She had weaknesses…..

It took her a few trembling seconds to remove the knife and staunch the bleeding with a torn piece from her tunic, but thankfully it was done, and done quickly. Misaki did not know what the assassin was planning; but she was quite ready for the worst and any amount of respite only made her nervous.

She examined the bloodied knife, looking for some engraving or seal that would point in the direction of whoever had started this. But, naturally, she found nothing. The knife was absolutely plain, something found in any blacksmiths' shop in any of the towns. Seeing it, Misaki only found her earlier suspicions harden that this powerful and rich someone had planned a very thorough job.

But who...? None of the noblemen and women she saw the entire year had the capabilities. They might dream of treason, or might even speak of it in hushed whispers, but to actually concoct an intelligent attack? They were not capable of that. Then had the King offended the commoners? If then, why should Misaki even be risking her life to fight them? Were not the commoners always right? Did they not have the right to evict their King if they were not satisfied with him?

But this is not right. Something spoke in Misaki's mind.

It is too crude. Too indirect.

Whoever sought to murder the King in his palace was not looking for justice. They were simply looking for murder.

They simply wanted the King out of their way.

And senseless murder was not right.

Even Kings deserve a trial.

Misaki lightly touched her bandage, gingerly getting back on her feet. The knife was held in her hand, and she intended to use it when she found the assassin again.

"Can I have it back?"

Misaki jumped, her sword reflexively swinging in the air around her. Pain flashed through her leg at the sudden movement; but she kept herself steady, keeping her back to the wall. This corridor was dominated by darkness too and it did not help her situation. As before, she could not pinpoint where the voice was coming from. Misaki wondered if all the lamps had been put out on purpose. She slipped the knife in her free hand, twirling it.

"Is this that precious to you?"

"It costs money. And I would not like to waste it."

"I'm sure you were paid enough for tonight to acquire much better knives."

There was a moment of silence.

"May I still have it back?"

The assassin's voice was soft on Misaki's ears. She spoke politely, as if some maid would to her mistress, not what one would expect from someone about to pierce her with knives.

"Sure." Misaki said, tossing the knife in her hand, so its blade was in her fingers. "After you come into the light."

A deep silence succeeded her words and Misaki knew that she had said the right thing. Now it was only the matter of whether her challenge would work in her favor or not. She pressed against the wall, her senses peeled for an attack, her leg throbbing, her brow sweating; when the assassin stepped out.

The first thing Misaki looked at was her hands, hanging limply by the girl's sides and completely hidden by her large, open sleeves. But Misaki was sure that they would be holding knives, ready to let them fly in a split moment. Half of her face was hidden in her hood, and all Misaki could discern was a perfect, smooth chin and full, pink lips.

Pretty…

Misaki tossed the knife towards her, and the assassin caught it; with barely a flick of her wrist. Her robes moved, and Misaki caught sight of pink, slender fingers until they disappeared again.

How can an assassin have such unmarked skin?

"Why aren't you attacking me?" she suddenly asked. The girl twitched suddenly, as if Misaki's voice had broken some kind of stupor.

"...You said we were going to have a fair fight." She tilted her hooded-head to Misaki's bleeding leg. "But…."

Misaki gave a slight shrug, not taking her eyes off her.

"I can't do anything about it right now."

The girl twitched again, and her sleeve pulled back, revealing her long fingers, several knives tucked in between, shimmering in the moonlight.

"I could injure myself….plunge these in both of my legs." she said, her tone completely level. "..But I am afraid it still won't make things fair between us."

A shiver ran down Misaki's spine at her words. At once, she knew that what the assassin said was true.

Sweat dropped off her eyebrow and railed down her cheek. She gave a wry chuckle.

"It would seem so….but I suppose I wasn't being that literal before."

"You just wanted to save your soldiers."

"Yes."

The girl looked up, and Misaki saw the glint of her eyes in the darkness.

"I would just kill you and then go on to them."

"I know." Misaki replied immediately. "The idea is for me to do as much damage as I can."

There was silence. The girl seemed to be contemplating something as she looked at Misaki.

"You can simply tell me where the King is." she intoned. "I shall do my job and leave all of you be. I do not have to kill any of you."

Misaki's fingers were itching at her sword handle. How much time had passed? Was the hour over? Was the Prince coming to help? Or was he just smirking at the King, telling him he had known Misaki was hopeless? Was the King disappointed? Did he even care?

She smiled.

"That is a beautiful suggestion. However it is my job to protect the King and this palace. I am not going to give up, as you are not."

