Small Memory

Kiku perched on the top of the roof. He had daggers latched on to his sides. He had grown used to going unnoticed, slipping into the town, climbing up and down buildings, and eventually disappearing altogether.

He waited.

He waited for an hour. Night grew steadily darker. Stars collected in the clear sky. Kiku was tense. Yao had emphasized the importance of this target. He knew this woman would be carrying vital messages.

While he waited, staring at the entrance of the okiya he had once known and had been fond off, he reviewed the information Yao had told him. Yao didn't allow him to write it down. He told him to memorize it. Paper could be stolen, the mind couldn't.

The woman was relatively young. Kiku knew how she looked. He knew where she would be. He knew she was a threat. She was living with Kenta, his once-friend, and was, like a leech, sucking information out of him. Frustrated, Kiku curled his fingers around the hilt of one of his knives. Wouldn't she just appear so he could get it over with?

He had no intention of fighting the woman, named Yuriko. She was a threat. Like an insect, all he had to do was step on her and smother the life out of her lungs. It was simple, really. Sometimes he enjoyed seeing the blood flow. Sometimes he was pained to watch the victim die. He tried not to think too much about it. He had to do what he had to do. He had a people to protect.

Then again, there was that message he had seen in the storage closet. It looked like it wanted to be seen. It stuck out of the armor, begging for him to take a look. Kiku should have had enough discipline to ignore it. He didn't. Like a fool he had rifled through its contents. Now, he was being punished. The words he understood plagued his mind. He knew it couldn't have been so bad.

Kiku licked his lips, pulling the mask over his face. The shadows in the windows moved. Yuriko would now escape with a new bit of information. She would be his victim. It would be quick. He had lost the vigor for gore lately. When he sparred with Xiao he sought after the simplest and most efficient target. He no longer made elaborate motions of beheading or slicing the groin.

Why should he waste his time?

Kiku's hardened features pinned on the door. It slid open and a woman in a dark blue kimono walked out. Her hair was done simply and she wore no make-up. She moved calmly, her hands before her. Kiku leapt off the building with surprisingly little pain. He rolled into a crouch and sprung into a sprint. He slid through the shadows, watching where she would go.

He stopped a good distance from the okiya and waited.

However, he had a feeling that she was familiar, somehow.

It probably meant nothing.

She approached him in the shadows, her angular face forwards. She had no fear. She had suffered enough.

Don't just kill her, maim her.

Kiku felt as if his heart stopped from fear. Was he finally going crazy? Who had spoken in his mind? The voice was not his. It was… otherworldly. He couldn't describe it and chose to ignore it. He swallowed hard, posing. She drew closer, her sandals clicking against the stones of the ground.

Finally she was a few inches from him. Her eyes widened when she saw the red poke through the darkness. Kiku lunged forwards and attacked her. She tumbled to the ground. He grabbed her by the throat with one hand. With the other he pointed the knife towards her heart. She scratched at his fist, gasping for breath.

He moved closer to her face. Her eyes widened in recognition. Where had Kiku seen her before?

Slice her kimono open and dig through her ribs.

"Where is the message?" he asked softly.

"What message?" She choked out.

Even her voice was familiar. Kiku squeezed hard. Then he loosened his grip so she could speak.

"I don't have a message!" She cried.

Kiku cut through her kimono, expecting to hit the soft fat of her breast. He didn't. He hit bone. Kiku dismissed this and drew blood. He saw the red stain her dress. Tears slid down her cheeks. "I don't have a message." She pleaded. "I don't."

"You're stubborn. I can admire that." Kiku said.

In the eyes—make her suffer.

"Be quiet." Kiku said aloud.

Yuriko struggled under him, raising her legs in a vain attempt at kicking him off. Kiku pushed hard down on her, pressing her knees to her chest. She yelped, scratching at his arms. Kiku grabbed her hands and, against all his instruction, stabbed her palms, one over the other, into the ground. The pain glazed over her face. She barely screamed, allowing only a small whimper to escape her throat. Tears continued to trickle.

"I still have to kill you." Kiku said, letting go of her and taking his other dagger. He had left his katana back at home.

Home: this new place was home?

"Kiku..." Yuriko muttered in one final attempt. Her voice was groggy with agony.

Kiku paused.

"You return from the dead to protect, and now you kill the people of this village?" She muttered.

"How do you know my name?" Kiku spat. His mind was running far too quickly. He didn't feel like himself. He felt as if a different, beastly entity had taken control of his mind.

"I knew you so long ago." She whispered, closing her eyes. Blood was draining quickly through her hands. Kiku still held the blade to her neck. "We were friends."

"I was not friends with a traitor like you."

"A traitor…? No, you know me. Kiku, listen to my voice, look at my eyes. I've changed, but you must recognize me?" her face paled with the effort. She must have hoped for life, but dismissed it. Anything was better than the pain swelling in her hands.

Kiku stared. His eyes widened in recognition.

"Eiji?" he asked.

Yuriko gave him a brief smile.

Kiku's world spun around him. He didn't know who to trust or who to believe. He felt as if his mind had exploded. He stood weakly over Yuriko, once Eiji, and faltered in speech. He should have known this was coming. He should have seen it all. He thought nothing less of Eiji, but now she was dying. Now she wanted to die.

"Finish the job." She demanded weakly. "Please."

Kiku raised the dagger and brought it down. Her neck snapped and her eyes were drained of life. Kiku began to weep. He stood over her, placing his bloodied hands to his face, and he cried.

The world felt like it was ending.

And he hoped it was.