying to sound amused where he really felt worried. Katsushiro's glower turned uglier than it had been before.

"How do you know my name?" he demanded. Kikuchiyo started to answer, but Katsushiro simply shook his head and ground out more of a shout. "I don't care! I know all that you've done, mech, and I intend to see to it you are given the justice you deserve!"

Kikuchiyo's blood-oil compound went cold. He stared down at the green-haired samurai, unable to fathom what the man had said. Had he just…?

"Katsu," he said, the hurt suddenly bubbling forward like blood from a gash, "don't you recognize me?"

"We have never crossed paths," Katsushiro snarled. Kikuchiyo started, his jaws parting in shock.

"What are you talking about? It's me, you're old pal Kikuchiyo." Katsushiro's scowl broke for a moment, his brow furrowing in confusion, but then he shook his head and fixed the scowl back in place.

"How dare you!" he spat. "You think you can fool me with a false voice, mech? I know my friend Kikuchiyo, and you are not him. He died from his wounds a long time ago. You obviously questioned the farmers beforehand to find out about him. So, you knew I was coming? Then you shouldn't be surprised to see me. Draw your sword and fight me, murderer!" Kikuchiyo balked, stepping back a pace. The crowd around them erupted into outraged protests, but Katsushiro held up his hand for silence. Unsure, the farmers obeyed. "Now, now, no need to worry, people of Kanna," he said solemnly, still glaring at Kikuchiyo. "I have been told all of what has happened, and I promise you that this...monstrous excuse for a samurai," he pointed at Kikuchiyo, "will no longer be a threat to you. I have come to drive him off." He angled his sword back, his eyes positively deadly. "You will not take Lady Komachi, you bandit. She has free will, as do the rest of these good people. They do not cower under your metal foot like cowards any longer. Now, step away from Lady Komachi and face your justice."

"Katsushiro!" Before anyone could stop her, Kirara ran forward and put herself between the two samurai, arms spread. Katsushiro's face paled and his scowl disappeared completely.

"Madam Kirara?" he said in shock. "What are you doing?" Kirara shook her head, her face anguished. From somewhere in the second row, Tetsuo pushed forward to stand near the aisle, should anything happen. Little Yukio stared wide-eyed at her mother, hands to her mouth.

"You can't do this, Katsushiro," Kirara said pleadingly. Katsushiro grimaced, his face pained, as though just looking at her was difficult for him.

"Please, move Kirara. I don't want you to get hurt. That mech is dangerous."

"No, he isn't! You don't understand—"

"No, I do understand. It's alright, Panko told me everything." A blast of steam exploded from Kikuchiyo's exhaust pipe.

"PANKO!?" he roared, dropping his hands, which had clenched into fists. Katsushiro's scowl returned.

"Yes, that's right!" he growled. "You murdered his brother for trying to protect Lady Komachi from you, you monster. Now you're forcing her to marry you or you'll kill the rest of the villagers, just like poor Takao."

"That's a lie!" Komachi pushed past Kikuchiyo and stomped over to stand beside her sister. Kikuchiyo's heart pounded and his breath caught at the sight of his bride-to-be facing down an angled sword. He wanted to move to shield her, but he wasn't sure if Katsushiro might strike if he moved, and he didn't want Komachi to be caught in the crossfire. Komachi glared at Katsushiro, so menacingly that the samurai balked a second time, his eyes widening.

"Lady Komachi?"

"Kiku is not a murderer!" Komachi shrieked, stamping her foot. "He killed Takao to protect me! Takao kidnapped me because I didn't want to marry him, and Kiku came to rescue me. Takao was about to kill me, so Kiku killed him. He had no choice."

"That's the real lie!" Kikuchiyo looked up and his insides boiled at the sight of Takao's older brother trudging down the aisle, his face red with rage. "That mech killed my brother in cold blood! He deserves to die too!" Komachi howled in fury and flew past Katsushiro at the plow worker. She balled her slim hand in a fist and threw it at Panko, who was too stunned to react. Her fist sunk into Panko's right eye, throwing the plow worker back a few steps. He didn't stumble really because she hit him with much force; it was more from surprise. Everyone stared at Komachi, with her reddened face, her hair slightly undone from running at Panko, her fist shaking in the air. Kikuchiyo, despite the serious situation, couldn't help but feel a rush of admiration and amusement at his bride's feisty action. It was…sexy.

