"Brother...how nice of you to join us." Urami chokes out huskily. She
forces a grin, though she can hardly breathe. "Brother, no da?" Chichiri
asks, keeping his staff firm on her throat. Tasuki, the slightest bit
embarrassed, nods. "Yep. 'rami's my twin. Crazy, ain't it?" Chichiri
falters for a second, allowing Urami to inhale deeply.
She seems the docile prisoner for but a few moments longer. Enraged, she throws her weight backwards into Chichiri, catching him off balance. One hand slips off his staff, allowing the assassin an escape route. She is fast, but not quite fast enough, as Tasuki releases the fury of his tessen.
The girl is blindly smashed into a wall, clothes and hair ignited. Despite the pain, Urami raises to her feet, growling savagely. Bathed in flames, the femme begins to falter. She finds her right knee wobbly and fragile, while her other is coated in her own blood and blackening. For the first time in her whole life, Urami hears a pained cry escape her throat. Blood trickles out of the corner of her mouth. She feels a strange sort of pleasure and identifies it immediately. She is dying.
She slowly fades into a comforting, familiar darkness. She doesn't feel the icy cold water poured over her to stop the spread of the flame. The seishi gather in the room slowly. Mitsukake, the last to arrive, looks down at her and murmurs. "It's hard to believe, but she's still alive." Tasuki's eyes grow wide. "No way!" Silent, Mitsukake nods. "Sisters 're a bitch."
Chichiri, suddenly realizing his own weakness, sits himself down on his bed. "So...what do we do with her th-this time?" he asks. Miaka stomps her foot. "What we should've done the first time!" Her seishi look at her questioningly. "Make her nice!" She exclaims, feeling quite proud of herself. The warriors glance at one other, sweat dropping.
Unknown to her, Urami is lifted up by Nuriko to be placed back in the cell. The assassin shudders, then involuntarily snuggles up to the cross dresser's chest. Nuriko almost drops her in reply, startled. "I thought you said she was unconscious!" He yells, not knowing what to do. Chiriko fondles his small chin, puzzling silently. Mitsukake, Hotohori, and Chichiri look at him questioningly. "Excuse me, Tasuki, but what was your mother like?" The boy finally asks.
Tasuki pauses for a few seconds, too deep in thought to hear Tamahome's cry of "It's a miracle! He learned how to think!" "Cold n' demandin.' Beat us all, she did." He nods softly. "'rami ran 'way at 5." Chiriko nods, and looks at Chichiri, who's wearing a serious expression. "Though unconscious, Urami must have never been touched in a kind manner. No wonder she reacted so affectionately." The kid genius muses, looking back at the girl, who everybody else is looking at. "I'll be damned." Tamahome murmurs.
She seems the docile prisoner for but a few moments longer. Enraged, she throws her weight backwards into Chichiri, catching him off balance. One hand slips off his staff, allowing the assassin an escape route. She is fast, but not quite fast enough, as Tasuki releases the fury of his tessen.
The girl is blindly smashed into a wall, clothes and hair ignited. Despite the pain, Urami raises to her feet, growling savagely. Bathed in flames, the femme begins to falter. She finds her right knee wobbly and fragile, while her other is coated in her own blood and blackening. For the first time in her whole life, Urami hears a pained cry escape her throat. Blood trickles out of the corner of her mouth. She feels a strange sort of pleasure and identifies it immediately. She is dying.
She slowly fades into a comforting, familiar darkness. She doesn't feel the icy cold water poured over her to stop the spread of the flame. The seishi gather in the room slowly. Mitsukake, the last to arrive, looks down at her and murmurs. "It's hard to believe, but she's still alive." Tasuki's eyes grow wide. "No way!" Silent, Mitsukake nods. "Sisters 're a bitch."
Chichiri, suddenly realizing his own weakness, sits himself down on his bed. "So...what do we do with her th-this time?" he asks. Miaka stomps her foot. "What we should've done the first time!" Her seishi look at her questioningly. "Make her nice!" She exclaims, feeling quite proud of herself. The warriors glance at one other, sweat dropping.
Unknown to her, Urami is lifted up by Nuriko to be placed back in the cell. The assassin shudders, then involuntarily snuggles up to the cross dresser's chest. Nuriko almost drops her in reply, startled. "I thought you said she was unconscious!" He yells, not knowing what to do. Chiriko fondles his small chin, puzzling silently. Mitsukake, Hotohori, and Chichiri look at him questioningly. "Excuse me, Tasuki, but what was your mother like?" The boy finally asks.
Tasuki pauses for a few seconds, too deep in thought to hear Tamahome's cry of "It's a miracle! He learned how to think!" "Cold n' demandin.' Beat us all, she did." He nods softly. "'rami ran 'way at 5." Chiriko nods, and looks at Chichiri, who's wearing a serious expression. "Though unconscious, Urami must have never been touched in a kind manner. No wonder she reacted so affectionately." The kid genius muses, looking back at the girl, who everybody else is looking at. "I'll be damned." Tamahome murmurs.