Chichiri was dreaming about fishing on a nice spring day. He just got
a tug on his line when the sky went gloomy. Wicked winds begin to blow,
howling through the treetops. Forgetting his fish, Chichiri stands up and
faces the wind. A low snarl directs his attention to a tiger crouching in
the brush, barely in sight. He raises his arm in defense as the tiger
springs at his throat.
At that moment, he wakes up and spots a white form flying at him. Without thinking, he creates a shield to repel the assassin. Urami hits the field, but her tanto slices through it like butter. The tip barely touches his chest before he throws Urami off the bed, sending her crashing to the floor. She immediately gains her feet and begins to attack again. Suddenly, she can't move. She struggles to move her limbs, but they are stuck fast. Her expression radiates her fury and frustration. Suddenly, her fingers move then her wrists. Chichiri's eyebrows shoot up as he jumps to his feet and grabs his staff.
It seems like only a second passes before Urami's at him again. She slices a wide arch with her tanto. It tears through his shirt and slices him across the chest. Chichiri withdraws, shocked by the frigid wound. "Cold, is it?" Urami purrs. She strikes again, one sharp downward thrust. One cut merges into two, forming a bloody cross over his chest and stomach. Chichiri grits his teeth, then using his staff, knocks her upside the head, causing her to cease her offense. She falls to the floor, unconscious.
As she hits the floor, the door crashes down. In charge Tasuki, Nuriko, and Hotohori, quickly followed by the others. Their eyes travel from the crumpled girl to Chichiri. There is silence. Pointing his tessen at Urami, Tasuki breaks the silence. "What the hell is that?" Chichiri's breathing slows to a more relaxed point. "I suppose it's an assassin, no da." Nuriko crouches down. "It's a girl and she's still alive." He stands up and looks at Chichiri's wounds then at Hotohori. "Well, what do we do with her?" Hotohori scratches his head. "Good question." Everybody sweatdrops.
"I bet she's from Kotou!" Tamahome exclaims, sitting down in a chair. Nuriko sits in the opposite chair and shrugs. "How are we to know?" He looks through the cell at still unconscious girl. Chichiri walks into the hall. "Hello Tamahome, Nuriko, no da." Nuriko looks up. "What's the story with your wounds?" "They're all healed up, no da. It took Mitsukake a little while, though, because there were large amounts of ice present, no da." "Ice?" his company asks in unison.
There is no answer from the monk as he enters the cell. "Chichiri!" Tamahome yells. "What the hell are you doing? Get out of there!" Chichiri kneels down. With swift fingers, he unties the tanto's sheath from her wrist. He begins to stand, but then pulls back her hood to reveal her wild tresses. With that, he exits the cell, locking it securely.
Nuriko stares at the girl, hands on his hips. "Well, I'll be damned. If I didn't know better, I'd say that was Tasuki laying there." Tamahome nods. "It's creepy."
At that moment, he wakes up and spots a white form flying at him. Without thinking, he creates a shield to repel the assassin. Urami hits the field, but her tanto slices through it like butter. The tip barely touches his chest before he throws Urami off the bed, sending her crashing to the floor. She immediately gains her feet and begins to attack again. Suddenly, she can't move. She struggles to move her limbs, but they are stuck fast. Her expression radiates her fury and frustration. Suddenly, her fingers move then her wrists. Chichiri's eyebrows shoot up as he jumps to his feet and grabs his staff.
It seems like only a second passes before Urami's at him again. She slices a wide arch with her tanto. It tears through his shirt and slices him across the chest. Chichiri withdraws, shocked by the frigid wound. "Cold, is it?" Urami purrs. She strikes again, one sharp downward thrust. One cut merges into two, forming a bloody cross over his chest and stomach. Chichiri grits his teeth, then using his staff, knocks her upside the head, causing her to cease her offense. She falls to the floor, unconscious.
As she hits the floor, the door crashes down. In charge Tasuki, Nuriko, and Hotohori, quickly followed by the others. Their eyes travel from the crumpled girl to Chichiri. There is silence. Pointing his tessen at Urami, Tasuki breaks the silence. "What the hell is that?" Chichiri's breathing slows to a more relaxed point. "I suppose it's an assassin, no da." Nuriko crouches down. "It's a girl and she's still alive." He stands up and looks at Chichiri's wounds then at Hotohori. "Well, what do we do with her?" Hotohori scratches his head. "Good question." Everybody sweatdrops.
"I bet she's from Kotou!" Tamahome exclaims, sitting down in a chair. Nuriko sits in the opposite chair and shrugs. "How are we to know?" He looks through the cell at still unconscious girl. Chichiri walks into the hall. "Hello Tamahome, Nuriko, no da." Nuriko looks up. "What's the story with your wounds?" "They're all healed up, no da. It took Mitsukake a little while, though, because there were large amounts of ice present, no da." "Ice?" his company asks in unison.
There is no answer from the monk as he enters the cell. "Chichiri!" Tamahome yells. "What the hell are you doing? Get out of there!" Chichiri kneels down. With swift fingers, he unties the tanto's sheath from her wrist. He begins to stand, but then pulls back her hood to reveal her wild tresses. With that, he exits the cell, locking it securely.
Nuriko stares at the girl, hands on his hips. "Well, I'll be damned. If I didn't know better, I'd say that was Tasuki laying there." Tamahome nods. "It's creepy."