Blades Among Chaos » Places

          Darkness is a friend and a companion. It had been always there embracing his very essence since the moment he had born to this world. This time it was no different to let the enigmatic lure of the black engulf him in this deed he would have done by his own. He was no longer in the comfort of his grand estate or under the protection of his multitude of guards. The leader of the Murakami was alone in another place and much donned in an appearance fitted for an assassin. Any person that could see him would only conclude he was there to kill but who and why that it would require his personal hand in it when he could easily order other people to do it for him.

“You should come inside, the cold is not pleasant.”

The voice that echoed through the shoji door was of a female that had the melancholic warmth about it. A smirk was upon his face however, it could not be seen due to the half-mask he wore. The only visible portion upon his face would be his ever ominous crimson eyes. Opening the said door, he entered and closed it. Silence hanged inside the room where a beautiful lady gazed at him with incomparable grace akin to a goddess. There was no doubt about it that this was the one he had to eliminate with his own hands. An action that should be done by him alone and that is to end the life of this woman who represents the spirit of Japan in a sense.

“I could never surprise you, Mikoto Fukuda.”

A gentle and cheerful laughter escaped the woman's mouth who wore the traditional garb of a miko despite the time of night. It would appear his appearance was expected. She stood in front of him as her long purple hair flowed around her and those every perceptive golden eyes of hers gazed at him without falter. It is expected from the Head Priestess of the Fukuda, the lineage of remarkable mikos that had been the religious symbol of Japan since ancient yore. There were always three prominent figures in Japan. It would be the Emperor, his Adviser which would be now known as the Prime Minister and the Religious Sect leader. The latter had always been untouched by politics and even the ruler due to the power it holds over the people. However, the times had greatly changed. The death of the prominent leader of the Shinto would cause great confusion. It is something that would initiate Takahiro’s plan.

“You have come to the Fukuda Household. Are you here as my guest or are you here as my grim reaper? Would you be like a plague similar to the Kan?”

He unsheathed his Kuroi Dama in a swift manner. This was enough to answer her inquiry of his presence here now. Furthermore if he was here as a guest, he would not have gone to the trouble of sneaking around would he. Mamoru placed the tip of his sword at Mikoto’s neck clearly showing his intent of maliciousness. His eyes of blood red gazed into her golden ones that had always reminded him of the bright sun. It was also the eyes that he had come to cherish in the past but now, he would have to make those eyes be closed for eternity. In this situation, he had expected the guards of the Fukuda appearing to protect their High Priestess but there was none at all. What does Mikoto hoped to accomplish with him tonight? Whatever it maybe, he would not be swayed.

“There is no need for you to be pleasant with me Mikoto. I am your death that is all. This night would be your last.”

Unwavering and steadfast, she held the pointed blade at her neck steadily with both of her hands. There was no hint of fear or looming betrayal upon her facade. They were truly alone and the night covered them perfectly from all others. Mamoru had never understood this holy maiden ever since the first time he had met her. Before, she was only a girl known to be the successor of the prestigious Shinto Priestess line and was the deceased Princess Kumiko's best friend. In those days, they had met and shared bonds. Those times passed by with her comforting presence as the Murakami Head recalled.

“Why would you not call for help, Mikoto. Are you that certain I would not kill you?”

Mikoto shook her head and had a pleasant smile upon her face. She was indeed very beautiful in anyone’s point of view. However, her duty as the High Priestess had prevented her to be bind to anyone. Her life, heart and soul only belong to the one they call, 'Kami-sama'. She is only committed to the God that is said to be existent in her chosen religion of Shinto. To him, it was a mere illusion to keep the people tamed.

“I had never doubt you Mamoru. I just do not like to involve other people about the matters that are only between us. It is better to settle this by ourselves. If you would be my death, I accept it without hesitation. You need not worry that you might be captured or ambushed. We are clearly alone at this moment.”

