Urami hangs limply in Nuriko's arms as he walks her back to the cell.
He places her down gently, but his face speaks of disgust. The other seishi
look on silently. Chichiri rubs his temporarily busted nose, filled with
mixed emotions. What should he do if she attacked him again? Hug her to
death? The idea sounds incredulous to him.
"Look at me!" Nuriko yells at the others. "Now I'm covered in soot and blood! Next time, you'll pick up your own mess!" He storms away, mumbling. Chichiri watches him leave, then feels himself being stared at. He pretends to rub his forehead, wishing he had his mask. Mitsukake walks over to Chichiri, silent as ever. Chichiri moves his hand as the healer puts his palm close to his face.
A few seconds later, Mitsukake removes his hand from the newly healed monk. A slight smile touches his features. "You need to get in less trouble." He jokes softly then departs. Chichiri peers at the near-dead girl lying in the cell, broken, burnt, bruised, and bloody. He hardly hears Tasuki's bellow of how out of character Mitsukake was. Her once white outfit is now twice stained with blood and nearly burnt off. Hotohori soon leaves, disgusted, and bids the remaining people good night. Tamahome picks up an exhausted Miaka and goes to put her to bed.
Chiriko stands beside Chichiri, also watching Urami. He too is puzzling over what to do. "Wow...even te kid's stumped." Tasuki murmurs loudly to himself. Chichiri turns to the bandit. "What do you suggest we do with her, no da?" He asks. "Kill 'er." Is the response he receives. Chiriko also turns around. "Do really care that little about the fate of your sibling?" With an annoyed sigh, Tasuki shrugs. "I have more."
Chichiri raises both eyebrows in disbelief then returns his attention to the assassin girl. His mind drifts to the holy water Mitsukake gave him. He plays with the idea, uncertain on how it would affect her. If she were consumed by evil, it would kill her. If she had just a touch, it would destroy the taint, but leave her in the same state. If she lacked the presence of darkness, she would heal some. Chiriko looks up at the much older man, intrigued by his intense thought.
Uncomfortable still, Chichiri goes to his room to fetch his mask. He also takes his little bottle of holy water and puts it in the folds of his robe. 'My scar isn't that important.' He thinks to himself, striding swiftly back to the jailing quarters. He steps into the large room, only to find Chiriko and Tasuki have disappeared. 'I can't blame them.' He muses silently. 'It's very late.'
He unlocks the cell then steps inside. Gathering up the shards of courage, he tilts Urami's head back a little. Cupping her head, he uses his thumb to gently open her mouth. With only one hand, he opens the bottle of holy water. The lid falls and spins away into the far reaches of the cell, cloaked in darkness. Chichiri feels himself tense up, nervous about the entire thing.
He brings the rim of the container to her lips, but falters slightly. Sweat coats both his palm and troubled brow as he watches the lax face of the assassin. Gritting his teeth a little, he allows his wrist to bend and pour the holy water into Urami's mouth.
"Look at me!" Nuriko yells at the others. "Now I'm covered in soot and blood! Next time, you'll pick up your own mess!" He storms away, mumbling. Chichiri watches him leave, then feels himself being stared at. He pretends to rub his forehead, wishing he had his mask. Mitsukake walks over to Chichiri, silent as ever. Chichiri moves his hand as the healer puts his palm close to his face.
A few seconds later, Mitsukake removes his hand from the newly healed monk. A slight smile touches his features. "You need to get in less trouble." He jokes softly then departs. Chichiri peers at the near-dead girl lying in the cell, broken, burnt, bruised, and bloody. He hardly hears Tasuki's bellow of how out of character Mitsukake was. Her once white outfit is now twice stained with blood and nearly burnt off. Hotohori soon leaves, disgusted, and bids the remaining people good night. Tamahome picks up an exhausted Miaka and goes to put her to bed.
Chiriko stands beside Chichiri, also watching Urami. He too is puzzling over what to do. "Wow...even te kid's stumped." Tasuki murmurs loudly to himself. Chichiri turns to the bandit. "What do you suggest we do with her, no da?" He asks. "Kill 'er." Is the response he receives. Chiriko also turns around. "Do really care that little about the fate of your sibling?" With an annoyed sigh, Tasuki shrugs. "I have more."
Chichiri raises both eyebrows in disbelief then returns his attention to the assassin girl. His mind drifts to the holy water Mitsukake gave him. He plays with the idea, uncertain on how it would affect her. If she were consumed by evil, it would kill her. If she had just a touch, it would destroy the taint, but leave her in the same state. If she lacked the presence of darkness, she would heal some. Chiriko looks up at the much older man, intrigued by his intense thought.
Uncomfortable still, Chichiri goes to his room to fetch his mask. He also takes his little bottle of holy water and puts it in the folds of his robe. 'My scar isn't that important.' He thinks to himself, striding swiftly back to the jailing quarters. He steps into the large room, only to find Chiriko and Tasuki have disappeared. 'I can't blame them.' He muses silently. 'It's very late.'
He unlocks the cell then steps inside. Gathering up the shards of courage, he tilts Urami's head back a little. Cupping her head, he uses his thumb to gently open her mouth. With only one hand, he opens the bottle of holy water. The lid falls and spins away into the far reaches of the cell, cloaked in darkness. Chichiri feels himself tense up, nervous about the entire thing.
He brings the rim of the container to her lips, but falters slightly. Sweat coats both his palm and troubled brow as he watches the lax face of the assassin. Gritting his teeth a little, he allows his wrist to bend and pour the holy water into Urami's mouth.