Disclaimer: All characters from Akame ga Kill that appear in this fanfic rightfully belong to Takahiro. I do not own anything; I have Takahiro to thank for that.
Author's Notes: Good news everyone. I'm lucky to receive the assistance of RevansStories as my new betareader for this story. The additional and valued aid is the reason why this month's update came out as early as it did. So there should definitely be a big thank you to RevansStories.
Just a reminder that I have a poll up on my profile. I'm currently seeking for the opinions of my helpful readers about which direction I should take the relationship between Yukio and Akame.
To all the reviewers who delivered thoughtful feedback, I would like to give a moment to show my appreciation. Thank you for the support.
Ultimatrix bearer: I agree that the dress being her former attire would have been a constant reminder of her past. Although I do think that the dress Martha gave Akame would affect her psyche more, seeing as Martha was like a surrogate mother to her and ended up being her first assassination target.
RevansStories: We discussed through PM so there's not much for me to comment on other than to place emphasis on how much I am grateful for your help.
SeihoTheNeko: Cellphone is doing autocorrect? No worries, since I understood your review just fine. Thank you for addressing to my question, and in a very thoughtful manner. Don't worry though, as I'll be doing my best to ensure that the characters act accordingly by respecting their personalities no matter what happens with the poll result. And a three way love triangle between Tatsumi, Yukio and Seryu? That's some mind-blowing imagination you got there! ;P
Commonwealth: Thank you once again for your detailed review. It is very much welcomed and appreciated. I'm pleased to see how deep you've dig into Yukio's character, simultaneously bringing forth elements that I planned to address and also elements that I did not consider. This is very helpful, seeing as your insight will help with my brainstorming. You are indeed right about Yukio having mixed feelings when it comes to Akame and that one day he may encounter impactful choices. I love how you depicted their relationship as Yin and Yang, since the basis of Yukio is in fact that he is like the polar opposite to Akame. You are absolutely not over thinking about the potential romance/rivalry between the two.
Wizard Saint: To answer your question, I would have to say that I'm currently still considering where to take things with Akame in terms of her relationships. However, I can tell you that there is a higher chance for TatsumiXMine or TatsumiXEsdeath given the overview of the plot that I have in mind. Still I would like to emphasize that nothing is set in stone yet.
(Beta read by RevansStories)
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Chapter 20— Kill Esdeath's New Group I
"Ah, if it hurts and you want to cry, come here quickly.
If it makes you happy, even this life isn't valuable.
Ah, bodies squirm, turning into bloodlust.
I believe I can meet you.
I'll thrust you down.
We will dye red…"
-Red Love (Mirai Nikki: Gasai Yuno's Theme Song)
Location: Southern Regions outside of the Capital. Time: Afternoon. Year: 1024 (Day 95).
The girl's humming was fast-paced as the sinister lyrics floated in the complex space that was her head. It was a song that she had never sung before, as singing was a talent that didn't come to her as naturally as killing did. Nonetheless, the lyrics were very memorable as they complimented her situation extremely well.
Having lost herself in the chorus, she finally decided that she had used up more than enough time resting and watching the dark clouds gather over the horizon. She stood up from her seated position and made an effort of trying to smoothen out her windswept black hair. In one fluent motion, she adjusted her short tresses so that the locks at the back branched out to resemble short twin-tails. The hairstyle was nothing close to fashionable and it wasn't common, though she preferred it over long hair.
Different to other girls her age, she didn't usually care about her appearance nor did she fancy putting on some makeup. However, she did have the decency to make herself presentable, considering how she was returning to the Capital. Apparently, she was being reassigned into a special division with new teammates. In other words, it was an offer of promotion that she couldn't decline due to her circumstances.
'Don't worry you guys; so long as I do well, I'll be able to have our existence acknowledged even further by the Empire. Who knows, maybe I can bring her back... even if it means cutting her down with my own hands.'
She dusted her black sailor-like uniform and fixed her red belt so that her sheathed katana was securely tied to her side. Her jet-black eyes then slowly drifted to inspect her lithe figure, starting from her black shoes, moving up to the pair of long black socks, protective red gauntlets, plain black skirt and shirt before reaching the crimson neckerchief she wore around her neck. Once satisfied that everything was fit to be seen, she resumed her journey on the dirt path.
She walked in a moderate rate for an hour or so, finding no reason to make haste. Her surroundings remained unvarying as she continued on the same path. To her left, the ground deviated as the earth gradually modified into a waterlogged area of little vegetation. Only the tallest weeds and a few water plants sprouted from the muddy water. She heard that it used to be prosperous until war drove the farmers away and the crops were left unattended.
The opposite side was flanked by tall trees, giving an overall impression of a thriving environment filled with plantation. Further down, the forest was abruptly met with rocky cliff faces. In theory, the forest route was a shortcut to the Capital, though the number of high-classed Danger Beasts that resided there deterred most trespassers.
For one thing, the girl was well-trained and would've taken the route on her right but the person she was supposed to meet up with insisted the open path for some unknown reasons. Thus, she chose the dreary path to appease that person. But to her frustration, the one accountable for her misery was late. She had already reached their rendezvous spot, but no one was there for two whole days.
'He better have a good explanation for this… Hmm, oh! It's almost time!' As it was her regular habit, she took out a large sack she had attached to her belt. She already had quite a few rice balls prepared by her teammates for lunch, but that did nothing to stop her from reaching into the sack and taking out a round-shaped sweet. She began munching on the provisions, all the while having one arm wrapped around the bag as she walked. As far as she was concerned, the bag of cookies was as important to her as her blade. She couldn't part with it; she even had her name, Kurome, written in large block letters on the sack.
