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This is my big end of year creative writing major piece.... so any help and critiquing would be GREAT! I'll be your slave forever great lol.
It's not yaoi or anything.... but I rather like the story but it's long, 5000 words pressently and needs to be 6000 words. So here it is PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know what you think.

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In Search of a Smile

Sitting on the roof of one of the Resistance’s many safe houses, dressed in a woman’s kimono for the first time in almost a year, Kirrari stared up at the stars, a small golden dragon, her eternal companion, wound around her hand, playing with her fingers. The golden sparks that made up the ethereal being cast a soft glow on her sharp features. Kirrari was Eilith, though she refused to fight for them. Instead she fights for their enemy, the secretive and elusive group known only as the Resistance. She smiled fondly on her memory of how she came to belong to such a mysterious group but didn’t get a chance to reminisce as a sharp whistle drew her attention to the street below.

Jisu, dressed entirely in black and blending so well into the shadows that it was hard for Kirrari to see him, waited for her. Jisu, the leader and founder of the Resistance, was a recognisable and wanted man and once Kirrari’s secret lover. She knew now that it was as much the man’s notorious reputation that drew her as his rather stunning good looks. She has moved past this now, however, her girlish fascination turned to a woman’s respect for a teacher and leader.

Banishing the dragon beside her, Kirrari stood and carefully made her way to the roof’s edge mostly unaware of the practiced grace with which she moved. Climbing nimbly down, Kirrari dropped the last meter or so to the ground, landing mere inches from a muddy puddle. They were to meet up with another young member of the Resistance: Kiyotaka, nicknamed Ki for his endless energy.

“Ki’s over there,” Kirrari said, pointing down the dark narrow streets. She kept her voice down, knowing that if anyone, especially someone from the night watch were to see them, let alone know about the heist they had planned for the night all three of them would be captured, tortured and only killed once they had told everything about each other and the Resistance. It was a life of constant caution and fear but was a live Kirrari flourished in. She had chosen this life after her somewhat privileged life as a geisha had not turned out as well as she had liked, her hatred of all Eilith coming in the way of entertaining those who flaunted such a status. This life suited her much better, where she could act upon her hatred instead of hiding any emotions behind a mask as geisha were trained to do.

“Ki,” Jisu called out softly and a young boy stepped out of the shadows, a small smile on his face. It still unnerved Kirrari how young he was; he said he was fourteen but he was small and lithe, his hair cropped to his ears in a way that made him look no older than twelve. At first Kirrari had doubted Jisu’s decision to allow someone so young into their ranks. Smiling he had allowed the two of them to spar. Kirrari was good but it was clear she was out-matched by this child even though Ki was going easy on her. Tonight would be the first time Kirrari was to see him in the field, however.

“It’s a sharp-shooter tonight,” Jisu told them as they jogged along the dark and deserted streets. Kirrari always found it curious how whenever something was about to happen the locals all closed themselves in their houses and dowsed the lamps, pretending they weren’t there, trying to be inconspicuous.

“He’s Japanese but uses western weapons and has been to America,” Jisu continued. That fact alone gave Kirrari reason to be a part of tonight’s job; she blamed the Westerners for Japan’s bloody state.

“Because of this mix he has mastered both gun and sword so we need to get in close to him before he gets a chance to shoot. He’s still good with a blade though better with the gun, so ideally we get in, kill him while he’s asleep and get out before we’re detected. Understand?” Jisu finished.

It made sense to Kirrari and, even though she was no coward and had proved it many times over, less could go wrong if they attacked while he slept. When she first joined she would be questioning the honour in such a plan and sometimes it still played on her mind but whenever it did she reminded herself of the slaughter of her family when she was a child and her conviction that the Eilith were the ones behind it. “What’s he done to draw our attention?” she asked, curious.

Jisu, instead of answering, glanced to Ki inviting him to answer instead.

“I found him poking around one of our warehouses,” Ki said, then seeing Kirrari’s alarmed look his smile widened to a grin and he hurried to add, “Don’t worry he didn’t find anything. Even I know how to snoop without being so obvious.”

Kirrari laughed at that and ruffled his hair. “Yes but no one would suspect a kid like you.”

“That’s why he’s so useful. We’re nearly there,” Jisu said, slowing.

