Watching her precise movements, as she showed him the very same knife… hiding beneath her shirt—proving herself to never be unarmed—as it could be foolish for an assassin. It didn’t surprise him, not now.
“… I see.” He gripped it tighter in his hands, avoiding watching the brunette holding the very same knife he held—how did she manage? How did she know how to use this? They really were different in many regards… but that difference only made him more curious. Made him want to learn more. Learn more about this assassin who stood so confidently, knife in hand. Knife that killed. “But you don’t have to use it anymore. It’s in the past. If you leave them in here, they won’t try to find you, Harumaki. Only you can come to get them.”
The self-assured astronaut (trainee) stopped averting his gaze, instead directing it into her eyes. The eyes glancing toward the knife… eyes that could stop, look away, never to see that knife… ever again. It could be possible. It could.
“You could leave it.”
her face was impossible to read. no movement, no sound, no change in expression. —– only that constant sardonic gaze, caked in blood, watching and waiting. his words weren’t foreign to her ears, in fact she’d thought about it. leaving. —– but her shoulders lay heavy with burden and her face is wrinkled with experiences no high - school girl should know. but, it was all she knew.
‘ and do what ? ‘ she looked him dead in the face, knife still in hand. these grooves were familiar to her, this weapon —- it felt right. she had no family, no friends, only her knife. and maybe that was good enough for her.
‘ this is all i’m good at —- and it is what i’ve been told to do. i shouldn’t want anything else. i’m alive, and that’s all that matters. ‘