'Oh, half gone already. Hmm, but it should be fine for three more days. I'll be able to restock after I arrive at the C—'
An unforeseen draft stirred and immediately cut off her musing. Her eyes narrowed into slits and she tightened the strings around her bag. She mentally cursed the dust that got onto her sweets since she wasn't keen on the additional favoring. She reached for her katana. However, her hand got no further than an inch before someone appeared behind her with breathtaking speed and snaked their arm around her waist in a vice-like grip. Instantly, she felt the cold tip of a knife positioned no more than a millimeter away from her pulse.
Without moving her head, Kurome's eyes darted right and she could vaguely make out a man dressed in black. His unrevealing sapphire eyes were as overwhelming as a tidal wave surging towards her as they seared into her obsidian orbs. Any other would've broken down in cold sweat, but Kurome merely stood there with a miniature smirk that was just distinguishable on the corner of her lips.
"Ah, sensei. It has been a while."
"You let your guard down," the attacker, who Kurome recognized as Mamoru, spoke with the intent to denunciate her.
"How can you be so sure? I'm not done yet."
Kurome's cryptic tone had Mamoru furrowed his brows. In that instant, it was only the transient shift in the air current that warned him of a potential threat. The Silencer's legs slid against the floor as he released Kurome. He took three steps back, his head swiveling as he searched for the presence that was behind him.
The surprise on Mamoru's face was just perceptible as the general stared at a young man with short blonde hair and blue eyes. He was donned in a long trench coat, olive-colored pants, and knee-high boots. A green and blue scarf was spotted around his neck and a white mask covered the lower half of his face, successfully keeping his identity hidden. Despite that, Kurome knew that Mamoru recognized the individual, for his eyes clandestinely grew larger.
"See? I knew you were coming. There was no need to give me a warning, because all that managed to accomplish was get superfluous flavoring on my cookies," Kurome remarked, ardent in proving Mamoru wrong. Fairly familiar with the Silencer's personality, she signaled the man beside her to lower his naginta-like weapon, understanding that her former teacher would be uncomfortable with the possible menace. A wry smile crept on her features as she watched Mamoru eased himself out of his fighting stance. Essentially, there wasn't a huge difference in his posture, though the way that his retractable knife was tucked back inside his pocket told Kurome enough.
From what she could recall, the knife was nothing more than a tool that Mamoru kept around. Its only notable purposes were to peel the skin off fruits and to cut ropes. Therefore, she wasn't too concerned about its sharpness when it was near her gullet.
"And you're late," Kurome suddenly stated, obviously not pleased by her teacher's unpunctuality. In her opinion, it was hypocrisy that any tardiness from her seniors went about unpunished while her younger self had suffered severe penalties for being late.
"…"
Mamoru, being the stoic person he was, opted to remain silent and so Kurome reluctantly dropped the issue. Being in separate divisions meant that it was not often that she saw Mamoru and even if chances permitted them to stumble upon each other, they weren't allowed to talk. Anyone, even her socially awkward self, would feel tempted to catch up with an old acquaintance. Taking the initiative, Kurome gestured towards her puppet. "This is Natala, a friend of mine from childhood. You two met once when he was still alive."
"I don't care." With that said, Mamoru began to take measured steps down the path, motioning Kurome to follow. Partly expecting Kurome to be irked, he was inwardly relieved when the girl merely shrugged and trailed behind him. It wasn't in his intention to irritate the girl but he was averse to being associated with a mindless puppet, believing it to be absurd. Once a person departed this life, he had no obligation to remember their face or name.
"You're as cold as always." Expecting just as much from him, Kurome overlooked his hardhearted attitude. Instead, she tapped her index finger on her blade's black hilt, severing the link that bounded Natala to the physical world. Her childhood friend's form became shadowy before he vanished completely into thin air. At once, Kurome's strength returned to her and she felt it surge into every fiber of her being, rejuvenating her senses. 'While Natala is a remarkable bodyguard, the amount of energy I need to summon him is far greater than Apeman and the others. Come to think of it, I wonder if it has to do with how much potential the puppet has. If that's true, then I can't wait to see how much power I'll need to use sis. Anything for sis though… as long as we get to battle side-by-side again and be together forever.'
On top of the fact that Mamoru produced no sound while walking, being absentminded nearly made Kurome bump into her former teacher. Stopping herself just in time, her head perked up and she briefly wondered why they had halted. It was then she detected it, a barely measurable tremor from the ground.
"Ground movement," she said as much to herself as the quiet Mamoru. Not expecting a reply, she looked over her shoulder and saw how the path bent just behind her. She was so focused with her musing that she didn't realize that they had just rounded a corner. In any case, it could be used to their advantage, considering how they were unseen by the newcomers until they completed the turn.
Mamoru dropped down and kneed on the floor, unmindful of the dust that covered his pants. Pressing two palms on the soil, he placed an ear against the ground, listening to the rhythm of the tremors. Based on frequency of each vibration, he assumed that two horses pulling a carriage were impending.
The Silencer leaped back onto his feet, intending to cut off the newcomers. The silver shield on his back split into two components that mimicked a bird spreading its wings. He grabbed Kurome around the arms and hoisted her off the ground. Now given a bird's eye view, he noticed that his earlier assumption was indeed correct. A person sitting on the front ledge of the carriage was holding onto the reins of two auburn stallions that were responsible pulling the carriage.
Scrutinizing the exterior of the carriage gave Kurome the impression of an ordinary cart belonging to a merchant. However, what prompted her for re-evaluation was the unmistakable red bandana that the driver wore. Kurome felt a wave of abhorrence turning her stomach. Only someone from the Revolutionary Army would be sported with the headwear that was engraved with a blue cross to the side.