Kirrari, distracted, looked with wide eyes to Ki, surprised at this new piece of news. Ki merely grinned at her and winked, confirming what Jisu had said, before turning his attention on the building in front of him. It was ordinary as far as inns go, lanterns with the name of the building on them hanging out the front, a bar with wooden stools, the interior filled with low tables, smoke, and women moving among the noisy and boisterous patrons. Kirrari’s attention wasn’t on the inn, however, but on Ki’s face and the small smile he wore. She couldn’t help but wonder what was gong through his head to bring a smile to his face at a time like this.

“If I go in the front I’ll be recognised. I’ll go around the back and enter through a second story window; the two of you go through the front. Kirrari, hide your wakisashi and bring a fan out or something instead,” he said, his face carefully blank, now a familiar sight to Kirrari.

Kirrari smirked as she slid the short-sword into her obi and instead withdrew the fan that went with the outfit. A fan, especially one as perfectly weighted and made as hers was, could be a weapon in itself, she knew. It was just a pity she had never really been taught fan fighting; she only knew the basics but at least no one would suspect a woman in a kimono fiddling with a fan.

Entering the inn the two sat down and ordered a minor meal, just something to make them blend in and pick at. Kirrari was willing to let Ki lead the way; despite his being ten years her junior he had more experience at this kind of thing than she did, and he was also the only one who knew what this man looked like.

Leaning in close, she whispered, "Is he in there?” her voice carrying only to Ki in the noise the other patrons made.

Ki cast his gaze around and nodded slightly, saying, “Don’t look though, it will attract attention.” Ki kept his voice as low as hers had been, so that she had to strain to hear. “Two tables behind us and one to your right. Look once our food has come.” Ki chuckled a little then, an amused gleam in his eyes. “He’ll be here a while the way he’s acting.”

“Hop Jisu can be patient enough then,” Kirrari said with a smirk.

Ki’s own smile widened to a smirk of his own at that. “Oh he can wait forever if he had to.”

Kirrari nodded her thanks to the woman who brought their food, sending a silent thanks that she had gotten herself out of the entertainment industry. “Aren’t you nervous?” she asked Ki after the woman had left. It took all of her geisha training for her to merely keep still; her stomach was tied in knots, doing back flips, front flips, and side flips all at once and the last thing she was interested in was the food before her.

A grin this time. “Nope, not really. It’s just the one guy after all. And there are three of us. Jisu is one of the best and knows what he’s doing. He’s former Eilith after all. What could go wrong?”

“But…” Kirrari trailed off, merely shaking her head at Ki’s raised eyebrow. She simply didn’t understand Kiyotaka, couldn’t understand him. He was an expert swordsman at fourteen and had killed a number of people already. And that small smile he always wore even when talking seriously. It made her wonder what kind of life he had. She couldn’t ask though, despite her curiosity; it wasn’t any of her business and if he wanted to talk about it he would have already instead of talking idly about some new artist or how lovely the cherry blossoms had bloomed that year. If Kirrari knew nothing else about him, she knew he loved cherry blossoms, even had a bonsai in the shape of one. It seemed so out of place with the smiling killer but Kirrari guessed that, despite his age, even Kiyotaka had to follow the rules of bushido.

Eating their meal, Kirrari turned her gaze to the table Ki had pointed out. The man there, the only one among three stupid giggling common prostitutes was a weedy, greasy man, small and bald, or near enough to it. There was a gun sitting on the table and one shoved through his obi. This surprised Kirrari; she would have thought a man knowledgeable in western ways who had been to America would have the same kind of holster foreigners wore.

“He doesn’t look all that strong, or even talented,” Kirrari said softly. She knew looks meant nothing, both her and Ki were proof of that, but she knew it was more to reassure herself and to calm her nerves.

“Well if he fights as well as he spies we should have no problem, but Jisu said that wasn’t so. He did a bit of his own information seeking and found out while he’s a terrible spy he’s deadly with those guns. We still need to be careful. This should be fun.”

Kirrari raised an eyebrow at that – this boy was definitely strange! – but when their target stood and made his unsteady way up the rickety wooden stairs, two of the three girls hanging off him, Kirrari went to follow, but paused when Ki muttered, “Wait.” She sank down once more, her eyes following the man and staring at the hallway he disappeared through as Ki continued. “Finish your meal and go up first. I’ll follow after a minute or two so it doesn’t look like we’re following.”

