"Here, wear this," Ayame said.
She held aloft a female ninja's kimono in black.
To this, Miyuki managed a small smile. The material looked soft, but durable. It was sleeveless, unlike her old uniform, and it was truly black, not the dark gray she had previously given up. Taking it in one hand, she stepped behind a screen and slipped it on.
The girls were in Ayame's room, a somewhat small, but very comfortable place overlooking the thick forests. It was early evening now, and the sun had set, leaving a blue tinge to the sky. The room was lit with the soft golden light that made Gohda Palace both magnificent and homely.
"It's very kind of you to share your clothes," Miyuki called, "I didn't think I was ever going to get out of that thing!"
" 'Thing' is right!" Kiku gasped, holding her old kimono at arm's length. The scorches, the tears, the dirt and the....
Kiku gasped and dropped the kimono.
"Yeah," Miyuki said calmly, taking it up and slinging it over the screen. She held the new kimono at the waist. "Demon claws. Not particularly fun."
"You've fought demons?" Ayame asked.
Miyuki smiled slightly, "In an attempt to save one of my past homes, yes."
"What obi?" Kiku asked, pouring over a drawer in Ayame's closet.
Ayame pulled out a long, thin, purple one and looped it around Miyuki's waist. Miyuki held her arms up to allow for this. Finally she tied in a gracefully drooping bow in the back.
"Hey, Ayame!" Kiku called, "What about these?" she held up a pair of silvery thigh-guards.
"They need some repairing," she said nervously. "They've got a few fractures...."
Miyuki smiled gently, "It's no big deal. I'll get them fixed up somehow. Besides, I imagine I'll have enough funding soon enough."
"What do you mean?" Ayame asked with a small frown. "You're supposed to be rich by the profits from your assassinations."
"Burned," she answered simply.
An eerie quiet stole over the room. Miyuki, unabashed, was the first to speak. "So, when is dinner anyway?"
"Oh no!" Kiku gasped, looking out the window as Miyuki fastened her armor on, "We're late!"
The dinner was a private feast with Lord Gohda, the tables laden with unending delicacies. There were a few allies as well, and it more or less got eaten. The fun didn't come until after dinner, when Miyuki and Ayame settled Kiku to bed and left for their own room.
Miyuki made a dive for her futon, curling into a ball beneath her blankets. Ayame did the same, and they just lay still until they deemed it time to get into some bedclothes. Both of the girls wrapped themselves in yukatas of white and blue. Ayame sat down to comb out her hair, and Miyuki peered curiously about the room.
"Looks like you've had luck with the gentlemen," she laughed softly.
At this, Ayame let out a mighty guffaw. "Hardly!" she scoffed. "Why, what gave you that idea?"
In answer, Miyuki held up an ebony comb. It was incredibly feminine, and not like Ayame's tastes at all. It had clearly come from someone who had no clue what to give her.
"Oh," Ayame said, her tone sullen.
"What's wrong?" Miyuki asked with a small frown. "Did your Tatsu give it to you? Or did you finally get your mind off him?"
"No," Ayame said dully. "Rikimaru."
"Who?"
"You may not remember him," Ayame said quietly. "He was pretty quiet after the Rumors about you started. He was pretty much Tatsu's shadow. But after Tatsu died, Rikimaru became leader-"
"And died in combat," Miyuki finished promptly, "fighting Lord Mei-Oh. I've heard it. Every clan in the Province has heard it."
"Oh...," Ayame said quietly.
"Hey," Miyuki said casually, resting a hand on her shoulder, "I can't say I feel your pain, or 'oh poor Rikimaru.' Frankly all I need to know is that he and Tatsumaru were related and that's enough for me to hate him. You know he and I never got along. But I think it's the death he would have wanted."
These words quelled the tears that Ayame had been fighting down. It was true. Rikimaru in all his royally thick-sculled glory would have wanted to go down in battle. And he had.
Feeling slightly better, Ayame managed a small smile. Communicating through silent expressions, Ayame and Miyuki blew out their lanterns and took some rest.
But as Miyuki drifted off, she heard something. A voice, she thought. She groaned, "What Ayame?"
Ayame muttered in response, "I like the red one...."
Ayame was asleep.
Miyuki bit her lip gently, then rolled onto her side. Blotting all out, she closed her eyes, forcing herself to sleep. But there was no denying it. It was a dream, yet more than a dream. As it had always been part of Miyuki's curse, something or someone from Heaven or Hell was warning her. But it was no vision, no cryptic prophesy, just one whispered word as she drifted off into slumber.
"Kurai..."