A daunting smile twisted the corner of her lips as her hand made its way to her katana. Her unrestrained aura gave off a baleful vibe. The air seemed frozen, the sun felt distant, and even Mamoru could feel the wind shy away. In that instant, it was as if Kurome's killing intent had scared off nature itself.
"So this is the reason why you chose this route. You speculate that the rebels are using this path to sneak their way around the Capital," said Kurome, her smile never waning. Since being suspended midair offered little room for an attack, she dedicated a moment to make sense of the situation.
Kurome's vast killing intent attracted attention and Mamoru was forced to steer to the right as an arrow narrowly hissed past his ear. A little annoyed, he looked down and his sapphire orbs locked on his enemies. There were five altogether, all standing beside the carriage.
"It seems a frontal assault is our only option," Kurome deduced, exposing her steel into the sunlight. There was no longer the luxury of an ambush, not that it mattered much to her. Regardless of the circumstances, she would slaughter her enemies in the name of the Empire. Her dark eyes flashed dangerously and she pointed her katana, March of the Dead: Yatsufusa, at her foes. "We should land. We're both vulnerable to that archer if we stay airborne. Just to let you know, none of my puppets can fly."
Heeding Kurome's words, Mamoru landed and rested his eyes on the mentioned archer. He was a middle-aged man of average height, with few strands of black hair to cover the fact that he was practically bold. With shoulders tight and bow strung, the archer looked arrogant in the standard attire that the rebels wore, which included a checkered collar, boots, and horse-riding gloves. In spite of the intense pressure emanating from Mamoru, the archer was gallant enough to meet his eyes through his pince-nez styled glasses. Nonetheless, being bold didn't equate to strength, so the Silencer spared him no more attention and moved his sight to the left.
"Bulat." The briefest flicker of amusement lit Mamoru's features as he eyed the Man-Slayer like a daunting predator. He would never have dreamt of encountering such adversary here, though claiming his head seemed undemanding at present, given how he could catch a strong scent of blood from Bulat. Judging from his relatively paled face, Mamoru knew that the Night Raider was injured and had every reason to suspect that The Three Beasts had something to do it. The timing was just too perfect to be coincidental.
"Mamoru, damn it…" Bulat cursed and inched closer towards Spear. The woman, presumably having noticed the seriousness of the situation, cooperated and allowed such action. Thus, the Man-Slayer used his muscular body to shield her from view. It was his responsibility to ensure Spear's safety and by diverting Mamoru's attention, perhaps the Silencer would disregard the noblewoman. The notion seemed unlikely and Bulat knew it. Mamoru was like a machine programmed to kill. He had no remorse or honor in his morals. He would kill women and children with the same brutality he demonstrated to seasonal warriors.
A breeze kicked up, noticeably toying with Spear's blonde tresses. There was a hint of a foreboding sensation that Bulat detected from the air. But before he could do anything, a spray of crimson flew from the man furthest away from him. There was no time to counteract as the man's head separated itself from the neck.
Spear gasped and stepped back, narrowly missing the fountain of blood. Despite having seen countless deaths, she felt a wave of nausea working its way up her stomach. Her eyes widened and a hand shot up to cover her mouth. "A-Ah! How did he—?"
"I would love the answer to that question too," said Bulat. Although he had witnessed Mamoru in action several times, the Night Raider had yet to fathom the extent of the Silencer's attacks. And since his character was equally difficult to interpret, there was no way of confirming whether he slaughtered randomly or if there was actually a pattern to his killing. After all, if he possessed the ability to kill without anyone noticing, then why did he not slaughter everyone at once?
'If I can work out how he does it, then I know I can block it. There has to be a trick behind—'
The emergence of more killing intent alerted Bulat of the impending danger. His mind propelled him forward but his body failed to react in time. Biting back a curse, he watched with widened eyes as the tip of Kurome's blade pierced through the chest of another man. The stallions whined and flared their nostrils as their master dropped to the ground, a mess in his own pool of blood.
"That's two down. Three left. I won't let anyone who betrays the Empire live." Kurome yanked her weapon free from the corpse, and felt a tingling sensation from Yatsufusa. The blade was calling out to her. But before she could summon any of her puppets, an orotund voice cut through.
"Kurome!" Bulat frowned, his lips pressed tightly against each other. "What are you doing here? Do you still intend to work for the Empire?"
"Don't address me with such familiarity… Ah, I see. I thought I've seen you around somewhere. You're Bulat of Night Raid. You must've heard about me from my dear sister." Kurome allowed the last part of her sentence to roll off with a strange sense of affection and enmity as she studied the muscular man. It was like she couldn't decide which of the two feelings was more prominent. "Where is she now?"
The archer stepped forward before Bulat could say anything. With the bowstring strung and pulled tightly back, the Night Raider noticed how his arms strained against the resistance of the bow. A man adept with the weapon wouldn't be shaking so much, with the arm strength to maintain the bow at full-drawn. 'Looks to me he spends too much time relying on his Teigu's ability and not enough time on strengthening his mind and body. We're at a disadvantage right off the bat.'
"Nuge-san, wait. Don't be rash," Bulat advised as his hand reached out to grasp the halberd behind his back, readying himself for any frontal assaults. Kurome was the only one who had moved, while Mamoru stood stationary. It was unnerving that he managed to kill at that distance and without any implication as to how he accomplished such feat. There was no body movement, no blinking, and not even any killing intent. There was absolutely nothing but a transitory tingle as the wind whistled past.
"I know what I'm doing! She's mine! My L'Arc Qui Ne Faut will pierce right through her!" Unaware of the reason behind Bulat's concerns, Nuge was assured by his Teigu's ability. It could hit any target within a certain range. Its accuracy was unquestionable and the close distance between him and his opponent only reinforced the fact.
