Bloody Rain
She crouched low to the shingled rooftop, awaiting any signal of his presence. Her sources had told her that he usually strolled past here, at midnight. The moon lay hidden behind a dark and terrifying expanse of clouds, but she was grateful. The cold wind too, had kept her alert.
Soft ,steady footfalls in the dirt caught her attention and she peered below at the flame haired teenager making his way in the shadows of the buildings. He was not much older than she, nor was he anything like his name. Who would've thought the Battousai could look almost as frail as she? But Kaoru knew better than to judge appearances, from her own experience. Their eyes gave them away for what they were.
He had gotten close enough now. Her heart grew tight, and the anger she felt against him steeled her limbs and forced her into action. She would avenge those she lost, and the others whose lives he took.
She blew the poisoned senbon, at his vital areas, early triumph easing her into relaxing. Her eyes widened with a brief moment of fear, as with his god-like reflexes, he drew his katana and deflected them all.
His amber orbs cast their demonic light in her direction. He crouched low, in wait for her attack.
She unsheathed her katana, and calmly inhaled, before matching the intensity of his stare. This was the Battousai, the feared Hitokiri of Kyoto, and she was going to be the one to dispose of his senseless killings. He needed to be stopped.
"Big brother, little brother, this is for you. May his blood bring forth flowers on your graves."
With the speed of lightning, she leapt off of the rooftop and into the cold air, at the Battousai.
His eyes grew wide with recognition as he awaited her. She was going to use Ryu Tsui sen.
Time seemed to freeze as he saw her duplicate the attack so familiar to him. She knew the Hiten Mitsurugi style. It was no surprise then, how she could be compared to him. But she knew….
His body crouched low, he gripped the hilt of the katana tighter with steady palms, the façade of a sinister smile playing upon his lips, despite the fissure in his confidence.
He refused to be daunted by the frail woman, whose sword was finally drawing near, in what seemed like slow motion. His body tensed and he drew his own katana to meet hers.
"Let the bloody rain fall."