The cold air kissed Chiyoko's face and the moonlight above illuminated her path, a blessing from the kami themselves. Her breathing was slow, careful. Her steps deliberate and silent. Her gaze sweeping from side to side, scrutinizing every crack and nook as she passed. Her hand remained on one of her swords with a white-knuckled grip.
It was absolutely terrifying how many cats lived in Edo. How many pairs of eerie eyes stared daggers towards her from the shadows. Chiyoko never wanted to pay them mind - for cats wandering at night were often death omens, signalling a speedy demise for whoever locked eyes with them. But now, she was carefully watching for every single one. Looking for the barest hint of uncharacteristic intelligence.
Her heartbeat seemed impossibly loud. She swore it could echo through the street, that her own fear would reveal herself. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how her own targets had felt. Maybe this was karmic justice, the deeds she had done finally returning full-circle. For she was now the prey, the Hound hunted by the Kitten, sent by the Oyabun to punish Chiyoko's betrayal.
Her destination was a small, familiar shrine. There, she could find temporary sanctuary, and maybe have her swords purified by the Shrine Maiden. A blessed weapon was said to kill or maim yokai, after all, yet Chiyoko loathed the idea of testing it. She'd fought with and against Yokai before. For many, she was hardly a match.
In the distance, a dangerous yowling broke through the quiet night, warning Chiyoko to keep on the move. If the assassin was indeed following her, then they were doing a good job keeping well out of sight, as there was no sign of where the yowling might have came from. Somehow, it seemed to come from all directions at once and none at all. Illusions of a blue eyeshine seemed to follow her, though never for a moment at a time. Perhaps it was only a trick of mind, the dim moonlight making it only seem like the eyes were following her.
All hopes that she had gone unnoticed were now dashed. Chiyoko's gaze swept from side to side, lit by fear. She wasn't too far from the shrine. Yet, she could feel a pressure. The intangible feeling that trickles down your back. A predatory gaze sizing her up for a kill. She hoped she was just being paranoid.
She cast a last glance over her shoulder as her hand found the familiar gate. Seeing nothing, she quickly inched it open, slipping inside the shrine's grounds. Her speed increased and she jogged across the paved road, heading straight for a small, brightly-painted building, expecting an arrow or dagger or any matter of weapon or mechanism to end her life... yet, as she slipped inside and closed the heavy door behind her, she found nothing of the sort. To her dismay, however, several candles were unlit - most had burned through their wicks. This shrine's keeper wasn't here.
The air lacked the sickly sweet smell of incense burning, an oddity for a shrine. What was even odder was perhaps the scent that replaced it. Heavy, choking, acrid, lingering tobacco smoke choked out anything and everything else, leaving only itself. It was also quiet, at least for the moment after Chiyoko entered the shrine. The temporary serenity was shattered soon after however by the jarring sound of something tapping against metal.
The sound revealed that she was not alone in the shrine. A blonde haired woman sat leaned back against a wall, her finger tapping against the bowl of her tobacco pipe in an attempt to expel the ash. "Ah, you're finally here," she said, looking up to Chiyoko. The dim light in the shrine gave her eyes an eerie reflective shine, and she continued to speak. "You certainly decided to take your time, didn't you?" she said, sticking the pipe into a corner of her mouth and taking a drag.
"Fortunately for you, I'm a patient one."
Chiyoko gave a sharp intake of breath, inhaling some of the acrid fumes. The smell lingered in her nose, her throat. A familiar smell, one she had gotten more than used to as a child. Her gaze snapped towards the woman’s, though wasn't it supposed to be a death omen, to lock eyes with a cat?
“Well… being marked for death makes one a bit careful. Want to take their time, you know?” Chiyoko replied, “I'm sure you of all people know, the faster someone runs, the easier they are to follow.”
“Though I don’t think that would've mattered. You already knew where I was going.” Slow, surprisingly steady hands found one of Chiyoko’s swords. A metallic ring echoed through the thick walls as she drew the short blade, the subtle carvings upon it’s length seeming to glimmer with the pale light.