"Target Kurome!" With that strident shout, the arrow flew from the string with a hum. Nuge laughed, "The person who singlehandedly took down an Imperial assassin and a general of The Four… That's what the name of Nuge shall be associated with and forever etched into the annals of history!"
The projectile left a trail of blue light as it soared through the air like a comet. It was unmistakably fast, but the speed was nothing Mamoru couldn't outdo. Like greased lightning, the Silencer sped towards Kurome and stretched one arm outward. His middle and index fingers joined together and he caught the shaft, stopping it in mid-flight. Applying a little force, he snapped the arrow in half and watched impassively as the two pieces littered the ground around his feet.
"I could have dodged it," Kurome stated, not intending to brag, but simply telling the truth.
"I know," responded Mamoru coolly, terminating their conversation with a dismissive wave of the hand.
"Did he just catch and break the arrow like a toothpick?" Spear gasped and was given silence. The display had temporarily reduced her entourage to utter stillness as their brains tried to register what had just transpired; the Silencer did a seemingly unattainable feat without at much as battering an eyelash.
Bulat pulled out his weapon, his eyebrows narrowed and feet slightly apart. There was no way that an ordinary halberd could be as useful as the Neuntote but he had to make do with what he had.
"Allow me to assist you. Ethics aside, Night Raid and I are working towards the same goal. These servants of the corrupted Empire shall fall!" said Spear, snapping out of her stupor.
In contrast to Spear's resolve, Nuge was fixed in terror. The man's body trembled as he pulled his bow close to his chest, having realized how outclassed he was. "No… he's too strong. My Teigu was completely useless… It's useless!"
"I can't deny that." Bulat gave a low chuckle that contradicted the air of confidence he exerted. As a seasonal warrior and assassin, he managed to keep his nervousness concealed behind a façade of composure. During his time on the battlefield, he had met countless of life-threatening scenarios, though seldom could one intimidate him as much as facing Mamoru. The possibility of death did not faze him in the slightest, but he feared that the whole party would be wiped out.
Left with no time to devise a proper plan, Bulat went with one of the oldest tricks in the book. He dropped his voice low so that it was only audible to his companions. "Hey, you two. Make a run for it while I distract them."
It was on the tip of Spear's tongue to question the feasibility of the plan, though the piercing look that the assassin gave her permitted no argument. On the other hand, Nuge appeared more than ready to bolt so Bulat took action. He twirled his halberd around in both hands, a vicious battle cry erupting from his throat. The weight of the halberd felt strange but that did not prevent his display of exceptional maneuver that could only come from an experienced fighter.
"HAAAYA! I'm Bulat of Night Raid! I urge you to come and try to distinguish the fiery blaze that burns within my soul!"
"A diversion," uttered Mamoru, unfazed by the awe-inspiring aura that radiated from the Man-Slayer.
"This is turning out to be rather amusing," Kurome giggled. A tiny spark of enthusiasm danced in her eyes before they hardened once again to resemble two emotionless pools. She lifted Yatsufusa vertically above her. There was an eerie glow enveloping the steel as its tip accumulated energy, forming an orb of dark matter that discharged purple bolts. All of the sudden, the ground rumbled as if awoken from its slumber as black shadows heaved themselves out from the soil.
Kurome smiled, her lips curled in a fashion that just bordered a grin. She was flanked by her two most dependable puppets, Natala and Doya. Whereas Natala remained expressionless on Kurome's right, the female duel pistols wielder in full cowboys wear exhibited self-assurance. With her jade colored eyes radiating, Kurome could tell that she was waiting eagerly for her orders.
"Now then, let's begin. Let's see how many are going to die today!" the Imperial assassin said, issuing her challenge. A cool breeze swelled and picked up speed, projecting her ominous words to the ears of all those in the vicinity.
Location: In the Waters near the Capital. Time: Afternoon. Year: 1024 (Day 95).
There was an abrupt tug that put him on guard. Wave felt his fingers twitch anxiously as per usual, keen to reel in the line. However, memories of past failures had him abstained, and seemingly endorsed his patience. The sailor knew that this was a test of endurance and to win this tag of war, strength alone would do no good.
With his cobalt-colored boots pressed firmly against the wooden surface of the vessel, he began to turn the reel anticlockwise. Three more rotations were made before he noticed the growing resistance. Immediately, he reversed his action and spun the reel in the opposite direction, thus extending the line again. The line continued to stretch and with a brooding look, he realized that the tension was becoming too great.
His opponent was aggressive. Wave could say that much.
He briefly contemplated on putting a foot on the steel railing and using it as a support, but decided against it. The vessel wasn't his so he would have to pay for the damage. To be frank, he had unintentionally busted enough things on several occasions to try his luck.
As indecisive as he was, he lost his chance when the line snapped off abruptly. He took three rapid steps back and grabbed the end of the broken line. His eyebrow twitched, irritated by the mental image of a stout fish swimming away with the bait.
"Great! Damn fish swam off with the hook too!" he exclaimed, directing a censorious look at the rod in his hand.
Disappointment sank in like stone, with Wave grimly noting that his success rate was nowhere near perfection. Despite being a man of the sea, he wasn't cut out for fishing. He supposed it had to do with his skills being more predominantly focused on power. He lacked the dexterity of a professional fisherman. While patience was something he could work on, dexterity was something completely different. In short, he was more apt in throwing punches if it came to what talent his hands possessed.
With a sigh, his gaze traveled from the rod to the bucket beside him. Half of the bucket was filled with water, and three fish were swimming idly, unaware of the fate that awaited them. Evaluating the size of the larger two, he realized that he would be able to satisfy his stomach. It would've been good enough for him, except he now had another mouth to feed. Still, he might be able to make do with what he had, considering how the subject of his thoughts was still in a coma.