"How dare you!" Komachi screeched. She then slapped Panko hard across the face. "You think you can just tell lies to turn friends against each other just for your own selfish means? This is my wedding day, dammit! I'm not going to let your hurt feelings get in the way of me marrying the man I love!" Panko stared at her, his face livid beneath the blooming bruise across his eye and the red welt across his cheek. His arm twitched, like he was about to slap her, but then an arm flew out of the crowd and pounded Panko, hard, in the temple. The plow worker crumpled and collapsed onto the ground, out cold.

"Foolish boy," said Sanae, shaking her hand out to stave off the sting.

Katsushiro whipped around to stare at Komachi, his sword slowly lowering from its ready position.

"Love?" he said, his voice almost comically high. "You…love him? Wait, did you just call him Kiku?" Komachi glared at Katsushiro; apparently she had no room for sympathy for someone who had been fooled by such an outlandish lie.

"That," she snapped, pointing at Kikuchiyo, "is Kiku. Ki-ku-chi-yo. He didn't die sixteen years ago; he was fully repaired. He just looks different because his wounds were so great, he was reformatted. Look again, Katsu; you'll see." Katsushiro looked back around, his eyes narrowed suspiciously up at Kikuchiyo. Kikuchiyo felt nailed under his gaze, like being pounded with a hammer. But, he did not look away.

"He looks nothing like Kikuchiyo," Katsushiro said warily. Kikuchiyo ground his jaws and started to say something, but Heihachi wheeled himself around and into the aisle, creating yet another barrier between the two samurai.

"Come here and look closer, Katsushiro," said the woodcutter calmly, his relaxed smile back in place. Katsushiro latched his gaze onto Heihachi.

"Heihachi-dono?"

"It's okay, Katsushiro," said Heihachi, beckoning gently. "I know you can't see very well anymore. You'll feel better when you can actually see Kikuchiyo clearly."

Everyone fell silent, or more so than they had been. Kirara stared at Katsushiro, her hand over her mouth, as did Komachi. Kikuchiyo's guts clenched. Katsushiro couldn't see him? Katsushiro's eyes widened and he gave Heihachi a very hurt look.

"You promised…"

"I know I did, but obviously this problem has gotten out of hand. Now, come here and greet your friend. It is his wedding day after all." Heihachi tilted his head back and gave Kikuchiyo the thumbs up. Katsushiro slowly sheathed his sword, then took a few cautious steps forward.

"Closer," said Heihachi. Kikuchiyo could see Katsushiro's throat work in a swallow. Katsushiro walked forward the last length of the aisle and came to a halt just a few feet in front of Kikuchiyo. When they appraised each other, Katsushiro's eyes grew the roundest Kikuchiyo had ever seen them. It almost made him laugh. Katsushiro made a choking noise, like a fish out of water.

"Ki…Kikuchiyo-dono?" he gasped. Kikuchiyo couldn't take it; that boyish awe from the young samurai he befriended long ago had finally returned to this war-hardened man that stood before him. Kikuchiyo guffawed like an idiot, doubling over and clutching at his stomach. His laughter was contagious to everyone around him, and soon the entire wedding party was laughing, even though they had all been either afraid, angry or worried just a few seconds before. Kikuchiyo straightened up, wiping a tear from his visor, and beamed down at Katsushiro. He opened his arms and wrapped the youngest samurai in a fierce bear hug that had Katsushiro yelping in discomfort.

"Katsu, you hard-head!" Kikuchiyo laughed, squeezing the air out of the man's lungs. "If you wanted to crash my wedding, all you had to do was ask!" When he finally set Katsushiro down, the man needed to take a moment to catch his breath before he could speak again.

"I…I don't understand," Katsushiro wheezed. His cheeks were slightly flushed, like he was embarrassed. "I haven't heard a single word of you since the end of the war. Why didn't you write to me or anything?" Kikuchiyo scratched the back of his helm, huffing sheepishly.

"Guess it never occurred to me, but I mean, it's not like I knew where you were. I haven't heard word of you since then. I only found out what you've been up to from Heihachi." Katsushiro sighed heavily and shook his head, his shoulders finally relaxing.

