Change
It seemed brash at first to swoop into a city and kill a man, only to run away afterwards. Kiku had voiced his worry to Yao who told him that Kiku would only attack at very certain times.
Before each attack Yao called him to his room and told him the details of the man. He told him weaknesses, he told him appearances, and everything except what the man actually did. This suspended bit of information Kiku never questioned, seeing as he believed he shouldn't question the wise scholar.
That did not stop Kiku's rational mind. He constantly wondered what was in the letters he held. He was told to believe that Yao's word was correct and that the enemy was to be eliminated for the village's sake.
But Kiku rarely went out to fight and kill. He stayed behind, training with Xiao or studying with Yao. And, sometimes he met a strange woman who arrived with clandestine messages. She did not regard Kiku once during her meetings, as if he truly was a ghost. Her long hair, a good few inches more than Kiku's, seemed to slim down her entire bodice. She was feminine in appearance. Her personality and strength were brute and stubborn, flinging any ideas that she was weak away without leaving a trace.
For the most part, Kiku was bored.
. . .
Xiao gave Kiku a distrustful gaze. He sat, or more like perched on the ground, his hands between his knees. He continued to give Kiku a burning glower, as if he wanted to spar again. Kiku did not return his gaze, instead sipping his broth calmly and studying a series of notes Yao had passed on to him for the next target.
Even though Xiao practiced with Kiku regularly, no form of friendship had spurned between the two. Kiku was well aware of this. But he also knew Xiao was an able fighter and trusted him if it came down to a brawl at some point. He didn't know what this hypothetical situation entailed, but he didn't truly care either.
"Do you like father as your teacher?" Xiao asked. His dark hair fell in his eyes. Yao had told him to put it up with numerous "aiya"s punctuating his demands.
Kiku set his bowl down. "He is a wise teacher."
"He's harsh and cruel."
Kiku looked down at the scars running across the back of his hand. "He is teaching with discipline."
"He wasn't always like this."
"He has learned. I suppose he has changed for the better."
"No, he was nice before. He was kind."
"He offered me this opportunity."
Xiao scoffed and stood, stalking away like an irate cat. He had a habit of dragging his feet and clenching his fists. Yao, who passed the hallway with a bundle of scrolls, scolded him. Xiao momentarily straightened his back, looking defiantly at Yao. But Yao had already turned away, shutting himself in the room.
"You see?" Xiao asked with his back still to Kiku. Slowly, his spine curled back into a demure posture.
"I never lived with him before. I don't know."
Xiao gave him a strange look. Kiku returned the gaze curiously, pulling his long hair to his shoulder. He ran his fingers through, checking for tangles. Even when he trained he had tried to keep his hair short, as it made him uncomfortable. Now he had decided on this style, feeling the strength and the weight.
Kiku sighed and waited for Xiao to respond. Xiao's expression was glassy, distant. He turned away from Xiao and stalked away.
