Disclaimer: I do not own VK. If I do, however, there would be about 60% less angst and 70% more plot.

Warning: There will be disturbing themes, especially incest, in the way that you probably don't expect, and I want to say that there is a HEAVY RAPE in the chapter. If this disturbs you, don't read this.

A Rose in Every Other Sense

"Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall."

- William Shakespeare

The way nana looked at her changed when she caught Rose leaving her father's room before dawn. It was filled with pity, disgust, and abhorrence.

There was a fight. Nana screamed and cried and begged Rose to leave her father. She said she should have taken Rose and left the manor, and it was all her fault.

Nana stopped speaking to her.

Then, one day, nana left the manor in revulsion and never came back. Rose was even more alone than before. She could hear a dust drifting in the air and the creaks in the wood across the manor. The servants slipped in and out quietly and gossiped amongst themselves. She didn't care. They were paid to serve and not to think.

She went out by herself at night and laid in the cool grasses, looking at the stars. The dews caught in her sleeves and hairs. She smelled the moist earth and the quiet night. The nightingale sang in the distance, and she could hear herself think. She wondered if she will outlive the stars, because the road of immortality was so dark and lonely. The lights of moon touched her limbs coldly, and she closed her eyes, imagining death.

She went living her life as she did before.

Rose wore her hair up and went to parties. She studied her texts and drank tea with Aidoh's wife, an ordinary lonely woman. She wondered how this timid woman had the courage to have an affair with that blond man. They talked about her daughter, a princess of seven years of age. Rose played with the little girl who grew fond of her. She pondered whether she will ever have a daughter.

She went home and ate dinner by herself in a large dining room. She thought briefly about her brother, whom she missed dearly. The only the clatter of knife and fork echoed in the chamber. She sighed and missed her brother some more.

Then her father came home, drunk, and waited for her in his bedroom. She looked into his eyes and saw another girl in the reflection.

She took off her clothes and climbed into his bed.

And his queen walked once more on earth every night she was with him.

Finally it was summer again and the car glided to a stop before the locked gates of Kuran manor. Her brother stepped out of the car and the gates parted. The servant rushed out to help him, but his attention snatched away by the girl that fell into his arms.

She said his name and whispered how she missed him. He was enthralled. She was different from his memories of her, a stubborn little girl. A sensuality clung to her limps. She smelled odd like the musky sea, as if her scent had been mixed up with something else, but he dismissed it.

The air was sweet with blossoms and they spend the whole day in the surrounding woods together, playing like little children. Her hands and feet were caked with mud and her dress was ruined. But she didn't care.

He pushed her down a flowery field and she slipped into the ground's embrace, laughing. He landed beside her and tickled her breathless.

Then he stopped and looked into her eyes, as if trying to confess something weighing on his heart.

She caught her breath and stared back.

Rose pulled away suddenly and smiled. "It is time for dinner."

They ate quietly, but as the servants cleared the table, her brother reached over and clasped his hand over hers, gazing at her carefully. His thumb caressed the back of her hand.

Rose looked at him and didn't pull her hand away.

Later, they went out into the night and laid in the fields, watching the stars. He still held her hand.

She wanted to cry because she knew this wasn't forever, and forever was too long. The uncertainties of their young age and distance doomed their romance.

Nana once told her that if a story went on long enough, it will become a tragedy. She suspected the truth in nana's words.

She sensed him before her brother did and she withdrew her hand.

He let go easily.

She was almost disappointed.

Then she was gone, meeting her father's dark unreadable eyes in the shadows.

She whimpered his name and he devoured the sound with lust. She didn't get the chance of slipping out of her dew-clad clothes before her father took her roughly against the door of his chamber, mumbling name of her mother.

She was once again loved, twice-loved by her father, once as mother, twice as daughter.

Rose loved him best when he was drunk, for that was when he was the gentlest.

His whispers of her mother's name echoed in her ears and she wondered what kind of love did they have that, after its demise, crippled her father so? It must have been a very cruel and selfish love to have eaten away his soul and left only an empty shell of a once powerful vampire.

She snuck back into her bedroom in the middle of the night to find her brother sleeping in an armchair near her door.