Kirrari nodded and forced herself to hastily finish her meal; now that the time for action had come she found her nerves being replaced with the excitement and heightened senses that always washed over her before a fight. Finishing she stood leaving some money on the table for her meal. She stretched, trying to appear weary and fiddled with her fan as she ascended the stairs. It was easy to tell which room their target was in, the girl’s giggles and the man’s sleazy voice gave that away. Kirrari scowled; that was another reason she had left the geisha: she couldn’t stand sleazy men. True, a geisha was not a prostitute; she did not sell her body, but rather her mind, entertaining skills and artful conversation. That didn’t stop men from trying though and then there was the custom of selling one’s virginity, something Kirrari was glad she avoided.

Standing in the hallway, Kirrari was somewhat at a loss as to what to do now. She knew they had to kill this guy but Jisu had wanted to get in and out before anyone knew what had happened and that would be impossible with the prostitutes in the room.

“You’re looking very conspicuous there.”

Kirrari spun around, a hand going to the small of her back where her blade was concealed, worried that it was someone from the inn or worse, an Eilith. It was only Ki, who was grinning widely at the fright he had given Kirrari, and she forced herself to relax, for her heart to stop beating so fast.

“Relax,” he said leaning against a doorframe. “They’ll leave eventually. It’s just a waiting game.”

“What about Jisu?”

“You worry about him a lot, huh. He’ll be fine, he can look after himself. Come on. Let’s have some fun,” he said, grinning widely as he held a door open for her.

Blushing, Kirrari stormed angrily into the room, muttering, “Aren’t you a little young for jokes like that?”

That made Ki laugh aloud as he closed the door behind her. “Hardly. I may be young but I’m not blind, deaf and dumb. I know how babies are made.”

Kirrari had nothing to say to that so she merely sat on the window sill, looking out over the dark city. The two of them waited there, talking idly to pass the time until it turned from late to early and the entire city started to go quiet. As with all cities with thousands of people living in one area it was never completely quiet but to Kirrari, who had grown up in cities, it was near silent to her ears. Kirrari found she liked talking to Ki; he was friendly and easy to get along with and be around and he didn’t ask any probing questions. He was unique in his age and ability and seemed to have an uncanny knack for knowing what was alright to ask and if he started to tread into the uncomfortable sphere he seemed to instinctively know and back out of it without making it seem obvious.

Finally, as though there were some kind of unspoken sign, the two of them stood and left the room together, knowing it was time to get down to business without having to be told. Kirrari glanced to Ki beside her and couldn’t help but feel glad he was on her side; the small smile was in place but it didn’t meet his eyes and was completely cold. It hadn’t reached his eyes when the two of them had spared but he hadn’t looked so cold then; she had known he was in complete control of himself then and wouldn’t hurt her. This time was completely different; Kirrari knew he was very good at killing, that he might even enjoy it.

Taking a deep breath, she swapped her fan for her sword, uttering a curse of annoyance under her breath about Jisu’s insistence that she remain as inconspicuous as possible by wearing women’s clothing despite her preference for men’s when using her sword.

Opening the door quietly, she and Ki slipped inside and into the shadow. Jisu was there too, blocking out the moonlight from the window. He looked truly menacing, dressed as he was, rather like the dreaded Shinobi assassins. It caused Kirrari to shiver.

The room had only one occupant and Kirrari mentally kicked herself, realizing that meant the prostitutes had left while she was talking with Ki and she hadn’t heard them. If the two girls had been someone after their life she wouldn’t have been ready for them.

Forcing herself to put that out of her mind for now, she moved quietly to the side as Ki moved away from her and Jisu stepped silently down from the window sill. The fact that he made absolutely no sound at all made Kirrari curious, not for the first time, about the Eilith and exactly what it was they taught. And how they taught it, she added savagely, letting her own hatred take a hold of her once more. After all, if she nurtured that hatred it made it that much easier to kill someone who supported the Eilith in this rather dishonourable way. She knew that what they were doing was the surest way of getting the job done and for that she had to put notions of honour aside for now. The easiest way to kill him would be to get to him without waking him. She could see the glint of moonlight on a gun that rested near his shoulder, within easy reach and, most likely, loaded.

The three of them moved slowly in, drawing their blades with a soft hissing noise as they did so.

The floorboard creaked loudly under Kirrari’s foot.

Instantly she froze as their target’s eyes flicked open, locking on Ki who was the closest to his face. She had time to swear at her own clumsiness before an ear-splitting crack sounded and Ki fell to the floor. She rushed in to kill the man before he had another chance to shoot but Jisu beat her to it. He came in from beyond the gun-man’s sight, his katana rising and falling, glinting beautifully in the moonlight as it descended on the man’s neck, severing the man’s head from his shoulders in one clean blow, the blood staining the blade, staining the white mattress in an ever spreading circle. So much blood. So much blood.

