The scent of honey stuck to the air of the tiny room in which Tasuke sat, Aki beside him while they knelt before the finely polished square table within its center. In silence they remained, Tasuke redressed in silk of purple yet with hair still wet. Aki had unfurled her ponytail, the stripes of black and white licked over her cheeks and slender neckline. It gave her normally childlike innocence a new maturity, an eloquence that allowed her uncommon beauty to be shown like dawn light creeping up through high hills. Only those that did not know her would ever doubt her ability to kill, a hidden ferocity that allowed her to loose a sea of blood in her wake. Tasuke could only admire her, but for the moment both wore expressions of unease.

Twilight had begun to soak the land in waning sun, the glow from the rightward window reduced to a dismal dark with the rain’s leave. Night would fall within the hour or more. The room was simple, perhaps more of a quiet area of study if one were to judge by the rows of bookshelves that lined both side walls. Nothing more decorate the area, nothing to gander upon while they waited for Shisuka to return with tea. A light hum could be heard floating from the open doorway to their left, one he knew to be no more than an attempt for her to distract herself from the hatred she fed within; while their previous conversation momentarily removed her desire to kill, he knew her thirst for vengeance grew ever more ravenous.

And now all three of us are in danger.

Without question, Restuya was more an annoyance than he could ever hope to arouse. A deluded master of manipulation, who meticulously thought out every possibility, thought out every action to suit her needs that now was likely shamed and very wroth. He estimated her first goal would be retaliation, and Tasuke was well aware she knew Aki was the dearest thing to his heart. But her would protect her—and break anyone that sought her harm.

A light bump of his shoulder pulled him from his ponderings, attentive to Aki as she leaned against him. A look of dolor stained the features of her face, but she did not speak. “Aki?” he called.

She stared forward in emptiness, as if entranced by her thoughts. Several seconds passed before she finally replied, “You know, that day when I left the group, I thought I would be free. I thought I’d be able to return with Lady Aoi and come back to the tavern…then she died. I lost the person most precious to me…but even so, I thought I could be happy so long as I was close to you. But…” She paused. “The blood I have spilled keeps pulling me back. Even now we will be forced to kill to survive.”

That was an unfortunate truth. Where she had once had a choice, she—they—now found themselves in a position without retreat. They were to fight or die; while he had formed a comfort in that before, now he lived for a better reason—one greater than a conditional killer. He’d long resolved to die on his terms, by the sword if anything else. But now he breathed for Aki’s smile, and there would be no simper in his death. He would not taste death, nor would she, but those that stood against them would not know his mercy.

Aki would get no consolation, however, for Shisuka glided into the room with her elegant stride and a tray with three steaming cups atop it in her hands; as she carefully placed the tray before them and took a kneeling position at the opposite end of the table, Aki not so much as rose her face to look, nor reached for the offered refreshment.

Tasuke took his cup in his hands in unison with Shisuka’s thin pianist fingers, but could not join her in the sip. He simply stared absently into the dark liquid that rippled with hand tremor, the waves as uneven as the thoughts which vexed his mind. He sought answers and a plan, as the Shogunate surely knew where Shisuka lived. The could not afford to dally. He looked up to the woman of refined aesthetes and asked, “What are we to do, Shisuka?”

She finished her sip with a satisfied exhalation and answered, “We will travel to Yokohama, and leave by a carriage to be arranged by nightfall. We will stay with my contact in Yokohama until we devise a plan of action against Retsuya and the Shogunate.”

That was satisfactory, even enough to incite him to smile. “Good.” He took a gulp of tea, the sweetness of honey a tickle to his tongue. Its rich texture and smooth taste reflected great care, and he restrained a chuckle when he thought of how Shisuka took all the time needed despite the situation. Her training in making tea seemed to be seared into her character. Regardless, they now had a course of action, and could carry Retsuya’s game—and their own—along a bit further.

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Armies lay in waste, their corpses strewn along, an all-too-faint breath of death, a shallow little song.

With my sword I kiss the wicked, and bring them to their knees, with this sword their evil is answered and heaven is well pleased.

Those who spread the tainted seed, who know that they have sinned, will feel the icy steel I swing like a whisper in the wind.