She was reminded of that love she was so foreign to, but so destructive in its path.

Rose wanted to touch him, but she held her hand, and went into her bedroom. She cleaned herself and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

She was never woken up with kisses before. Father never cared for such frivolous acts, nor were they lovers. But the first time she was woken up with kisses from her brother, she felt her heart shook.

Rose knew what he was doing and what he was trying to do. He was courting her, soften her with girlish fairy tales and worldly romances. She guessed it was only fair, after all Kuran have a long standing tradition of marrying their relatives. At least her brother was making an effort to make her love him, instead of the forced marriage.

Her body still ached from the roughness her father held her with last night, but she recovered fairly well.

Her brother exchanged chaste kisses with her, but he wanted more. She recognized the same look in her father's eyes. They held hands often, but she didn't allow his fingers to wonder any further.

Once, he pushed those boundaries and she accidently uttered a guttural, "…Kaname…" before swallowing the word back into her throat. Rose wasn't sure if he had heard her or not, but her brother did eyed her with suspicion afterward.

They did look very alike. She could see shadows of her father clearly echoing in her brother, down to the very fabric of their souls. Sometimes the way Rose caught her brother staring at her with Father's hungry eyes and it frightened and excited her at the same time. Sometimes when he kissed her with gentleness, she confused it with Father's drunken kisses.

Father did know of the flirtatious nature their relationship had taken and seemed none too pleased. He was rougher with her, less patient, and on some days, Rose discovered that it was difficult to walk normally. Rose protested, but he didn't listen to her.

After a few weeks, they became less careful. In retrospect, Rose should have guessed that her brother would find out.

Her father had been too careless. Or maybe he wanted her brother to discover her, loose and used, panting with parted legs.

Her father had barely left the bedroom and Rose, exhausted and bruised, passed out momentarily. Only to wake up to her brother's disbelief, she sighed and tried to preserve some modesty by pulling down her nightgown, not that she had much left.

It took some courage, but she finally met his wide and angry eyes.

He opened his mouth and struggled to speak. His shouldered were trembling. He managed on the third try.

"How… long?" he hissed brokenly, but attempted again, more coherently, summoning more pressing rage, "How long have this been going on?"

She wanted to get on her bare feet, sprawling weakly on the bed was no position of power that she wished to be in currently.

But her brother pressed her down with iron hands when she tried. She winced at the wrath of pain around her poor wrists.

"Answer me," he commanded. Flame licked his eyes and they seemed to spark in the darkness.

She gazed back carelessly as if the situation didn't concern her at all and shrugged.

"A couple of months?" she offered.

How fascinating the beautiful man child before her looked? The bright red irises burned into her and the thinly pressed mouth stifling his anger, he did inherit their father's famed beauty. Funny, how her mind concentrated on the most frivolous things. Laughs bubbled up the pit of her stomach, but she suppressed it. It probably won't help the situation if she allowed smile to crawl up her lips.

He freed her again, mumbling furiously under his breathes, "I am going to kill that bastard. He must have forced you into this… this… disgusting grotesque… it makes me sick. I should have protected you…"

"Protected me?" Rose repeated blankly, and then she couldn't help the smirk that appeared on her lips.

Her words diverted his attention back to her in confusion.

She sat up on the bed, smoothing the wrinkles on her white gown, smiling widely, like a siren or Venus. "You think he was the one who initiated this?"

He stared at her, now more calm and serious. His dark eyes flashed dangerously. "What do you mean, sister?"

She laughed, clear as bells. He loved that laughter, because it meant something truly pleased her. "You think that father came to my bed and raped me? That man? Darling, he would not. No, it is I who came to him. It is I walked willingly into his bedroom, numerous of times. I tempted him with my unclothed body and lead him astray."

"Why?" his voice was quiet, but rumbling.

"Have you not seen my face? Do you know with whom do I closely resemble to? Every night our father is with me, he holds his dear queen in his arms again. He loved her and he will continue to love her. And I?" her voice turned wistful, "I get his love. He will love me and he will acknowledge me as he had not done so since my birth. He will finally see me, not as only the murderer of his wife, but something more precious and valuable than that. I am finally loved by him."