"Hm, fair enough," the woman agreed, "though most would have tried to escape the city rather than seek shelter in a temple." If the woman was at all perturbed by the sword now undoubtedly meant for her, she didn't show it at all. She merely paused for a moment and looked the instrument up and down before inhaling another drag, this time sending the resulting plume of smoke toward Chiyoko's direction. "You know, if I truly wished you dead, then I wouldn't have waited for you to draw your blade."
“And most would do the job they were told to do.” Chiyo retorted defensively. She gave a small flick, making a brief attempt to disperse the oncoming smoke. At the woman’s second statement, Chiyoko lowered her hands, the tip of her weapon barely skirting the ground. “Then why did you wait? I don’t think it’s because you just suddenly became a bleeding heart.”
A drawn out exaggerated sigh escaped from the woman's lips and her shoulders seemed to droop. "Not so much a bleeding heart as someone who does not wish to waste the effort for such a foolish reason." She readjusted her legs on the floor, but otherwise made no move to stand or assume a readied stance. "At this point in time I would undoubtedly have to fight you, of which I may or may not win. And if I did win, I would then have to dispose of the body somehow. Not to mention the resulting blood I would then have to clean out of my clothes and hair, which is a terribly difficult thing to do. So... You can understand my reluctance."
She sighed again and leaned back against the wall. "You've been in my position before. Hunting down the defectors who had betrayed their family. Tell me, do you have any regrets? Any thing you wished you would've done differently? Someone you wished you didn't put to the sword?" She asked, curiously watching Chiyoko.
Chiyoko gave a second, more thorough look at the woman, tilting her head somewhat. Her stance lowered, and for the moment, she seemed to calm. However her sword remained in a careful grip as she replied, giving a faint sigh, “It's a common thing for people, to wish that this or that had been done differently.”
“Back then, no. I might have doubted, but I did not regret. As you said… they were traitors.” Chiyoko carefully spoke, “Many of our loyalties were questioned. I wanted, no - needed - to prove mine. I was afraid of being branded a traitor myself, accused of not being loyal enough to do what needed to be done.”
“It did help that more than a few were degenerates. Some had stolen, some had killed their kin over petty squabbles, or other similar crimes. They were types I’d have no issue hunting even under normal circumstances. Made it much easier to justify.” She said dryly. “The others? They - they were the true Yakuza in all but name. They saw where it went wrong. They were my true family, and when they left, I didn't follow out of fear. And because of that fear, they died.”
There was a small pause, “Is that the answer you were looking for, Miu?” Chiyoko asked.
"Mm," Miu hummed, though if she was pleased or displeased with the answer it did not show on her face. "Now, do you believe they are still traitors, such as yourself. The ones who looked at themselves in the mirror and did not like what they saw. Or do you run now because you were forced to? If you had the choice, would you still remain, and continue to hunt down others like you?" With that, the woman finally rose to her feet and brushed the dust off of her clothes.
She stared at Chiyoko for a moment before she continued. "Just... Understand. The word traitor isn't so clear cut, the world we live in isn't painted in black and whites. To them, we were probably the traitors, and who's to say they weren't right?" She took the pipe out of her mouth and tapped it, ashes fluttering from the steel bowl. "Like I said, if I wanted to kill you, I would've tried it by now instead of lecturing you. But," she added with a single slender finger. "A word of warning. Leave. Quickly. Lay low and do not show your face. Next time, we'll not have this chat. I doubt you'll even see me."
With that, the woman turned to leave, but she paused mid-step. She turned back and tilted her head to the side, her pipe raising in between her lips. "For future references, an ordinary blade hurts just as much as a blessed one. A sword to the throat is a sword to the throat, no matter who's throat. Blessing or no, not much is getting up from that." That was it, Miu turned and left, leaving nothing behind but the scent of tobacco and ashes.
Chiyoko gave the exit a lingering look, sheathing her wakizashi with a metallic trill. She couldn't help but wonder what Yōichirō would be told... Miu didn't seem the sort to lie, especially not to him. She also didn't seem one for mercy, yet Chiyoko was still alive. Seemingly berated and lectured, but alive.
But would she have remained? In her current mindset, knowing what she did now, would she have stayed with the Yakuza if she could, in a universe where her uncle had not died? Of course, it was a foolish question. She would just find a way to rationalize it all again. It's what she did before.
