"Kurei, I have a mission for you."

"Yes Father."

Damn. I hate this life. Always at his beck and call. Like a slave dog, catering to his every whim and fancy. Raiha asks me why I don’t just blast him to the deepest Hells and go live my own life. I tell him not to ask so many questions.

"Okay Kurei, I want you to get rid of this person. Nicely, cleanly. I don’t want the Interpol after me. But if they do come, YOU are the one who gets into trouble."

"Yes Father."

Every week just passes like this. I await his orders. I carry out his orders. But I never get anything in return. Not that I really care. Not after what he did to Kurenai. For a split second, the temperature of the area around me rises a couple of hundred degrees, scorching the tips of Raiha’s hair. He blinks at me, surprised. I don’t bother to apologise. I don’t feel sorry. I don’t feel anymore.

Strains of violins and cellos fill the air as men and women dressed in colourful suits and dresses swirl around the room. Another of those damn fool charity balls which Father hosts, I mutter darkly to myself. I snort at the men dressed in tuxedos and the women in poufy dresses as they swish past my nose. Unfortunately, they cannot hear me through my mask. My eyes sweep the room. If not for Father’s direct orders, wild horses couldn’t drag me to this sort of function. And then I see her.

She is a sight for sore eyes. A beauty in red. Her wine-red dress clings in the right places, her dark brown hair cascades down her back. Her eyes flash with vivacity and life. I shrug. If I have to be here, I might as well make the most of it. I smooth down my robe, and I walk purposefully towards her.

I bow. "Good evening, miss. Would one with loveliness such as yours deign to dance with a lowly one such as I?"

A delicate blush spreads across her features and prettily, she holds out her hand. Grandly, I take it, and we join the dancers on the floor.

"May I know the name of my lady?"

"Rei. Rei Miyushi."

I am struck by her first name. So similar, as if we were made for each other. A sadistic part of me notes Kurenai’s name and hers put together make my own. I banish the thought and address her. "A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. My name is Kurei." We move past my father, and I suddenly feel a jolt of fear for my partner.

"Oh, the host’s son?"

"The same."

She blushes again, a stain of pink colouring her cheeks and nose. She doesn't know how becoming it looks. I twirl her, and gracefully, she turns. The music stops, but I am oblivious to it. I only notice some things. The closeness of her body to mine. The sweet scent of her hair. Her clear smooth skin. The closeness of her body. I stop and bend my head to her ear. "Shall we go out to the garden?"

The moon is full, casting a glow of moonshine over the garden and my lady. Underneath the moonbeams, her eyes come across as a most glorious shade of blue.

"Your eyes are like sapphires," I breathe.

She turns, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Will you remove your mask?" She asks me.

"I... you might not want..."

"I know about the scar. It’s okay. I... want to see your face."

Slowly, I take off the mask. The smile doesn’t waver. She holds my face in her hands. Gentle fingers play across my features, across the scar. "Is that why you wear it? To hide this scar?"

"No." I answer, surprising myself and Rei. I catch her hands in my own. "I wear it to hide my feelings."

She stares into my eyes, mesmerised. "And what are your feelings now?" She whispers, as if frightened by my next answer.

I gaze back, a slight smile flitting across my features. I nuzzle her hands. "What dost thou think, my lady?"

"Do... do you want to sleep with me?"

"No." I say bluntly. I am amused by the flash of hurt at rejection in her eyes. Before she can turn to go, I restrain her. "I want to stay awake with you all night." I murmur into her ear. I leave my mask on the ledge before I take a kiss.

The next morning, I awaken to see her sleeping beside me, her hair spread out across the pillow. I trail a finger across a cheek and her eyelids flutter open. "Good morning, my lady." I reach across her to take something out of the bedside drawer as she snuggles closer to my chest. My arms lie around her.

"Kurei-chan," she says sleepily. "Won’t your father mind?"

I laugh bitterly. "No."

I lower my head to kiss her, a slow deep one that leaves her starry-eyed after we stop.

I brush her hair out of her eyes; gently, tenderly, as if the slightest movement would hurt her.

She smiles, her face lighting up. "Really, Kurei-chan, who would have thought someone as rich as you would want me? I don't even have a family to call my own." Her smile changes from a sunny one to something wry, as if she has come to terms with a fact. "I doubt anyone would miss me should I die." She watches me, her eyes brighter than usual.

I brush my lips against her forehead. " Is that so? Well, do you know the best way to make money?" I ask her.

"No."

"Do evil things. Seduce, threaten, and betray people. Use everything they give, and if you cannot, just destroy them."

She stares at me with a shocked look in her eyes. And understanding flickers in them. I smile at the fear and horror that is displayed. Her eyes speak a million words.

"Good-bye, Miyushi-san," I whisper. And before she can protest, my dagger is in her. I avoid the blood by rolling out of bed, and I reach for my handphone.

"Father, the job is done."

"Good. I trust you have an alibi. And what has happened to our dear client who broke faith with Mori Kouran’s company?"

"She couldn’t take my rejection last night, Father. Seems like she has committed hara kiri beside our huge lake after I threatened to tell you. Seems possible to me that she fell into it after she slashed herself."

He laughs. An evil cackle that sends chills up my spine. "Very good. Should I send Doctor Watsuki to help you with the body?"

"That would be good, Father."

I end the call and prepare to leave the room. I turn back to face the body, sprawled on the bed, bloody froth at the mouth. The blood is flowing, showing up starkly against her fair skin, against the white sheets. An enchantress, a belle, even when dead. My beauty in red.

I don’t bother to apologise. I don’t feel sorry. I don’t feel anymore.

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