"I can't believe this. This was the last way I wanted to see you if we ever met up again." A frown crossed the man's face and he looked back up at Kikuchiyo. "Is it true, though? Did you really kill Takao?" Kikuchiyo's shoulders sagged, and he felt a hole open in his chest. His bullet wound and newly replaced audio flared in dull pain.

"Yeah, it's true," he said solemnly. "I had no choice though. He kidnapped Komachi and held her captive after she turned down his proposal. I went to get her back and we got in a fight. Takao shot me in the side and Komachi tried to help, but he knocked her out. She got a concussion from hitting the wall. Takao was going to shoot her too—he was completely nuts. I had no choice; if I hadn't killed him he would have killed her…and I couldn't let that happen." He glanced at Komachi, who still stood in the aisle. "I love her, Katsu, that's why I'm marrying her." Katsushiro glanced back at Komachi as well, and saw the gentle smile curving her lips as she returned Kikuchiyo's look. The youngest samurai sighed again and rubbed his eyes. Kikuchiyo thought he saw his bottom lip tremble. But, when Katsushiro returned his gaze to the mech's, he was beaming.

"It seems I have made a terrible mistake, old friend. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." Kikuchiyo let out another boom of laughter and once again swept Katsushiro up into a hug.

"Consider it forgotten!" he roared. "Now why don't you go stand next to Heihachi? I need another groom's man, since Komachi has two already. Rikichi, let's get this wedding back on track, huh?"

The rest of the wedding went smoothly, especially after a few of the men from the village, including Mosuke and Yohei, locked Panko in a storage hut. Katsushiro stood behind Heihachi in the groom's men's line, watching the ceremony with a calm smile. Kikuchiyo and Komachi exchanged their vows with much emotion, to the point that both of them where in tears by the time they were done. When Rikichi instructed them to slip their rings on each other's fingers, Kikuchiyo's hand shook horribly as he put Komachi's on her slender finger. She smiled up at him and tugged his glove off, and gently slid the circle of silver over his metal finger. Her touch was soft as fleece, and he shuddered.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," Rikichi said with a grin. "Or should I say, 'mech and wife'?" Komachi held Kikuchiyo's hand in her own.

"'Man and wife' is just fine," she said softly. Kikuchiyo lifted his free hand to stroke her cheek.

"Man and wife, eh?" he said, the grin in his voice obvious to everyone. "I could get used to that." Komachi laughed, and then sprung like a gazelle up into Kikuchiyo's surprised arms. Before he could get a word in, Komachi pressed her lips to his jaws, her arms circling up around his neck and her hands cupping the back of his head. The crowd cheered wildly, whistling and stamping their feet. Kikuchiyo didn't bother to transform his jaws; he simply reveled in the soft yet heated presence of Komachi's lips against his metal not-mouth, like she anchored him to the world with her soft presence.

"I love you," Komachi whispered against his jaws, not removing her lips. Kikuchiyo rumbled in his chest, a warm glow spreading like lava throughout his body.

"I love you more," he intoned, so only she could hear him.

Around the two newlyweds, Kirara caught Katsushiro's eye, or at least she thought she did. He stared right at her, his expression completely blank. She flushed and looked away for a quick moment, but then wrenched her gaze back to him. Something passed between the two of them, like an unspoken consent.

The wedding feast was already laid out and ready to go when the ceremony was officially over. The farmers of Kanna broke out their best stocks of sake and gorged on rice and leeks, along with a specially prepared set of wild ducks caught just for the occasion. Kikuchiyo, Katsushiro and Heihachi talked and laughed about their adventures and exploits, with Rikichi joining in after a few cups of sake. Komachi visited with her girlfriends and braided Yukio's hair, her little niece sitting contentedly in her lap. The villagers talked, ate, drank, even danced to a few local ditties around the bonfire. The entire messy affair with Panko's lie was almost completely forgotten; the only reminder was the occasional thump from the storage shed or the shouted curse.

"We'll deal with him later," Rikichi promised, punching his palm. "We'll probably knock him out again and send him down the river with some supplies. He won't be welcome back in these parts again." Kikuchiyo was definitely grateful for this news; he didn't want the blood of another farmer on his hands should Panko prove to be more trouble than he was worth.