It had been three days since he fished him out and the unconscious stranger showed no signs of rousing. Wave wasn't too surprised by that though, since the stranger was struck down by a terrible fever that only died down yesterday night.
'Guess mom was right about giving me all those medicines as a precaution. I'm not sure what she's gonna say about me using them all at once, but if it's for a good cause like this, then I'm sure she must be proud.'
Coming out of his musings, Wave decided it was time to return and picked up his equipment. As a proud warrior of the sea, he felt at home sauntering on the deck, with the breeze tousling his dark blue hair. With purposeful strides and glittering blue orbs he headed straight for the kitchen and gave the bucket of his priced catch to the cook. The bulky man took it with little acknowledgement before ushering Wave out, exactly as how the past week's procedure had been.
"Alright, I'll be leaving now. The same as usual will do. Thanks again!"
Now left with only the rod in his hand, Wave approached his cabin and with a push, opened the wooden door. He placed his fishing gear beside the doorway before shutting the door behind him with a small back kick.
A plain table was directly in line with his vision. In one corner of the lodge was a cot occupied by a young man with blond hair. A shelve was situated adjacent to the cot, and the man's belonging was scattered across the wooden surface. Wave had inspected everything, from a belt with emptied slots, the cracked bullet vest, a set of earplugs, to the peculiar yo-yo wrapped around a sword with a very unusual design. Yet none of the items revealed the owner's identity, though the sword seemed to strike a chord in his memories. Although he had never seen it before, it looked oddly familiar and reminded him of something else.
'Looks like I'll have to wait until he wakes up to get some answers. From what he was wearing… could he have come from some wealthy family? But why the vest and weapons?'
Wave looked up and took in the garments that hung on the clothesline he had tied across the ceiling. They was left there to dry, since they were soaking wet when he had first brought the stranger inside. The finely designed tuxedo left little doubt that the stranger was no commoner. In fact, Wave was convinced that only aristocracy could afford something like this. The sailor could probably get a lot from selling the clothing, at least enough to feed his family for months.
However, what puzzled Wave was how he didn't find the matching shoes. In fact, the stranger was barefooted and was found with several splinters in his feet. Wave treated and bandaged them, but he was no fool to believe that ordinary noblemen preferred walking around without at least some kind of feet protection.
Then there were also the wounds he had on his body. Did he get himself involved in a terrible struggle? Against pirates maybe? Or was it a storm?
Pulling his eyes away from the stranger who stole his cot, Wave turned his sight on the lone circular window on his left. From here he could see the outside. The water's surface shimmered like silver diamonds, its gentle waves just out of the reach of man.
The Mother Nature was calm today, as it generally was whenever Wave was out on sea. But the sailor wasn't as naïve to think that it would last. He had learned better than to underestimate the destructiveness masked behind the peaceful façade. Previous voyages had ended terribly due to unexpected storms. The water was very susceptible to changes and one torrent of wave could sweep away even the most experienced sailor; Wave's father was one of the many unfortunate souls that the ocean claimed. Thus, Wave tended to feel sympathetic towards any who had experienced the water's wrath. He ought to think that was the reason why he offered his cabin's only cot to the unconscious man. The stranger could have made do with a futon on the ground, but Wave had generously given up his own spot.
A quiet moan pulled his attention away from window and brought his gaze to the young man. Wave waited for him to open his eyes, almost in anticipation. As if on cue, the stranger revealed his dark orbs to the rest of the world. Despite having been unconscious for days, they looked rather hollow, as if he was sleep deprived. His lackluster pools brought a shiver down Wave's spine, for not only were they reflective but they also lacked visible pupils.
Wave had no time to begin a conversation since the stranger chose the exact moment to pull his body up so that he was sitting upright. There was an immediate yelp of pain before the stranger's hand moved to his chest from underneath the blanket, where he was stunned to feel the dressings.
"A-ah... It h-hurts," he groaned, "W-where am I?"
"You're on a watercraft that's heading for the Capital to deliver cargo," the sailor answered despite not being addressed to.
"Who's t-there? W-who are you?" the young stranger stuttered, as if just becoming aware of Wave's presence.
"I'm Wave and I've fought for the Imperial Navy as a true man of the sea!" An introduction was a good start as any, so Wave pumped a fist and gave his name and occupation. With his free hand, he adjusted the red scarf that was around his neck, so that the picture of an anchor was positioned to the front. He expected the stranger to compliment on how fashionable his clothing was. Having consciously picked out his best attire, he was currently donned in a white shirt, a pair of grey jeans tightened with a belt, and a pair of blue boots. On top, he was spotted with a blue leather jacket, one that his mother had bought just for this particular occasion.
"Wave-san… from the I-Imperial Navy?" Lamentably for Wave, the injured man didn't offer any flattering remark about his choice of garments. Instead, he appeared to be struck with a revelation as his body stiffened and words left his lips in a shaky manner.
Wave raised an eyebrow, perplexed. The level of apprehension that radiated from the blonde's body language seemed unjustified. Had Wave meant any harm, then he wouldn't have bothered yanking him out of the water, tended his wounds, and provided the medicine for his terrible fever.
While he was not asking for the debt to be returned, it was disappointing that he was treated with caution instead of appreciation. He gave a disgruntled sigh and muttered, "What are you afraid of? It's not like I'm gonna feed you to the sharks."
His words came out harsher than intended and he was just about to rectify his mistake when the young man spoke in haste.
"Ah! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it… I mean, I… I'm just surprised. You um, sound young… T-thank you so much for saving me," the stranger said, lowering his head in genuine appreciation.
