During the time in the tunnels under Edo castle, the many hours, maybe days, of charging through the shadows toward unknown enemies, she only stumbles once.
It will only get harder the further they get, Rin knows, and eyes Doa's bloody sword with a surge of worry. The girl will only make it if she keeps calm. She will only keep calm if Rin does the same.
They leave the torch-lit passages behind and enter billowing darkness, chilly and damp against her bare arms. The adrenaline is diffusing in her veins, leaving her hands prickly, her throat dry, her ears filled by the dull sound of her own heartbeats. Ice-cold water soaks through the soles of her sandals, numbing her feet. The floor is as slippery as glass.
When she loses her footing, she finds she has been expecting it.
Doa is by her side in an instant, shoving her against the wall to keep her upright. For such a tiny girl Doa can be surprisingly strong, and Rin grits her teeth so as not to cry out when she is forcefully slammed into stone.
She doesn't realize until Doa stands on her toes and presses their bodies closer together that her hip is rubbing sharply between Rin's legs, the touch sending little sparkling jolts up her spine. It can't possibly be on purpose, Rin decides, biting down on a gasp.
It's hard to breathe, harder to think. Doa grinding against her feels better than what should be allowed, and Rin's hands fail at pushing her away again and again, fluttering over her shoulders like undecided butterflies. She wonders in panic if Doa even knows what it is she's doing, but then the girl grabs her braids and pulls her head down for a kiss that makes it clear that yes, yes, she does.
Doa's lips are smeared with the iron taste of blood. For a dizzying second, the thought of men cut to shreds in the tunnels behind fly through Rin's mind and would likely make her hurl if only Doa's hip wasn't so insisting, wasn't moving faster and faster, rough and precise in just the right amounts until Rin pushes her head back against the stone and breathes out the pleasure in one trembling, shallow sigh.
The feeling is abruptly cut short when Doa draws back and away. She adjusts her robe with natural indifference, and her face tells only of impatience.
"Gotta be fast, Rin," she says and sticks her chin up. "Gotta be fast, but you gotta keep cool," and with that she sets off into the dark on quick, silent steps.
Rin stares after her in disbelief – because, really, some nerve of the little hypocrite – but there has never been a worse time to argue, so she stuffs away her pride and irritation for later and follows.
Though the ground below is slippery and uneven, her feet are steady, the foothold is new. The darkness chases after her, snapping at her heels, but when she speeds up she finds she can outrun it. Ahead, Doa's blade is a glimmer of light.
She licks her lips and tastes the iron.