He backhanded her furiously across her face. She was flung on her back against the bed with a poof. She looked up at the dark ceiling with its fancy wood carving emptily. She could see every brush of details in the elegant panels, to the curl of leaves and down to the fiber of the material.

Her brother pounced on her. The bed shook lightly.

The weight on her wrists came back.

She felt her night gown pushed up and felt no reason to stop it. She could not stop him.

His nails pierced into her skin and drew blood.

She stared at the ceiling as if it held her in some fascination as his breath was hot against her skin and his aggressive fingers manhandled her like a broken mannequin.

He muttered angry and passionate words that she didn't pay attention to.

The exquisite relief of the flower really was quite beautiful. She never noticed its beauty before.

He gripped her hips so brutally that she wondered if he punctured her skin with his nails.

He hurt her. His vicious hands tore her skin and printed bruises on her milky limbs. He always has been their father's son. He wore a sadistic grin on his face and brightened when she flinched at the pain he caused. When she caught a glimpse of it, true fear coursed through her veins and she panicked and she wanted to cry.

Then, without warning, he penetrated her violently, not gentle at all.

She gasped at the abrupt, sharp pain. She was still moist from her father, but it felt like he stabbed her and continued to stab her over and over again.

She felt as though she was breaking into pieces from inside.

She buckled under him and all the air in her lungs have been sucked out of her.

Her fingers twisted and tangled in the sheets.

The pain intensified as he rode her hard, without mercy, pounding into her flesh like a heavy hammer against a nail.

It was searing, detestation, and unpleasant.

Rose wanted him out. Her fingers pushed frantically against his hard muscles and she screamed for him to get off.

The bed shook. She kept screaming and begging.

And the bed kept on shaking until it ended.

She stopped screaming.

Afterward, when Rose finally found the strength to move again, she stumbled into the field outside and collapsed on the grasses. She curled into a ball, gasping and shaking.

Its dewy tendrils curled around her ankles and throat. She smelled the flowers of the early dawn, swaying lightly in the rosy morning light. She looked up vacantly at the clouds drifting lazily across the sky.

The morning breeze cooled her hot body and she shivered unconsciously. Her body hurt and she was sore all over. She had stop bleeding, but dried blood coagulated down her legs.

Rose breathed and wanted to cry, except there were no tears in her eyes. She was so confused and it hurt and it hurt and it hurt and she could not breathe well. The air choked her throat and she tried to breath.

She wished nana was here to explain everything to her. Where was nana? She missed her so much. Why was everything so messed up?

She remembered their chaste kisses on the field, where he pressed his lips lovingly against hers. He did not kiss her at all last night. He had tried and she turned her head away in disgust and he did not try again. A kiss would have been inappropriate.

And he would not kiss her so chastely ever again. Not after that.

She held her hand high above her and let it fall.

She closed her eyes and fell asleep in the field.

When Rose came to again, she was cleaned and returned to her bed. Her body healed the sexual marks, and if the sensation of their hands on her body hadn't been so strong, she would have thought of it to be a dream. She didn't know who returned her to her bed, but she didn't care to know.

The less she cared, the less those things will pain her. So she did not care.

Her father's friend came to visit her, worried over her recent disappearance in high society. She received him for tea and watched his golden hair sparkled in the afternoon sun light. He never liked the night, preferred the day.

The maid bought in the tea and the cakes, while he greeted her. She didn't listen to it, still in some silky slip and a silk robe she wore for sleep. She raised one leg languidly and sat distinctly un-ladylike.

Sunlight filtered through the linen clothes, fluttering in the wind. The air was alive with the taste of summer. Hot air blew in and out.

She looked outside as he spoke and interrupted him suddenly. "I want to go swimming."

"Excuse me?" the blond vampire stuttered.

"I want to go swimming," Rose stood up and started walking outside. She glided down the stairs barefooted, and stumbled through the flower fields. The sun burned her skin. The man could hardly catch up to her. Bees and butterflies dotted the green scenery, and the plant life twisted underneath her feet.