She left the shrine a few minutes later, making a mental note to no longer trust even close friends within the Yakuza. If they had told Miu where she was going once, it would happen again. Not many are given a second chance at life. Even fewer are given a third.
It was absolutely terrifying how many cats lived in Edo. How many pairs of eerie eyes stared daggers towards her from the shadows. Chiyoko never wanted to pay them mind - for cats wandering at night were often death omens, signalling a speedy demise for whoever locked eyes with them. But now, she was carefully watching for every single one. Looking for the barest hint of uncharacteristic intelligence.
Her heartbeat seemed impossibly loud. She swore it could echo through the street, that her own fear would reveal herself. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how her own targets had felt. Maybe this was karmic justice, the deeds she had done finally returning full-circle. For she was now the prey, the Hound hunted by the Kitten, sent by the Oyabun to punish Chiyoko's betrayal.
Her destination was a small, familiar shrine. There, she could find temporary sanctuary, and maybe have her swords purified by the Shrine Maiden. A blessed weapon was said to kill or maim yokai, after all, yet Chiyoko loathed the idea of testing it. She'd fought with and against Yokai before. For many, she was hardly a match.
In the distance, a dangerous yowling broke through the quiet night, warning Chiyoko to keep on the move. If the assassin was indeed following her, then they were doing a good job keeping well out of sight, as there was no sign of where the yowling might have came from. Somehow, it seemed to come from all directions at once and none at all. Illusions of a blue eyeshine seemed to follow her, though never for a moment at a time. Perhaps it was only a trick of mind, the dim moonlight making it only seem like the eyes were following her.
All hopes that she had gone unnoticed were now dashed. Chiyoko's gaze swept from side to side, lit by fear. She wasn't too far from the shrine. Yet, she could feel a pressure. The intangible feeling that trickles down your back. A predatory gaze sizing her up for a kill. She hoped she was just being paranoid.
She cast a last glance over her shoulder as her hand found the familiar gate. Seeing nothing, she quickly inched it open, slipping inside the shrine's grounds. Her speed increased and she jogged across the paved road, heading straight for a small, brightly-painted building, expecting an arrow or dagger or any matter of weapon or mechanism to end her life... yet, as she slipped inside and closed the heavy door behind her, she found nothing of the sort. To her dismay, however, several candles were unlit - most had burned through their wicks. This shrine's keeper wasn't here.
The air lacked the sickly sweet smell of incense burning, an oddity for a shrine. What was even odder was perhaps the scent that replaced it. Heavy, choking, acrid, lingering tobacco smoke choked out anything and everything else, leaving only itself. It was also quiet, at least for the moment after Chiyoko entered the shrine. The temporary serenity was shattered soon after however by the jarring sound of something tapping against metal.
The sound revealed that she was not alone in the shrine. A blonde haired woman sat leaned back against a wall, her finger tapping against the bowl of her tobacco pipe in an attempt to expel the ash. "Ah, you're finally here," she said, looking up to Chiyoko. The dim light in the shrine gave her eyes an eerie reflective shine, and she continued to speak. "You certainly decided to take your time, didn't you?" she said, sticking the pipe into a corner of her mouth and taking a drag.
"Fortunately for you, I'm a patient one."
Chiyoko gave a sharp intake of breath, inhaling some of the acrid fumes. The smell lingered in her nose, her throat. A familiar smell, one she had gotten more than used to as a child. Her gaze snapped towards the woman’s, though wasn't it supposed to be a death omen, to lock eyes with a cat?
“Well… being marked for death makes one a bit careful. Want to take their time, you know?” Chiyoko replied, “I'm sure you of all people know, the faster someone runs, the easier they are to follow.”
“Though I don’t think that would've mattered. You already knew where I was going.” Slow, surprisingly steady hands found one of Chiyoko’s swords. A metallic ring echoed through the thick walls as she drew the short blade, the subtle carvings upon it’s length seeming to glimmer with the pale light.
"Hm, fair enough," the woman agreed, "though most would have tried to escape the city rather than seek shelter in a temple." If the woman was at all perturbed by the sword now undoubtedly meant for her, she didn't show it at all. She merely paused for a moment and looked the instrument up and down before inhaling another drag, this time sending the resulting plume of smoke toward Chiyoko's direction. "You know, if I truly wished you dead, then I wouldn't have waited for you to draw your blade."