"It's alright. I'm happy to help out," Wave replied, adapting to his usual tone while scratching the tip of his nose awkwardly. "So yeah, I found you dangling on my fishing line. It's been three days since."
"Hmm… ack!" The stranger gripped the side of his head, almost like he was suffering from a headache. It was on the tip of Wave's tongue to ask if he was alright, though the man in question wrinkled his brows and said, "Is that what happened…? Ack, my memories are fuzzy."
"How much do you remember?" Wave asked, concerned.
"I fell off a luxury liner because I…" Something must have clicked inside his brain, for the stranger perked up and there was a hint of desperation latched onto his tone. "Wave-san! Um, do you… do you have my things? The… er, sword in particular. Did I have it when you found me?"
"…Huh? It's over there, along with everything else. And your clothes are hanging above." Wave felt a drop of sweat break out from the side of his head. With slouching shoulders, he pointed to the items in question. To state that he felt stupid was an understatement. Anyone with eyes could clearly see what was in front of them, unless of course…
Realization dawn on him and he clicked his fingers. "Wait, don't tell me… you can't see?"
The young man let out a small exasperated chuckle. "Yeah… this tends to happen from time to time. It's not really a big issue, especially since I'm safe in your hands. Of course, I'm in your debt. Thank you. I guess my frantic effort to secure it paid off. Phew! What a relief."
While puzzled as to the reasons behind the young man's temporary blindness and his lack of distress, Wave found it more pressing that the young man hadn't introduce himself yet. "Well, it's great that you're happy and all, but who exactly are you? I don't have your name."
"Oh, man! It slipped my mind." The young man's boyish countenance resurfaced and his features were lit with affability. "The name is… Yukio. You can call me Yukio."
There was a sense of reluctance when the blond introduced himself but Wave dismissed it, believing the cause to be out of shyness. The young man was definitely gracious, though there was no denying that he was also timid. "Alright, Yukio. So you mind telling me something that's been in my head for a while. Are you a big shot from some noble family?"
There was transitory flash of tentativeness on Yukio's visage that didn't go unnoticed by Wave, though it was quickly masked with a jovial grin. "Strictly speaking, I'm a descendent of a prestige lineage… but that doesn't make much difference now."
'That's a weird way of saying it. Why wouldn't it matter anymore? This is his family he's talking about.' Wave crocked an eyebrow, a sure indication that he needed elaboration. However, he recalled that Yukio couldn't see his gesture so he asked, "…Why is that?"
"Call it bad family blood."
"…Sorry, I didn't mean to unpick your scabs."
"Oh… No, no," Yukio shook his head once, "Don't worry about it. It's fine now."
"You're optimistic. Does that mean you've solved the problem?" Despite knowing that it was a sensitive topic, Wave was mildly curious by the young man's outlook. Praying that his words wouldn't come out as downright intrusive, he indulged his inquisitiveness with the question.
"Solve is not, um, the word I would use. But I suppose I've accepted the reality of the situation. It's not like I'm alone or anything. I have a… new family now."
The last part of his sentence seemed to drag out, as if Yukio was trying to convince himself rather than Wave. While the sailor was no expert at interpreting cryptic messages, he did get an impression that the young man was wary with the term family. He wanted to delve deeper but couldn't bring himself to intrude further. "Ah, I see. That's great. I'm happy for you."
"Thank you… And while we're on topic, I suppose I would need to get back soon as possible. To tell you the truth, I-I have a promise—a deal—that I need to get done. Wave-san… you did mention that this boat is going to the Capital, correct?"
"Yeah, but there'll be a detour. Most of the cargos on this vessel are preordered marine assortments. They're trying to get those delivered to the customers living in the Capital as soon as possible. For the obvious reasons."
"Oh."
"You can stay here for the time being…" Wave offered, leaving out the last part of the sentence. '…Besides, it's not like you can go anywhere else right now.'
"…Thank you so much, Wave-san! I'll try my hardest to behave during the rest of my stay. I won't cause you anymore trouble. But if I do, then you can… um, I guess throw me out." Energized, Yukio attempted a half-hearted joke and accepted the suggestion without qualms.
'He's quite cooperative,' thought Wave. On the whole, noblemen were a lot more finicky. Most wouldn't have tolerated sharing a room with someone of the lower class. At that thought, Wave couldn't help but chuckled. "No promises. It'll all depend on your behavior and my mood."
"I'll be good," Yukio nodded and both of them laughed.
Once the mirth died down, Yukio spoke. "Um, I'm just wondering… I'm not trying to pry but Wave-san, why are you here? I mean, why would someone from the Imperial Navy travel on a cargo ship?"
"It's a cheap ride to the Capital. I've been asked to join the Special Forces."
"Special Forces?"
"Basically, it's a promotion." At that, Wave couldn't repress the urge to straighten up and puff out his chest. "I heard that seven people are chosen from different places to form a single group. Apparently, it's going to be independent from the Empire and any direct orders will be given by the captain."
"Who's the captain?" asked Yukio, intrigued by what Wave was telling him.
"I haven't met her yet but she's quite famous. Even around the rural parts like where I'm from. She's one of the generals of The Four. Her name is—"
"Esdeath...?" Yukio gave a small whimper that sounded like he was suppressing the urge to cry. 'Please no… not her. Anyone but her! Come on fate! Please show me something that I can work with here.'
"Yep, that's my new captain." Wave hummed in response. To his confusion, Yukio's face paled and he gulped, seemingly giving an impression of one who had charged onto a ship full of deadly pirates.
Location: Southern Regions outside of the Capital. Time: Afternoon. Year: 1024 (Day 95).
