You looked like an angel, come down from Heaven or from some painting by one of the West's great masters. For a little while, I let myself believe that you were as beautiful inside as out. I wanted so badly to believe in you, to believe that there was true beauty in this world and not just painted whores and false smiles.

By the time I accepted the truth, it was too late -- you had your claws in me too deep and I couldn't break free. I didn't really want to.

Even now, lying in a pool of blood, my kimono torn open, expensive silk shredded so fine in places that it's indistinguishable from my hair, I don't really want to escape. My body aches, I'm so cold. But I'll live, I know that. You always leave me alive, so that I'll be here again next time, waiting for you with open arms.