There was an old bathing pool of sorts that nana told her mother loved to simmer in on hot summer days. It glittered in the light with its cool, blue water like a sapphire, surrounding by creamy marble. In summer, Rose used to dip her foot into the cool water and imagine that mother was still alive and her family was perfect and her father was the vampire beside her.

When she reached the white bank, Rose shrugged off the silk robe and the slip fell into a silvery pool at her feet. The man behind her looked away, embarrassed at the state of her undressed.

Rose didn't care. She dove in, head first with a brilliant splash. She remained under the water for a few seconds before breaking the disturbed surface.

She looked up at the sky and breathed. Then she swam back toward him in broad strokes, resting her head on the marble bank.

"You were saying?" she inquired. Wet hair stuck to her face and splattered water on the ground.

"Is everything alright?" his green eyes squinted with fatherly concern. "I haven't seen you and you are acting very odd, Rose."

She closed her mouth and looked at him, thinking.

"Are you in love with Mrs. Aidoh?"

Meeting his surprised face, Rose rolled her eyes and said, "You don't have to deny it. I saw you two. If you are worried whether Mr. Aidoh will find out, rest assured, it will not be from my lips."

"I…" the blond man bit his lips and appeared very distressed. "I…"

"Well?" she prompted as the marble evaporated the water and heated up the stone.

"I am very fond of her," he sighed and didn't meet her eyes. "Very fond."

She remembered the night, her pushed up skirt, his lingering fingers, and the sounds, oh god, the sounds that haunted her dreams.

"I wish," she said abruptly and softly, "that someone would be fond of me as you do for Mrs. Aidoh."

"And one day, someone would," he smiled gently and patted her head, "Trust me."

Rose pulled away, swimming in backstroke, facing the bright blue sky.

She exhaled and whispered with a disturbing smile, "I don't think that…"

He didn't hear the rest of her sentence. She ducked under the water and only fleeting illusions under the current hinted where she disappeared.

"Takuma!" she burst out of the surface of splashed water with her free hand, careless like a young girl. "I love you!"

"I love you too," he tried shielding himself from the water, laughing as he splashed back. She sneaked up and pulled him into a pool with a high-pitched giggle. In turn, he dragged her beneath the water just as she resurfaced to breath. In the end, they were both wet and breathless from playing in the pool.

She sneezed as she put her clothes back on and leaned against him, watching the orange sunset, spilling over colorful clouds like mixed oil paints. Drops of water caught in her eyelashes.

"Sometimes," she confessed quietly, "I wish you are my father. Then maybe…"

He shuffled her wet hair like a playful big brother. "What are you talking about Rose? Kaname would be hurt to hear that."

"You and I both know that's not true. He would be happier if mother was alive instead of me. Everyone would be," she tried to say it nonchalantly, but failed. She couldn't help the tears that fell and tried to hide it. "No one wants me alive. They all," she sobbed softly, "they all rather that I died instead of mother."

"That's not true," he assured her sincerely, holding her hand very carefully in his, and staring earnestly into her eyes. "I, for one, would be devastated." He touched her face sweetly and wiped off her tears with his hand.

She looked as if she were about to cry of happiness, but instead smiled through her tears, and said, "Thank you."

Takuma smiled back and embraced the little girl, because he knew no matter how mature she acted, she was still a young child who craved for small gestures of affection. Maybe he should talk to Kaname about her. No matter how much Kaname loved the queen, it was not this child's fault for her death. Surely, Kaname could understand that and come to love his own daughter before it permanently damages this cute girl.

The sun went completely down over the trees of the isolated valley.

Such a sweet young girl shouldn't be locked up in a stuffy old manor all her life. She needed to get out and see the world.

He thought about inviting her to the soiree tonight, but just as he was about to ask, Rose stood up.

"I must go. Good bye Takuma," she waved at someone inside as she dried her tears, and left without letting say another word.

He could really see the blurred figure inside the manor very well. It was too dark and far away. She melted into one with the blurred man and the door closed, shutting out all the light.

It was all black now, not even the moon was out.

And it was the last image Ichijou had of her, a young girl who became so small that she disappeared into the darkness.

There is one last part to this story.

I hope you enjoyed reading this as I enjoyed writing it.