Kurome could feel a gust of air as the enormous halberd narrowly missed her head and instead took a strand of her raven hair. A crafty smile descended on her lips. Her heart was pounding erratically, a sensation she hadn't felt in the longest of time. If she even let her guard down for a second, then it was certain that the halberd would cleave right through her.
'I should expect no less from one of sis' comrades.' Her opponent was relentless with his attacks, never faltering once despite the critical wounds he had already sustained. Never before had Kurome seen such expert spear-handling; not even Natala could come close to the assassin's level. Every strike aimed to kill her.
There was a flurry of movement as Bulat lunged, coming in hard with the halberd. Kurome countered with Yatsufusa, feeling the steel scraped down her own blade. Bulat continued, full of killing intent and vigor. Adapting into a comfortable stance and heeding to instinct, Kurome twisted her wrist suddenly and out maneuvered the Man-Slayer, guiding the halberd off course. Dark eyes glistened at the opportunity and Kurome pushed forward, only to find her opponent dodge with expedition.
Clicking her tongue in exasperation at the ineffective thrust that merely scratched Bulat's leg, Kurome backed off and maintained her distance. She was imprudent; it had been ages since she last dealt with an enemy directly. Usually, she would dispatch her puppets and wait for openings. But emotions had stimulated her. She was given a chance to grasp how formidable one of her sister's comrades was. From what she had seen so far, she had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that he was very powerful.
"Storm Bluster."
Kurome noticed Mamoru making a move from her peripheral vision. The general made a single motion with his arm, like he was practicing a backswing with a racquet. A burst of air current erupted from nowhere and hurled Bulat into a nearby tree. The shockwave scarred the grounds and the entire trunk was ripped from its base as the man crashed through it, demolishing the plantation behind him.
Kurome stared, amazed by the destruction. In just a few seconds, the forest before her was flattened, with wrecked branches and trees littering the ground. Bulat was thrown several feet away, having suffered from being tossed into a line of trees before stopping at the base of a stout trunk. His head hang low and his eyes were closed, but Kurome felt no sense of accomplishment and immediately scanned the surrounding.
Natala and Doya were no longer in sight, having gone to pursue the two foes that had disgracefully fled with their tails in between their legs. They had scampered away in a hurry, and were now out of Mamoru's attack range. However, Kurome wasn't bothered. Her puppets were on their trail; their fortified link with Yatsufusa told her that they were still intact and were doing their job.
Splooosh!
The swamp behind Kurome suddenly ruptured, spraying mud and water all over her. Aided by reflex more than sight, she jumped away from a flash of pink. It shot forth like laser, just missing her before smashing into the ground. A few stray pebbles rammed into Kurome's back. She staggered a little, taken aback. Whirling around, she finally caught the massive form of her attacker. It was a giant, frog-like creature with green skin. Red spots scattered across its rough surface, and water slicked to it like a second layer.
"Why now?" Kurome stared at the yellow eyes that bulged out like lanterns. The muscles on the creature's face twitched as it opened its mouth.
Her eyes narrowed, intending to cut off the tongue as soon as it lashes out.
She tensed.
And the Danger Beast belched.
"W-what!?"
The awful scent of decaying matter hit Kurome at full force and she could feel a warm putrid substance forcing its way out of her throat. The odor was so malodorous that even a well-trained assassin like her couldn't resist the urge to gag. Placing a hand on her mouth, she swallowed the sickness back down, obviously too willful to submit to the smell.
"Kaiser Frog… It has a strong stomach acid." Sparing a glance at the giant frog that eyed Kurome like prey, Mamoru gave a brisk warning to his former student, who looked like she was going to lose her lunch.
"You mean to tell me that the stomach acid is the source of this off-putting stench?" There was a hint of exasperation in Kurome's voice as she swatted the air with her katana.
"Don't forget its corroded substances," Mamoru added, his facial expression lacking as per usual. Unlike Kurome, the Silencer's attire was relatively dry, with only just perceivable traces of mud stains on his dark clothing. There were pebbles and splinters hovering around him, but none of them came close to touching him. Once again, the winds shielded him and warded off any impending danger.
"How informative," Kurome noted sarcastically, "I may want it in my collection."
"Do as you wish." Mamoru's voice was monotone, but there was a slight fluctuation at the end. His eyes narrowing and concentrating on his foe, he sent the volley of rocks and pebbles back with a flick of the index finger. The projectiles hurtled towards the beast like ninja shuriken and a questioning eyebrow rose above his hairline when they did nothing more than scratch the skin. 'It's more durable than it looks.'
Kaiser Frog spat out its sticky tongue and flicked it in a horizontal arc like a whip. Mamoru took to the sky, escaping effortlessness while the appendage careened after Kurome. The young Imperial assassin stole a glimpse at her former teacher and once again felt like rolling her eyes. Teamwork was definitely not in general's vocabulary. That aside, it was not like she was going to depend on him anyways.
Kurome dodged in a chain of bizarre movements. Everything about her was expeditious; her steps transiently touched the ground and her body danced with the grace of a black swan. But the appendage was unrelenting. The tongue matched her dexterity, abruptly altering its course to trail her. There were instances when she felt the fleeting touch of saliva. Her senses tingling and her heart soaring into her throat, she wasted no time in calling forth Apeman, a puppet from her prized collection.
The hairy gorilla leapt forward from its crouched position, and its fist ripped through Kaiser Frog's side. Utilizing the break for a quick snack, Kurome watched as Apeman launched into a ferocious barrage of punches. Every muscle in the puppet rippled and laid emphasis on its power. Drawing an arm back, Apeman landed an uppercut on its opponent's vocal sac. Kaiser Frog croaked and was propelled into the air by the force.