“Out the window. Now,” Jisu ordered, his voice as expressionless as the rest of him as he scooped Ki up and slung him over his shoulder so he could hold him and still get out the window.

What was it about this man and the blood that seemed to follow him where he went? It was the same when Kirrari had first met him; not only had he invoked long buried memories of her own family’s slaughter but then killed three foreigners who had thought she would be easy fun.

“Kirrari!”

Kirrari tore her gaze from the body and followed Jisu out the window. Reaching the ground, Kirrari waited till Jisu had transferred Ki to be held in front of him rather than over his shoulder before the two of them set off at a run back towards their current base. Confused shouts and questions rang through the air as well as the sound of running footsteps, mostly on wide roads so they stayed to the dark claustrophobic back streets, cold mud being flicked up the back of their legs from their shoes. Kirrari ignored all this as she tried to see Ki. It looked like he was alive for now but there was so much blood she couldn’t tell where the bullet had hit him so didn’t know whether it was a fatal wound or not. It was dangerous, the sheer amount of blood that soaked both Ki’s and Jisu’s clothes, so he would be unwell for a time from blood loss alone and it was all her fault.

They didn’t stop running until the reached the harbour warehouse that was their home for now. There were only two others living with them currently, other members of the Resistance were based elsewhere, scattered throughout the city, increasing the Resistance’s sight and hearing. Also, if the Eilith were to find and destroy one of their bases they could never entirely wipe them out. The other two with them, a young man and a middle-aged woman, were both away with their own assignments and Jisu hurriedly carried Ki to his bed and laid him down on it. Kirrari knelt down next to him and wordlessly, her lip[s pressed in a tight line, used her thus-far unsoiled blade to cut away Ki’s clothing while Jisu gathered bandages, clean water and anything else they would need for healing. There was so much blood, blood on all their clothing, pooling on the floor, even staining Ki’s lips bright red. Once more she had to force her own memories of similarly bloody nights out of her mind, instead she grimly set to work cleaning the blood and clothing away to find the bullet wound. Ki’s breath was coming in short shallow gasps and there was a strange whistling sound coming from his chest.

Hearing that noise, tears sprang to Kirrari’s eyes and she irritably pushed them away; this was no time to let her girly feelings get in the way of things. Her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t even hold the cloth she was using still. Jisu, coming up behind her and seeing this, said, “Leave. Go wait outside for me. You are of no help like that. I’ll fetch you when I’ve finished.”

That was all. Not a word or accusation or anything of the like to show he blamed her for Ki’s condition and somehow that just made it hurt all the more. She stood silently and left, climbing up onto the roof, her safe haven. Laying down on it she gazed up at the blurred stars, little pin-pricks of light in the inky sky that seemed to winkle on merrily regardless of what was happening down on the mortal realm of Japan. Normally they uplifted her, made her feel like there was at least somewhere that things went on as they always did. Tonight they seemed to mock her. She rolled onto her side and curled around the hurt in her stomach. It was her fault. If she hadn’t stepped so heavily without testing where she put her foot first, if she hadn’t stepped in that place then Ki would never have been shot, the gun-man would never have woken up, the killing would have been carried out without any problems and all three of them would be back here, drinking sake and winding down after a successful mission. That was the way it should have been.

“Kirrari.”

Kirrari sat up and looked down to see Jisu’s face looking up at her. She climbed down with a lot less grace than she had earlier in the night, a time that felt a life time ago rather than a few hours. She avoided looking at him, instead going straight to Ki’s side. His narrow chest was bare and a blanket covered his legs, drawn only to his hips, bandages around his chest and the rest of him clean. He was still unconscious.

Kirrari knelt down beside him once more and gently, affectionately, brushed some hair away from his face. He was so pale. His eyes opened slowly and locked on her and his mouth, slack in unconsciousness, broadened into his familiar smile, reaching his eyes this time.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Kirrari whispered as tears welled again. He looked so young and helpless, lying there, pale as the sheet he was on and just smiling up at her.

Ki opened his mouth to speak and Kirrari had to lean in close to hear the words. “Not your fault. I don’t blame you. Not your fault…”

It was at that moment the other two members of the Resistance who were staying with them entered and Kirrari looked up at them with her red, swollen eyes before returning them to Ki’s still form.

A sob caught and choked her.

Kiyotaka was dead.

