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ergastulum. (1x1 w/DarkMudkip)

She turned her head away, opening the door and going into her room. She drew the curtains shut and took off her pants and coat, kicking her shoes off before crawling into bed. She was tired, and her body ached, shoulder still burning like hell. She pulled her blankets over her head, curling up in bed.
 
Kojurou had left with Motochika to receive the payment for the shipment for the weapons. Megohime was in no condition to go, so he took it upon himself to go in her stead. Motochika didn't like being gone from Nana for so long, so he didn't care how the payment was made.
 
The Guilds main building was huge, like a fortress of steel, surrounded by the Safe Zone for Tags. There were plenty of refugees, poor, young and old, and it only got worse when Kojurou actually arrived at the main building. Three large trucks were parked out front, unloading several dozen people, ranging all ages. Some were loaded out on stretchers, some on their own feet, many sick or wounded, some even had shackles still around their wrists.
 
"What...is this...?"
"This is what happens when close minded people get their way. These are the Twilights that lost everything thanks to stupid, petty, hateful humans." Motochika said before nudging his head, "C'mon, this way.."
 
Some were wounded grievously, some on the stretchers looking dead, one woman had bandages around her head and chest, blood soaking through the bandages.
 
As he passed the woman, he saw her unfocused copper eyes, almost lifeless, blood covering her face and staining her long blonde hair.
 
He frowned heavily and followed Motochika to his office to get the payment for the shipment.
"Megohime-dono expresses her sincerest gratitude." Kojurou said, bowing. Motochika nodded slightly.
"Course she does.." He said, "Wish her well for me."
"Of course." Kojurou bowed again and moved to leave.
 
There was low chatter throughout the building, a few Tags nodding to him as he left, some even bowing their head in respect. As he was going down a long corridor, he felt something fall into him, knocking him back out of surprise. He had barely seen what had knocked him over, only a blur from one of the doorways. He felt something on top of him, heard the soft shifting of cloth, then felt something warm press to his lips. Good hair curtained around his head, and he felt the person straddle him, then hands at his belt.
“Gastou..”
It was the woman he had seen when he had come in minutes before, on top of him, looking down with tears, unfocused eyes. “I can still fight, I can still be useful to you... so please, please don’t leave me behind again..” She begged in a weak voice. She was so injured, her head was wrapped heavily in bandages, and it seemed like all of her limbs too were wrapped heavily in blood-stained bandages. She fumbled with his belt, even trying to work on his zipper, not seeming to notice the man she was on top of wasn’t Gastou.
 
His eyes widened in alarm and his face lit up a dark red.
"M-Madam, my name is not Gastou...! P-Please do not undress me..!" He panicked, grabbing her hands gently and pulling them away.
 
She looked confused and saddened, trying to reach for his belt again. “I promise I can still fight...!”
“Ah! There she is..!”
Two of Motochika’s men came rushing over, two medics.
“Forgive us Katakura-dono..! She’s really ill..!” They moved over, helping to pull her off of Kojurou, careful of her wounds. “She hasn’t had celebrer for a long time, and she’s suffered a terrible head injury, we assure you it won’t happen again!” They bowed to him again and again.
 
Kojurou pushed himself up and dusted himself off, fixing his pants and making sure there wasn't a malfunction.
"No, it's quite alright. Will she be alright? Does she need more medical aid?"
 
One man helped Jin down the hall as one stayed behind to speak with Kojurou. “We’ve done all we can for the moment, she just needs time to heal. It’s up to her now.” He said with a soft frown.
 
He made a noise, "Allow me to send one of our medical professionals over. I do not doubt the quality in which Motochika employs, but I wish to help in any way possible."
 
“We’d be most grateful for the extra help, we’re short staffed as it is for the medic bay, and anyone who can help is welcomed.” He said with a bow.

Grimy hands grabbed at Megohime, unseen figures hidden in shadows holding her down, keeping her from escaping as she struggled and fought, all in vain. Sharp knives sliced her skin, sunk into her stomach and tore her shirt as it split open her belly. She couldn’t scream, mouth gagged, they were going to defile her as she was butchered- she couldn’t breathe -it was so hot, thoughts clouded.
Megohime laid in bed, sweating heavily and grimacing in her sleep, soft whimpers escaping her as her nightmare continued.
 
Kojurou bowed his head, "I'll send him over as soon as possible."

With Kojurou gone, Masamune couldn't really send him in to check on Megohime. So he went in to check on her himself. He peeked into her room and saw her in distress and scowled faintly, moving into the room.
"I told her not to go to sleep."
 
Megohime was laying in bed, tangled in her blankets, and sweating heavily. Her face was flushed, twisted in a grimace, muttering softly under her breath. He could hear what she was saying, muttering no over and over. She actually looked scared, he had never seen that expression on her face. She gripped the sheet tightly, brow furrowing. “Stop..!” Her anguish came out in her words, breathing becoming more ragged.
 
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As if Megohime felt his presence, she woke with a start, sitting bolt upright with a gasp, her hand gripped tightly around the pistol under her pillow.
 
It took Megohime a moment to recognize who it was standing in her room, but when she saw it was Masamune, she let go of her gun. “What are you doing in here..?” She asked, rubbing the sweat from her forehead, feeling woozy.
 
"I told you I would have you checked on. The old man ain't back yet, so I had to do it." He told her, "I warned you, ya know...ya didn't listen."
 
Megohime let out a scoff, resting her hands in her head. “Didn’t do it on purpose..” She muttered, sounding a bit out of sorts, had she been drinking? It didn’t smell like liquor, and neither did she.
 
She picked her head up to look at him. “I’m fine... it’s just hot as hell in here,” She pulled the blankets off herself. “And stuffy, in opening the window...” She stood, moving to the window, only to stumble and fall to her knees. The room was spinning, and it felt like she was wearing snow clothes in the summer.
 
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