I : Sacrifice

The weight of the knife in her hands, the rasp of sharpened steel sliding out of the sheath, sweetly familiar. How many times has she held it high to admire the light dancing on the blade?

Spotless. Unused. Unmarred. She is saving it for something special.

(No blood but my own.)

Cold metal polished to a sheen. A parting gift pressed into numb hands, guided into the inner pockets of a coat.

(Take this, and always remember, daughter, the words you were brought up by.)

(Death before dishonor.)

She did not even have the luxury of a choice. Either she left with them, or her family would have no peace. So she left. It was the only thing she could do.

(Lead like a lamb to the slaughter.)

All the way down that long hallway she was thinking. Planning. He will have his way with me, she thought. I will have fulfilled the terms of contract. When I have completed my duty, there will be nothing left binding me to this world.

Until he came along.

(Kougaiji-sama.)

(The Hundred-Eyed Demon carelessly uses women as his playthings until they break. Then, he devours them. I rescued you not because I took pity on you, but to have you as a herbalist and a cleric, he said.)

Duty. It is always about duty. Obligation, gratitude, loyalty, service. Only that she chose to follow it to the letter.

Live by the code. Die by the code. Death before dishonor.

The one who would not stop smiling, the one who she had confronted and had fought.

The one she had lost to.

He asked her if he'd hurt her. He held out his hand to her. She slapped it away. First, defeat, then, pitied by the enemy. It was too much to bear. Humiliated, thwarted by a ki barrier and her own too-slow reflexes.

She got up. She felt her fingers close around the knife.

It was beautiful day. Clear sunny afternoon. Lovely by all counts.

(I saw the battle as a game. As child's play. I was wrong.)

The hilt was warm in her hands. In the end it all came done to this.

(Failure. Failure is death.)

Disembowelment was ritual, but too messy; the knife was too short.

(If I stab myself in the heart, what will there be left for him?)

She raised the blade to her neck.

"Farewell. Kougaiji-sama."

(Forgive me.)

The world exploded in fire and she thought it was a beautiful way to die.