The celebration lasted well into the night. The crescendo was definitely the moment Komachi pulled Kikuchiyo to his feet and forced him to dance with her around the bond fire. After a few embarrassing displays of clumsiness, Kikuchiyo was, luckily, saved when more of the villagers decided to join in. Eventually, almost every man, woman, and child jumped and swayed around the fire in time to drums and strings of the village players. The dance lasted until the players ran out of songs, and nearly everyone dropped to the ground in exhaustion. It was then that Rikichi called out for the end, supporting a giggling Sanae on one arm.

"I think that is where we can call it a night, everyone," he laughed. There were half-hearted shouts of protests, but most everyone agreed; it was time for bed. Rikichi raised his arm to Kikuchiyo and Komachi, who stood panting near the bond fire, leaning against each other. "Once more, I offer my congratulations to the two of you, and I wish you all the happiness there is to have. May your family flourish, and may your love never waver. Now, everyone to bed, let's go!"

Komachi sighed and rubbed her eyes, feeling a little lightheaded from the sake she'd drunk. Her feet ached horribly from the dancing, and she didn't really want to walk anywhere. She tugged on Kikuchiyo's sleeve; her feet didn't hurt enough to truly bother her, but she didn't want to lose an excuse to have her new husband carry her.

"Yes?" Kikuchiyo asked, sweeping a strand of hair out of her eyes. She beamed at him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I don't feel like walking anywhere," she drawled. She lifted a leg and gently rubbed it against his knee. "Would you carry me home?" Kikuchiyo chuckled, and then scooped her up into his strong metal arms. He nuzzled his fore plate against her forehead.

"As you wish, my darling," he cooed. "You want to go back to my place, or should we spend the night in your hut?" Komachi grinned.

"Your hut is my hut now; we are married after all." Kikuchiyo robot-smiled and brushed his jaws against her lips.

"That we are."

"Besides," she said, reaching up and stroking his bottom jaw with a single finger, "I want us to be…alone, and out of sight. I don't want to disturb anyone." Kikuchiyo shuddered, and tightened his grip on her slightly.

"I couldn't agree more," the mech rumbled. With a nod to Heihachi and Katsushiro, Kikuchiyo headed towards the village entrance, Komachi clinging tightly to him. Komachi sighed and tucked her face in between his neck guard and his shoulder, closing her eyes and reveling in his warmth. She would share this night with her husband, and nothing would make her happier. Her heart quickened in anticipation, as the moment when she and Kikuchiyo would truly become a part of each other drew ever near.

Kirara watched Kikuchiyo carry her sister away, a heartened flutter sounding behind her womb, causing the baby within to squirm. She hoped the newlyweds would enjoy the night together...and a part of her hoped they wouldn't push it this first night. She scanned the slowly dwindling crowd and found the object of her preoccupied mind. Katsushiro was by the edge of the huts, in conversation with Heihachi about something she couldn't hear. Kirara's heart quickened at the sight of him, just as it had every time she laid eyes on him since he arrived. She wasn't sure what she planned on doing, but she knew whatever it was, it had to be done fast before she lost it. A gentle tap on her shoulder made Kirara gasp and jump, her hand flying to her heart.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be so quiet." Tetsuo stood beside her, his face tired but happy; a sleeping Yukio was sprawled in his arms. Kirara sighed and shook her head.

"It's fine; I was elsewhere." She turned towards him so he couldn't see her line of sight, but he probably guessed anyway.

"I'm heading home to put this one in bed," said Tetsuo, gently shifting Yukio to a more comfortable position. Kirara nodded and leaned over to kiss her daughter on the cheek. Yukio smiled in her sleep.

"Go on. I'll be along shortly. Don't wait up for me." Tetsuo nodded, gave Kirara a peck on the forehead, then turned to trudge down the path to their hut. Kirara watched him go with a heavy heart; she so wished she could love him the way he loved her. There was no rational reason she shouldn't, but she knew her reason wasn't rational at all. Tetsuo said he understood, and he would be her friend if she wished; she wished he could be more. Taking a deep breath, Kirara turned her attention back to Katsushiro, and moved forward, her hands clasped and her shoulders squared.