Living up to the expectation of an elite assassin, Mamoru didn't allow this chance to slip away. He thrust both hands out, with his palms facing outwards and adjacent to each other. He fisted both hands together, having locked onto his target.
"Storm Impetus!"
The side of Kaiser Frog denoted in two miniature explosions. Not giving the beast any opportunity, Mamoru altered his stance and slammed his fists together. Another blast came into contact. As impacting as it was sent flying, Kaiser Frog descended with equivalent momentum, crashing into the ground with a tremendous thud.
"End it," instructed Mamoru as he landed.
"Roger!" Kurome didn't need to be told twice. Charging straight into the clouds of dust, she went straight for the throat. A crimson spray followed Yatsufusa's path and her arms were dotted with blood. That did little to deter her though. She made quick work with the beast, ending it with one last strike in the heart.
Yatsufusa hummed in ecstasy, pleased by the blood coating its steel. But before Kurome could pull the blade out, a small but annoyed murmur from Mamoru drew her attention away.
"He's gone."
She whirled around and saw tree trunks scattered everywhere, but the place where the assassin was minutes ago was empty. Hair rose from the back of Kurome's neck as she examined the area around her. She tightened her grip on Yatsufusa defensively. Her eyes darted around and she didn't relax until she was certain that no one else was around.
"He's gone." Whether he meant it as a reassurance or a statement of displeasure was unknown, but Mamoru repeated himself.
"That was fast," Kurome clicked her tongue. "He regained consciousness... and must've left when we were distracted."
"Call your puppets back." It appeared that the Silencer was already done with the topic. Leaving Kurome with a simple command, he walked over to the carriage. Only one stallion remained behind, with the other taken by the rebels. Stroking the mare in a rare display of benignity, he turned to the opened carriage and noticed that a familiar axe-like Teigu was resting against a corner. Recognizing it to be Belvaac, he came to the conclusion that it was too heavy to be hand-carried, which was why it was left behind.
Mamoru gave the carriage a closer inspection. Convinced it was safe to use, he turned to Kurome. "Get inside."
"No. We have to give chase." Kurome's voice strained as she tried to dislodge her Teigu. Having no luck, she heaved a frustrated sigh and relented. There was a vacant spot in her collection, so she supposed it wouldn't hurt. With that thought, she activated Yatsufusa's ability. The katana vibrated and emanated an eerie glow, enveloping the carcass within violet light. When the illumination died down, the corpse was no more and Kurome returned her blade to its sheath.
"They are out of range by now," said Mamoru.
"Natala and Doya can handle them."
"You'll waste away," retorted Mamoru. The Silencer had heard enough about Yatsufusa to know that it would place its owner in duress whenever it activated its abilities. The undead required Kurome's energy to stay mobile and the amount would vary based on several factors, with distance being one of them.
"Wow, I didn't know you care," Kurome said acerbically, lifting an eyebrow. "After all, you hardly cared when sis left the Empire. I know you could've easily caught up to her, but you didn't."
"That's different." Her comment seemed to have hit a nerve, for Mamoru's voice was unpleasantly cold. There was an odd but fiery look in his eyes as he treaded quickly towards Kurome. In one swift motion, he lifted her off her feet and more or less slung her onto his shoulder. With that, he made his way towards the carriage.
"What are you doing? Let me go! I never said I won't come!" Being carried around like a sack of potatoes was definitely the last thing Kurome had in mind. The Imperial assassin squirmed at the unwarranted treatment but Mamoru didn't let her go. In fact, she could've sworn he had tightened his grip when she tried punching his back, as if daring her to put up further resistance.
From an outsider's perspective, it almost appeared to be an aberrant display of affection, if not for Mamoru's emotionless features and the anything-but-careful manner in which he handled her. As if eager to remove the weight, the indifferent general dumped Kurome onto the mattress inside the carriage.
It was apparent that his patience was running quite thin so Kurome wisely swallowed down her protests, at least for now. She gave her backside a massage, and then called back Natala and Doya with a mental command.
Leaving the carriage door opened, Mamoru pushed onto the ground with his toes and swung his right leg over, mounting the horse effortlessly. He grabbed onto the reins and urged the mount into a gait, encouraging it to head for the Capital.
However, both Mamoru and Kurome overlooked something.
Not long after the two assassins left the vicinity, a strong gale tore through the remainder of the forest. It ripped through the green scenery like an invisible and colossal blade, leaving behind what could best be described as complete annihilation.
Night Raid Members Remaining: 8
Mission: Deliver four Teigu to the Revolutionary Army Headquarters
Participating Member: Bulat
Result: Failed
Rewards: None
Now, this section is dedicated to recapitulating the relevant plot events. Here are some things that can be reviewed over or considered for this chapter:
- The song that Kurome hums in the beginning is Red Love, the one that is quoted at the start of the chapter.
- It is mentioned in chapter 9 that Mamoru once had a female apprentice skilled in swordplay. That person is none other than Kurome. Congratulations to all the readers who made the correct guess.
- While Akame tries to remember everything about the deceased, Mamoru tries to wipe their existence from his memory.
-The reason why Bulat managed to escape alive is because he is no longer a Teigu user. Hence, he is not bound by the rule of a certain death in a battle between Imperial Arms users. As for Nuge, he survives solely because he fled upon Bulat's suggestion, having realized that he is no match for Kurome or Mamoru. As such, he didn't exert killing intent, which allowed him to elude a Teigu battle (which started after Kurome pulled out Yatsufusa).
Preview- Kill Esdeath's New Group II: with the loss of the Three Beasts, Esdeath takes the matter with Night Raid personally and decides to assemble a new team specifically meant to take down the assassin group.