“And most would do the job they were told to do.” Chiyo retorted defensively. She gave a small flick, making a brief attempt to disperse the oncoming smoke. At the woman’s second statement, Chiyoko lowered her hands, the tip of her weapon barely skirting the ground. “Then why did you wait? I don’t think it’s because you just suddenly became a bleeding heart.”
A drawn out exaggerated sigh escaped from the woman's lips and her shoulders seemed to droop. "Not so much a bleeding heart as someone who does not wish to waste the effort for such a foolish reason." She readjusted her legs on the floor, but otherwise made no move to stand or assume a readied stance. "At this point in time I would undoubtedly have to fight you, of which I may or may not win. And if I did win, I would then have to dispose of the body somehow. Not to mention the resulting blood I would then have to clean out of my clothes and hair, which is a terribly difficult thing to do. So... You can understand my reluctance."
She sighed again and leaned back against the wall. "You've been in my position before. Hunting down the defectors who had betrayed their family. Tell me, do you have any regrets? Any thing you wished you would've done differently? Someone you wished you didn't put to the sword?" She asked, curiously watching Chiyoko.
Chiyoko gave a second, more thorough look at the woman, tilting her head somewhat. Her stance lowered, and for the moment, she seemed to calm. However her sword remained in a careful grip as she replied, giving a faint sigh, “It's a common thing for people, to wish that this or that had been done differently.”
“Back then, no. I might have doubted, but I did not regret. As you said… they were traitors.” Chiyoko carefully spoke, “Many of our loyalties were questioned. I wanted, no - needed - to prove mine. I was afraid of being branded a traitor myself, accused of not being loyal enough to do what needed to be done.”
“It did help that more than a few were degenerates. Some had stolen, some had killed their kin over petty squabbles, or other similar crimes. They were types I’d have no issue hunting even under normal circumstances. Made it much easier to justify.” She said dryly. “The others? They - they were the true Yakuza in all but name. They saw where it went wrong. They were my true family, and when they left, I didn't follow out of fear. And because of that fear, they died.”
There was a small pause, “Is that the answer you were looking for, Miu?” Chiyoko asked.
"Mm," Miu hummed, though if she was pleased or displeased with the answer it did not show on her face. "Now, do you believe they are still traitors, such as yourself. The ones who looked at themselves in the mirror and did not like what they saw. Or do you run now because you were forced to? If you had the choice, would you still remain, and continue to hunt down others like you?" With that, the woman finally rose to her feet and brushed the dust off of her clothes.
She stared at Chiyoko for a moment before she continued. "Just... Understand. The word traitor isn't so clear cut, the world we live in isn't painted in black and whites. To them, we were probably the traitors, and who's to say they weren't right?" She took the pipe out of her mouth and tapped it, ashes fluttering from the steel bowl. "Like I said, if I wanted to kill you, I would've tried it by now instead of lecturing you. But," she added with a single slender finger. "A word of warning. Leave. Quickly. Lay low and do not show your face. Next time, we'll not have this chat. I doubt you'll even see me."
With that, the woman turned to leave, but she paused mid-step. She turned back and tilted her head to the side, her pipe raising in between her lips. "For future references, an ordinary blade hurts just as much as a blessed one. A sword to the throat is a sword to the throat, no matter who's throat. Blessing or no, not much is getting up from that." That was it, Miu turned and left, leaving nothing behind but the scent of tobacco and ashes.
Chiyoko gave the exit a lingering look, sheathing her wakizashi with a metallic trill. She couldn't help but wonder what Yōichirō would be told... Miu didn't seem the sort to lie, especially not to him. She also didn't seem one for mercy, yet Chiyoko was still alive. Seemingly berated and lectured, but alive.
But would she have remained? In her current mindset, knowing what she did now, would she have stayed with the Yakuza if she could, in a universe where her uncle had not died? Of course, it was a foolish question. She would just find a way to rationalize it all again. It's what she did before.
She left the shrine a few minutes later, making a mental note to no longer trust even close friends within the Yakuza. If they had told Miu where she was going once, it would happen again. Not many are given a second chance at life. Even fewer are given a third.