"But, what do I know? Speaking of which," said Heihachi, changing direction from the conversation he and Katsushiro had been having, "maybe it's time I moseyed on back home." Katsushiro gave him a confused look, then noticed the woodcutter samurai was looking at something over his shoulder. Katsushiro turned, and his stomach turned over. Kirara was approaching from behind, but she halted when he spotted her a few feet away. She seemed surprised when he noticed her, but her expression was neutral. Katsushiro cleared his throat and dipped his head in a slight bow.

"Madam Kirara," he said politely. She dipped her head in return, and Katsushiro was surprised to spot anxiety beneath her stoniness.

"Heihachi, do you think we can have some time?" Kirara asked quietly. She didn't take her eyes off of Katsushiro, and he shifted uncomfortably. Heihachi shrugged, his smile as carefree as ever.

"Fine by me," he said. He gave Katsushiro a pat on the elbow, then wheeled his chair around and headed towards the exit at the back of the village. "Just don't you two kids stay up to late, m'kay?" Both Katsushiro and Kirara blushed and looked away from each other for a moment, until the retired samurai disappeared from sight. Katsushiro then dragged his eyes back up to rest on Kirara. She was within his range of vision; her hands clasped over her rotund belly, her cheeks flushed a rose-red. Her lips were lightly parted, and her breathing seemed a little shallower than it should have been. When she lifted her eyes to meet his, he suppressed an involuntary shiver; her eyes hadn't changed in all these years. She still had a….power over him.

"Kirara," he said quietly, but his throat caught on his words. She looked at him for a long moment, then held out her arm to him.

"Walk with me?" she asked. Katsushiro hesitated, but the pleading in her eyes was too much for him to resist. He nodded wordlessly and looped his arm around hers.

Kirara led Katsushiro down the small dirt footpath that led out of the side of the village towards the rice fields, just as Tetsuo had done that very morning. When they reached the line where trod dirt ended and grass and crop began, Kirara halted, nearly tripping Katsushiro.

"Are you alright?" Katsushiro asked. Kirara nodded, not looking at him for a moment. Katsushiro tried to remove his arm so he could turn and get a better look at her, but she held him tightly pinned to her side. "Kirara?" Kirara breathed in deeply through her nose, blew out of her mouth, and then turned to fully face him.

"Katsushiro," she said quietly, taking his hands in hers. She stopped for a moment, needing to take another breath, but she steeled herself quickly and continued. "I know…you and I haven't really talked in a long time…and I'm sorry for that." She raised her gaze to his. "I'm sorry for everything." Katsushiro's throat tightened and his heart rate jumped to a level to equal combat, but he did not break eye contact nor did he back down.

"Kirara, you don't have to—"

"Katsushiro, please." She gripped his hands tightly, so he could feel his own pulse pounding against his palms. "Just let me speak. What I said to you after the war, the last time we talked face-to-face, was not okay. It was unfair and petty of me to call you…what I did. I didn't…understand. I was upset and scorned, and I took it out on you. I'm so, so sorry." She tentatively released one of his hands, and raised her free hand to cup his cheek. Katsushiro inhaled sharply at the sudden touch, his face growing uncomfortably hot, his ears filling with the thump of his flying heart.

"Kirara…"

"I was blind," the water priestess whispered. "I was a silly girl in love with an idea, blind to the actual man standing before me." Katsushiro felt his fingertips and toes grow numb, his lips tingling. He couldn't….but…he had to. Kirara parted her full lips to say something more, but Katsushiro quickly blocked any further speech with his own mouth.

Kirara tensed as Katsushiro suddenly pressed his lips against hers. She certainly hadn't expected him to be so forward; she hadn't really expected anything from him. If anything, she was certain he'd be angry or coy with her after having to endure her distance for sixteen years. For a moment, as Katsushiro worked his steady yet gentle mouth against hers, Kirara was a young woman again, pressed against a wall in an alleyway near Firefly House. Katsushiro had asked her to come with him when he left the group, and he was holding his mouth against hers in a trusting kiss. Only this time, sixteen years later, she didn't resist him. She didn't keep her lips pressed firmly together, and she didn't keep her eyes open. Kirara's eyes drifted closed and she sighed, leaning into him. Katsushiro wrapped one arm around her shoulders and placed his other hand on her hip, and deepened the kiss. Kirara's hands encircled his neck as she responded in kind, her breath coming out in gentle sighs.