*

Kirrari was lying on the roof again where she had spent most of her time since Ki’s death. Her eyes, head and even her whole body ached. She couldn’t get the image of Ki’s dead face out of her head. He had been smiling. He always smiled but this time it was different. His eyes were closed but it looked as though he were truly happy. She never realised it before that moment but all the other smiles, it was as though they were just façades of the real Kiyotaka and that that last smile he had been truly happy.

It had been a week since that night and the uproar over the killing had died down. There had been no uproar for Kiyotaka’s passing though. It was as if no one cared apart from those who knew him in the Resistance and even then most people took his death with a grain of salt; after all Resistance members died all the time on the job, what was so special about this boy?

The more Kirrari thought about it the more she realised that she knew practically nothing about him. They had talked a fair bit, even before that night, but she felt as though she had never got to know him properly and now it was too late. He was only fourteen, only a boy and had likely never even known a woman’s touch despite his claims of knowing such things. It should have been her who had been shot, not him, she was the one who had made the noise and gave them all away, he was as silent and perfect as it was possible to be.

“It’s not your fault.”

Kirrari turned her dry, sore eyes to Jisu as he climbed up and sat beside her, then closed them. Seeing the image of Ki’s smiling death face she opened them again and instead turned her face away so she didn’t have to look at Jisu’s own blank face.

“He died for our cause. It was a good death, an honourable one,” he said.

“How can you say that?” Kirrari asked, her voice torn. “He was only fourteen. He was far too young to die for such a stupid mistake on my part.”

“He is at peace now.”

Kirrari didn’t say anything to that. She believed it. She didn’t want to but she did. That wasn’t to say she wanted him to be suffering now, but rather she wanted to believe what she knew to be false, that the always smiling boy was such because he was genuinely happy with his life and who he was. She knew this wasn’t the case, that the smile was his way of hiding, but she didn’t want to believe that.

“Did… did he seek death?” Kirrari asked eventually.

“Never. When I formed the Resistance after rebelling against the Eilith, Kiyotaka was one of the first to join my cause. He was eleven then and already an accomplished swordsman. He never said much but he always smiled, even as he killed. I knew it was covering something more but I turned him away at first, thinking like you, that he was too young to be involved in such a thing. That was before I saw him fight,” Jisu said, his voice heavy with emotion.

Kirrari looked at Jisu once more. His face was as blank as always but somehow she knew at that moment he was grieving just as much as she was. Perhaps it was in the way his body slumped and all his movements seemed so much more lethargic when compared to his normally sharp brisk way of going about things, or perhaps it was just in his tone of voice. She didn’t know how she knew it but somehow it was obvious to her now.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“He was working at a sake house, earning what minimal money he could to survive I suppose, maybe earning nothing more than his keep. He was always a skinny kid. One of the patrons was too drunk and got a hold of him, forced him against the wall and tried to have his way with him.” Jisu spat to the side with disgust at this. “He wasn’t wearing his sword but he had a knife and he wielded it like someone much older who had trained all his life with a blade. He killed him. Smiling.”

Jisu paused there and took a pipe from his pocket, filling it and lighting it. Personally she found the habit quiet disgusting but he seemed to enjoy it so she didn’t say anything about the matter; they each had their own way of dealing with the cards life threw at them and this was his. Besides which, most of the time her mind was occupied with other things she deemed more important than a man’s smoking habits.

“When I left that night, I found him outside sitting against the wall, knees upraised, his sword across h is lap and a small bag beside him. There was a bruise spreading across his cheek that the man he killed hadn’t given him. He looked up at me and smiled that peculiar smile of his, told me he had been kicked out. What else could I do? I took him in and he more than earned his keep with the Resistance.” Jisu finally fell silent once more.

Kirrari stayed up there all night and well into the morning. She wasn’t hungry and took no food or drink. She found she wasn’t really content knowing this snippet of Ki’s life, found she wanted to know more about the boy and what had happened before he joined the Resistance and what had led him to work at a sake house when he was obviously not related to the family who ran it. What had happened to force him to work there? How did he learn swordsmanship and master it at such a young age? He was a natural, sure, but it took more than natural ability to not only learn the art of the sword but also to own such a well made katana. How did he get one and who gave it to him? Who taught him? What about any family and where did he come from? There was so much she didn’t know about him and somehow that seemed like an injustice to him. He may have only been fourteen but a lot had obviously happened to get him where he was. It had never seemed important to find such things out but now that he was gone, never to grace the earth with his presence once more it seemed terribly important. She had to find out, had to learn what she could. Only then would she feel that his memory could be respected.