Armour-piercing Shuriken

Injuries II

She stood there.

Utterly alone.

Though not literally.



She stood there.

Amidst the rain of blood.

The shower of blood.

That she would remember forever.



A man with a cross-shaped scar on his left cheek looked at her.

With the deadliest eyes she had ever laid eyes on.

With the most powerful sword she had ever seen.



And she glanced back at the bodies on the road.

One of which was that of her fiancé.

Her dead fiancé.



She closed her eyes.

Her body could not remain on its feet.



She had the feeling of free-falling.

And everything was forgotten from that point on.



With his lightning speed, he caught her.

Just before she hit the ground.

Inexplicable, what prompted him to do so.

After all, what his honour dictated was simply to not kill her, leave her alive.



He carried her to his room in an inn.



She was refined, dignified.

And quiet.



The Battousai watched as she moved about his room with a grace most becoming.

She had long hair; black. It matched her eyes.

Her sad eyes.



Sooner or later, it had to happen.

And the killer with a bloodstained heart and hands was falling in love.



With a woman he had almost killed.



In the courtyard of that same inn stood a woman.

Who had paused in her sweeping. Paused to think.



How could she look at him in that way?



Yukishiro Tomoe was chastised.

She turned her glance to the floor again.



How could she look at him in that way?



He had killed her fiancé.

The man she had loved.



When she looked up again, her eyes were steely.



I will not love him.

I must not.

I cannot!



But love, as you all know, has no master.



Yukishiro Tomoe stood at that very same spot a day or two later.

Staring into the distant mountains.


And bidding a last goodbye to a dead man.

A dead man she had loved.

Who now had a special place in her heart.

Forever.



But her love for another man had grown stronger.



And a pinkish tinge emerged on her cheeks as she flicked a glance at the hunched figure in the doorway.



A figure always there.

Always there.



She smiled.



He didn't see her.



But she knew he would have smiled back.