When they finally broke the kiss, the two were panting, lips red and puffed, eyes shining. When Katsushiro finally found the strength to speak, it came out in a hoarse whisper.

"We…we shouldn't have done that," he wheezed. He tried to push her away, but his arms refused to move from their spots around her. Kirara blinked, her brow furrowing. "You're married, Kirara. You have a child, and you're expecting another. This…this wasn't right." Kirara sighed again and shook her head.

"Tetsuo knows how I feel about you," she said quietly. "He knows everything…and he's alright with it."

"How?"

"He's a good man, and he cares about my happiness. I wish I could love him the way he loves me…but it's just not there." She raised her eyes back to him. "He's not you, Katsushiro." Katsushiro frowned, but it was more in sadness than anger.

"When why did you marry him in the first place?" he asked.

"Because, I was ashamed at my behavior, and I was scared of being alone. I didn't want to live with the guilt of what I had done to you alone. He…he was what I needed; a buffer, to help me heal and figure things out eventually." Katsushiro sighed like her, then smiled and caressed her cheek.

"Then I am forever grateful to him," he said. He bit his lip, a curious thought occurring to him.

"So, you don't, you know, feel the same way about…about Kambei-sensei?" Kirara's face fell, weighed down by years.

"I didn't know for a long time…but I realized eventually that I was more in love with the idea of him than him himself. I was in love with what he represented, not who he was. You though, you're you. You're Katsushiro; that's all I need." Katsushiro smiled again and stroked her cheek a second time.

"This isn't exactly easy, you know," he said, a hint of a laugh in his voice. Kirara smiled and nodded.

"I know…there's still a lot of healing to do, but if there's anything to be learned from Kikuchiyo and Komachi it's that time and love sometimes are entwined." Katsushiro's smile broadened, and a bit of haughtiness entered his brow.

"So it's true then," he drawled, "you do love me." Kirara leaned her head against his shoulder, and he settled his hands on her hips.

"I always have, Katsushiro," she breathed into his cloak. "I'm sorry it took me this long to realize it." Katsushiro leaned his cheek against her head, simply feeling her heartbeat against his. Her pregnancy put a little distance between them, but the warmth from the womb was comforting. He smiled when he felt the baby within her push its feet against his stomach. "Is it true you can't see very well?" Kirara asked quietly. Katsushiro stiffened a bit, but exhaled and let the tension leave his body.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," he said. "My vision started declining four years ago, but it's been getting worse in the last month. Heihachi-dono is the only one who knows about it. Not even Sensei knows."

"Do you think you'll go blind?"

"No; I'll just have a very limited range of clarity. It's difficult to be a nearsighted samurai, but I refuse to give it up." Kirara laughed softly into his shoulder.

"I guess we both have healing to do, haven't we?" Katsushiro smiled and raised his eyes to the stars. They were blurry and very dull to him, but they were still beautiful. As was the woman in his arms.

"Yes, but we shall heal together."

Kikuchiyo woke slowly the next morning, his systems taking longer than normal to boot up. He shifted a few inches on his back and felt a throb of achiness flare in his hip joints. He huffed, internally scolding himself for not being more careful; all of the activity the previous night had really taken it out of him…especially the latter half. But remembering the night before quickly brought a euphoric glow to the mech samurai's metal body and organic guts. As his systems slowly came online, he became aware of the warm body lying on top of his, her head tucked just below his neck guard; her arms sprawled over his, her legs tangled around his. Her breathing was still steady in sleep, and he could feel her pulse against his armor. Kikuchiyo sighed contentedly, and slowly brought his hands up to rest on her back. Her skin was so soft beneath his metal fingers, like silk or solid milk. She was hot to the touch, though he guessed it was because she was lying on him and they both lay beneath a blanket. He hoped she wasn't too hot. He gently stoked her back, simply losing himself in the rising and falling from her breaths. He hoped she would wake up soon, but he didn't want to rouse her if she was tired. He'd stay awake since his sleep cycle was finished, but if she was as sore as he was she probably wouldn't wake up for another hour.

