"Ah, my Genta. Forever disobedient," I say fondly. I will push against the mere notion of his death until the end of time, but I would not have him any other way. He is himself, and an example to others.

To me.

He kisses me, and I let my eyelids close. His lips are sweet, familiar, and again I wonder at myself for being able to consider, on any level, giving this up. I am necessary for the Shiba line, and for the fight, as is he. I foolishly believed myself more of a hazard than a help.

But on a personal level, I could not be without him. He balances me.

He moves up further on the bed. I wipe my eyes unselfconsciously, and join him.