The girl nodded, her lips pursing in something like disappointment.

Misaki widened her stance, raising her sword with both hands, as the assassin jumped.

She dodged the first volley of knives, twisting on her good leg and slashing upwards at her attacker. The girl flipped in mid-air, pivoting on the wall above Misaki and pushing farther back, out of reach. Both of them stopped only for a moment, before plunging into action again. The assassin flew around her, her feet barely ever touching the ground, showering Misaki with knives from every side.

Misaki parried and slashed as best as she could, but her leg made movement difficult, and one by one, knives began to bury themselves in her. One found her upper arm, and she switched her sword hand, still battling on, then another blade cut at her temple, her cheek, then her thigh. She dropped to the ground when a knife landed in her calf. Blood pooled around her, but somehow she kept her sword aloft.

This is it, then…..

She tried to push up again, even as she felt the assassin land next to her, only the slow shift of her robe giving away her presence. Maybe she liked to kill her victims slowly. Or maybe she intended to torture information out of Misaki. She clamped her mouth shut. Nobody was getting anything out of her.

The sword trembled in Misaki's hand, unable to take her weight. Her teeth were clenched tightly; she did not intend to make any noise. She was in pain. But this was the pain she had chosen for herself. And she had failed to accomplish anything for it. Her soldiers would just die later than sooner.

The shadow of the assassin met hers and the black hem of her robes came into view. Misaki wondered, if she could just not make an effort one….last...time…..

She was just adjusting her grip on her sword for a final swing, when a horrible shout echoed in the corridor.

Misaki felt the body of the assassin twist above her, and the sickening sound of a blade plunging itself into flesh. Her body froze in wide-eyed shock when the black hem turned scarlet with blood. Not her blood.

The assassin fell, knees buckling and twisting. Something inexplicable gave Misaki the strength she needed to turn her head and look at the body, pale and limp, with a broad-sword sticking through one shoulder, slick with blood. The assassin's hood had fallen off, and Misaki noticed pink, glossy hair, tumbling down narrow shoulders, and a golden charm swinging off her neck. There was no telling whether she was dead or alive.

"Misa-chan!" a familiar voice was calling her.

Misaki barely had time to turn towards the source of the voice, before she was falling herself, her sword clattering out of her grip. All she was able to glimpse was a tall figure with dark hair and blood-stained hands; catching her in his arms; before her vision started to dim.

"Misa-chan…!" The voice yelled hoarsely in her ear, cradling her gently in his arms. Misaki did not remember the last time someone had held her. She avoided it, because the immense comfort was something she was too terrified to accept. But it had certainly been a long night. Maybe if she went unconscious for just a little while….

"She was the last one. It is over. You can relax now…"

Oh right….

It was all over…

Her breath came in short pants, as if every movement was a strain on her lungs. But slowly, in the comfort of her friend's arms, Misaki recovered herself. Despite everything, she did not let her hold collapse, keeping herself just at the edge of the beguiling darkness. Her eyes flitted to the robed girl with pink hair lying in front of her, and discerned the slight rise and fall of her chest. Still breathing. Still alive.

"Shintani." she said, her voice weaker than she would have wanted; and pushed herself up. The movement sent her mind in a whirl, and she willed herself not to pass out. She slipped to her knees, her bloodied fingers reaching out to her sword. "Take the girl to the physician. Tell Satsuki-san to spare no effort in reviving her. It is essential she does not die." she looked up at him, hoping her face did not betray how she was on the brink of crumpling.

"Do you understand?"

A wave of confusion and panic passed in her friend's light-brown eyes, and Misaki despaired. She did not have the strength to argue with him. Then his face turned grim, taking on the soldier facade, and he stood up. He nodded to her once, and helped her on her feet. Normally, Misaki would have despised taking any help, but this time she accepted it without comment.

"I'll be with you soon." she told him, repeating the words she had only said moments before to the others.

Shintani gave her one last grim glance, his mouth taut as if he were steeling himself. Misaki held his gaze, blood dripping down all over her, seeping in her clothes, her hair wild and matted; but her gaze was the same. Strong, willful, commanding. It was not something most people could refute. The boy turned and bundled the assassin in his arms, rushing to the corridor opposite.

Now then…..what is the time?

Misaki waited only a few seconds before she turned away, limping over the usually sparkling white marble floor. Every step brought excruciating pain, but she told herself it would soon be over.

The palace had been saved.

But she had one last thing to do.

….

A/N:

YAYAAYAYAAY