"Mmm, Kiku…" Komachi sighed, her voice slightly slogged. A drip of guilt plopped into Kikuchiyo's stomach; guess she wasn't that deep a sleeper after all. Kikuchiyo raised his head and caught Komachi's already-open eyes. She was smiling gently, the relaxed kind of smile of one who bathed in absolute bliss. Kikuchiyo gave her a robot-smile and caressed her cheek with his thumb.

"Sorry if I woke you," he said quietly. "I thought you'd sleep for at least another hour. If my cycles weren't finished I'd sleep longer." Komachi laughed softly, leaning into his thumb.

"You didn't wake me. I woke on my own. I feel…so refreshed." She clung to his shoulders and pulled herself up his body until her bare chest rested against his, and her face was peeking above his neck guard. She winced a bit at the movement, but when she settled back down the pain quickly left her face. Kikuchiyo rubbed her shoulder, his visor aglow with concern.

"You okay?" he asked. "If it hurts too much, don't move." Komachi shook her head, smiling.

"It's fine. It's not a bad kind of pain; it's a great kind of pain." She leaned down and kissed the scar on his face plate. "It's the best kind of pain I've ever had; I'll be sorry to see it go." Kikuchiyo snorted, a tiny puff of steam popping from his pipe.

"I caused that pain," he said, perhaps a little more bitterly than he meant. "I'm really sorry about that. I told you we should have taken it slower." Komachi laughed again, louder this time, and raised a hand to tap him on the helm with her knuckle.

"Don't be a buzz-kill," she teased. "I'd rather be in pain from a wonderful night with my husband than wake up alone and in fine shape." A part of Kikuchiyo cringed at even the mention of her being in pain because of what the two of them had done, but another, bigger part swelled with pride at her referring to him as her husband.

"You think it was wonderful?" he asked. She laughed yet again, even heartier this time.

"Better than wonderful." She moved her hands up his arms and shoulders to either side of his face. "I don't think I've ever experienced as magical as what we did together. We…we are one now, Kiku." He inhaled, his jaws parting slightly. For a moment, she seemed to be framed by a halo of light; she was something so special…he didn't even know if she was truly human. She was something more; she was his something more. The vision faded, but she remained, beaming down at him. His wife. His love.

"Well when you put it that way." He reached up to frame her face with his wide hands, just as she was his. Her eyes grew shiny, and her lips parted slightly.

"Promise me something," Komachi whispered, rubbing her cheek against his hand. Kikuchiyo rumbled deep in his chest, the vibration sending a sonar-like imprint of her body against his to his processor.

"Anything my love, just name it." Komachi watched him for a moment, and Kikuchiyo wondered if she expected him to read her mind or something. But then, with a gentle breath, Komachi leaned down and pressed her lips to his jaws, working her mouth in a deep kiss he couldn't respond to, was powerless to resist. Kikuchiyo shuddered, a groan escaping his vocal chords. He wrapped his arms around Komachi's lower back and clung to her like a squirrel to a tree.

"Promise me I'll wake up like this every morning from now on," Komachi breathed, moving her lips from the seam in his jaws to his scar, then to his helm, his audio, and to the corner of his lower jaw. "Promise me I'll always awaken in your arms, or beside you, as long as the two of us live." Kikuchiyo rumbled again, forcing down the oily tears that started to gather in his visor. He dragged a hand up Komachi's back, making her shiver, and trailed it across her shoulder before bringing it up to his lower jaw. He flicked the switch to activate his oral-mod, and then turned his head to capture her mouth in a passionate, deep kiss. She sighed and wrapped her legs around his broad middle. When he released her mouth, Kikuchiyo gave her a wicked grin, one he could only keep in place for a few seconds.

"Nothing would make me happier," he whispered. "Consider it a deal for life." Komachi smiled at him, caressing his helm.

"I love you," she said, "forever, my samurai." Kikuchiyo nuzzled her jaw with his.

"I love you," he sighed, "forever, my flower." No truer words had he ever spoken, or would ever speak. This, Kikuchiyo thought, is where I belong. This is my place, and always will be.

Their lips met once more, and many times thereafter.