Work Text:
Masamune ran through the corridors of a deserted, covered in crimson castle. His every step painted a wooden floor with his retainer's blood, he didn't even know which one, probably mixed with someone else's, since there was too much of it for one person.
A mix of fear and shock coated his features. He would never have guessed this would happen during his absence. So sudden and unforeseen. But he knew that she was okay. She wouldn't let them hurt her, right? Of course, it was obvious. She was strong, his lovely Lady Date. His legs didn't think the same thing, though—with every second they moved even quicker.
He entered their chambers, breathing heavily from exhaustion, greeted by a talented painting, so skilled that it seemed real.
A painting of his wife hanged on a wall, just a few inches above the ground. Her straightened arms were nailed down on both of her sides at the right angle, small knives pegged at the beginning of her wrists. Another blade in her throat went through the flesh, her stomach cut open, her entrails hanging. His unborn child at her feet, crumpled, ripped from its primal shelter. All of it decorated with a pool of scarlet liquid.
He was standing on the doorstep, quietly watching the masterpiece, frozen, not believing how distinguished the painting was.
Kojuro burst into the room a few seconds after Masamune, worried about his stop.
Kojuro's horrified gasp.
"Oh no... No, no, no, no, no...!"
At this point, Masamune realised.
Kojuro ran to her, not minding the blood. He pulled out all of the blades and grabbed her limp, dead body, which slid off the wall when nothing held it in the previous position anymore.
It wasn't drawn.
Masamune's frightened scream.
His eyes suddenly opened. He gasped for air, drenched in his sweat, barely stopping himself from screaming. He immediately turned his head to his left, desperately looking for a certain figure.
There she was, sleeping peacefully, safely, breathing regularly with her lips slightly parted. Her left hand was resting on her already visible bump, the right one directed towards him, probably holding his before she fell asleep.
He felt the enormous wave of relief wash over him. Masamune sat up, burying his face in his palms, letting tears flow down his cheeks. He sobbed as quietly as he could, trying not to wake her up, crying out all of the fear.
He gently grabbed her empty hand to kiss it tenderly and moved it to his cheek, the warmth of her touch calming him down.
The sudden movement woke her up, and she opened her sleepy eyes to see her loving husband in the dark. She immediately opened them wider when she felt his wet cheek.
"Are you crying, love?" she asked with a hoarse voice, worried. He nuzzled into her palm, already forgetting about her question.
She stroked his cheek, then his hair. When she kissed his forehead, blind eye, nose, and finally the mouth, she pressed him to her heart, still caressing his hair. He hugged her tightly, listening to her calm heartbeat. Right now, it was the most beautiful music that existed.
The last thing he heard before falling asleep was: "I love you so much, Masamune, I can't even tell how much I adore you", said with a soothing voice he would recognise everywhere. It belonged to the light of his life, after all.