She had been perfectly content to stay at home in her apartment once she had reached it, to be entirely honest. The goings-on outside had little interest to her; Yotsuyu was more than content to simply watch while everyone else struggled to survive. It brought no thrill to her â and she held little concern for anyone she had come to, ugh, âcareâ about in this city. They were all more than capable of fending for themselves, if they had even left their rooms tonight to begin with.
But as she watched from her apartmentâs balcony, Yotsuyu soon found that her plan to stay at home and be blissfully ignorant to the carnage and squabbling of the idiots on the street would not play out like she had planned. Even from her vantage point, some of the outfits of the gangling ghouls belowâŚ
⌠well, she would have recognized them anywhere.
It was no surprise to find her sneaking out of the apartment again, gun in hand. It was even less of a surprise when her own gun soon joined the echoes of other gunshots and magics â but it was a surprise that for the first time in months Yotsuyu looked alive. She knew she was not, of course; she was still just as much a spectre as the corpses littering the streets. But she felt it, for the first time in forever. She felt⌠good.
Yotsuyu may as well have been humming as she danced through the streets, she seemed so light; her teeth were sinking into her bottom lip, and every so often despite that attempt to keep herself silent, she would laugh. Whatever spirits were not obviously Doman were left untouched unless they attempted to harm her; they brought nothing to her, she felt nothing. But the Domans? Oh, the Domans?
Even if they were simply failed facsimiles, she felt it.
Yotsuyu would have known that silhouette anywhere, and it was enough to cause her rampage to draw to a temporary stop. She had to second-guess herself, wondering if perhaps he had finally been brought to the city, too (and if Asahi had, who was to say Zenos could not be close behind him?)⌠but, no, there was something wrong with his gait, with his clothes. It was nothing but a falsity of Lord Zenos. She would have shot him too â sweet, sweet retaliation for all heâd put her through, for how her life was nothing more than a thing to play with â had a pathetic sound not drifted across the night air over to her, causing her to pause.
A swarm of the ghouls had been drawn to the sound as well, drawn to some miserable, weak voice attempting to shout that they should stay back, attempting to threaten creatures drawn forward by their desire to consume the living alone. Yotsuyu barely processed the voice; she was just drawn to the Domans, to the wave of spirits quickly approaching her. Very well, then.
They were disposed of easily, each corpse falling to the ground after a gunshot echoed around the city. Body after body. One⌠after⌠another. Each shot was followed by her taking a step closer, approaching not only the fallen Domans but the still-living heap collapsed in the rubble.
And then her gun was turned to the little whimpering rat.
She hadnât processed it before, but there was no doubt now, this close, that this was her dearest brother. Any thought of resuming her little charade sheâd put on during their last unfortunate meeting didnât matter; Tsuyu would have been crying scared in some corner, begging for Gosetsu to come save her, not all but sawing through the creatures with a smile on her face.
She could have done it. Could have taken the shot right there, blown his brains out onto the pavement at point-blank range and guaranteed that for the time being the worm was out from under her skin. And then what? Have him come back as vengeful as ever, destined to ruin her life even more than before? The hunger wouldnât go away if she killed him here.
Especially not with him cowering and crying on the ground in front of her, as lovely a sight as it was. A grotesque smile had spread across her lips.
âGet to your feet, brother.â
in his despair, who else would have come running as if the scent itself was akin to that of blood for the hound to follow? who else might have been summoned in the night, drawn to despair as she was to the moonlight? no, to expect anything or anyone other was foolish. he might have even laughed, had fear not seized his heart so tightly and rid him of his chance for quips. his breath came like shuddered, hungry gasps; lungs tight and yet empty all the same. panting, whining, quite the pitiful mess he was, not much of a proud son and soldier when bumbling wretch seemed far more apt. â sis...sister? â he almost swatted her aside, almost lashed out with fury embedded in the jaw locked in displeasure. he didnât have to. the anger and shame was written into his very face.Â
â i thought... â tsuyu. was she not plagued with clouded forgetfulness? did she not mourn the memories she could not retrieve? it seemed not. perhaps in the muddle of confusion or the throes of glorious battle, his dear sisterâs mind had cleared. and then, only then, did his anger seethe vicious enough to froth at his lips, forming words that bit and a tone that resembled far better his twisted heartâs nature. â you... you lied to me! fumbling tsuyu, hah! just theatrics! â he staggered to his feet, mud dripping from the white but he no longer seemed to care. as he spoke, his arms moved wildly; thrown up in the melodrama of it all.
â my dear, sweet sister, and to think i fell for your act. my, my, perhaps even our parents would commend such a performance! truly, you are an endless source of surprise. â he laughed, a cackle that did not suit such a small person, such a slight frame, for it was heavy-laden with a spite that should not fit. no, it did not suit a man who had been nought but blessed his entire life; the model child, the perfect follower. but he felt damned and it was only by the kamisâ right that she should know clear of it! â i suppose i ought to thank you, hm? coming to my aid... saving the day... you should have left me for dead, because now i know the truth. i know your little secret! â
his plan was in tatters; all aspects of the illusion he had wanted were shattered like broken shards of a mirror. but hers were too. and he knew where to poke, where to prod. this was the girl who deserved his most bitter revenge, after all. but he pulled off his gloves in response, not yet moving to do little more than prune himself. there was no use in fighting there, not yet. the truth was as ugly as the world itself, but it was plain after all. he pocketed the mud-stained gloves before pulling off the jacket, revealing the shirt beneath the ensemble. he cared little for the act, one of necessity given the state of his beloved uniform. he would rather have died screaming than gone about looking as tarnished as that.
â why not put an end to me here and now, sister? â the jacket hung over his arm, asahi turning back to face her still with fury sunk deep within his brow. â surely it would satisfy you far more than putting holes in these... monsters. â he sighed. perhaps she had learned the truth of the world here, that death was not a blessing or relief, but an endless curse. hah, he supposed it depended upon the listener as to whether it was indeed a curse. for him, the mere concept that he could wrap his fingers around her neck each day of the week and watch her turn ice blue; now that was a greater blessing than most. but there was something else upon his mind, something far more pressing than his beloved sisterâs earned demise.Â
â did you see him? â his voice was so much quieter there, a tender tone as his eyes glanced aside. that harlot, of course she had seen! of course her eyes would have desperately sought his own! but that was his lord, his own master. â lord... zenos. â
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