Mamoru shook his head and had a look of melancholic anger. He removed his mask so Mikoto could get a good look of his face. This was truly unnatural in terms of normalcy for the Murakami Head. This is the only person in this entire world that could make him appear small and fragile without even trying. How could such a woman like him do this to her? More importantly, he has to take her life and let it be an ignition to the consuming fire that would burn through this country.

“You should have run Mikoto when you had the chance. Your God is not here anymore.”

At the end of his statement, he pulled back his blade to his body and plunged it effortlessly into Mikoto’s awaiting body. It was through and through as the blood splattered on the tatami mat. Mamoru retrieved his blade while the fresh blood dripped from its tip. Mikoto looked at him without anger but with understanding and a gentle smile. It made him confused as to why she would smile to the one who had killed her. Moreover, his words made him shook terribly which caused him to grip the hilt of his katana tightly.

“Your eyes are still beautiful as the roses. They had always been my favorite, Mamoru.”

She spoke in such a loving manner much similar to a lover however; her body could not handle her will as she fell towards the floor. Mamoru caught her which was rather his instinct working as he cradled Mikoto delicately like a precious jewel who was currently coughing fits of blood due to her fatal wound. It was only about mere seconds before she breathes her last and for her to be a member of the dead.

“It would have been better if you hated me Mikoto… You should… All this time, Takahiro and I had done everything cruelly. Why would you not hate us? We have changed and it is not for the better. Hate us. Hate me.”

A weakened laughter escaped from Mikoto’s lips as she raised her hand and touched his cheek gently. She still had a smile upon her beautiful face as her life’s fluid continued to flow upon the floor. Furthermore, she shook her head in a very slow manner. To her, Mamoru looked like a frightened child than a vicious killer. She had always wanted to watch over the two and tried to stop their evil dealings with blood and death. Yet, she never succeeded and proceeded to do what she can. It is to die for them to have their dreams realized in her last breath.

“I could never hate you. The same could be said to Takahiro… Kumiko and I always wanted to watch over you three, Mamoru, Takahiro and Aimi… Those were the days… I know it does not mean much... But, it was never your fault or Takahiro's... Would you tell Aimi, welcome home? I wanted to come and visit her but things got hectic and now, I wouldn't be able to... You still remained a gentle person until this moment... I will always believe in you and Takahiro… Plus... How could I hate you when you look so desperate?”

His grip tightened around her dying form. Eyes of red seemed to be clouded in such sorrow that it would appear to be burning. Tears, he wanted to cry but it was something he would not allow for the remainder of his life. Instead, he gave out a smile filled with heart wrenching pain. He took out something from his pocket and presented it to her.

“That is a carnelian that I gave you… You still kept it… Mamoru, take care of everyone… This is as much as I could do… You would be fine even without me, because you are a good boy.”

Slowly, those golden eyes lost its glow of life and were closed forever. Still, she had a satisfied smile upon her face as if she was merely sleeping and having a good dream. Mamoru lowered his head as strands of his hair hid his eyes from anyone’s view. Silence filled the room while the scent of blood permeated strongly. He placed the carnelian within Mikoto’s hands and have her clasped it tightly. Placing her body upon the floor in a gentle manner, he kissed her forehead ever so gently. This was his farewell to the woman who had been a pillar to the three of them. The woman that Aimi looked up to, Takahiro adored much like a mother and him as a woman befitting to be his.

“Goodbye, my first love.”

He stood from his ground and made sure that everything had went according to the plan. The words written by her hands and the usage of Mikoto’s blood could be seen clearly upon the floor beside her. It clearly said ‘Shintate’. This was a set-up to throw the society in an uproar. Aimi would have a hard time getting out of this one. He was certain about this. Opening the shoji door, Mamoru took one last look at Mikoto who seemed to slumber beneath a red ocean of her blood. She still was as seerene and beautiful even at death. After doing so, he left without even a trace and soon enough when he was safely at a distance from the Fukuda Estate. He could hear the screams and alarms emphasizing the discovery of the Religious Leader and High Priestess, Mikoto Fukuda's corpse. Mamoru did not look back as he walked away from his sin and accomplishment while the moon illuminated him in an eerie calmness.