Fate: Kill

Chapter 43

It wasn't supposed to be this way. None of it was, even now.

As Akame stared across at the figure before her with vapid eyes, inwardly, she kept remembering how it all went wrong on that fateful day. Black hearts, chains, curses, greed, and money that sealed the fate of two sisters that should have known their parents better. It was her fault as the eldest. She'd noticed, but had insisted that things would be okay. More specifically, her constant aversion to their reality sealed any chance of escape.

How long has it been?

"Kurome," Akame spoke stiffly, staring at her younger sister she'd just interrupted from striking at former Minister Chouri.

A sinking feeling pushed down on her gut, her thoughts differing from the indifference of her features. She could lie to herself and believe that she was still rattled and marveling at the changes Shirou wrought to the battlefield, but the truth was that she was just looking for excuses.

The minute trembling of her fingers, the goosebumps that ran up her skin ever since she realized who she was facing as an enemy, it all served to consolidate her own hesitation and doubt. The light over Kurome's head was a dark gray, conveying to Akame that Kurome was reaching a point where Akame would no longer be able to regard the woman before her as the doleful 'sister' in her memories.

"What do you get from this?" Akame demanded, focusing on anger as the primary emotion to spur through her hesitation at pointing a blade at Kurome.

If Kurome could be reasoned with, it presented the ideal scenario for Akame as she dreaded to dwell over the alternative.

Steadying herself, Akame narrowed her eyes and watched for any sudden movements. Kurome didn't disappoint in that the monotone droll of her features twisted in scorn.

"The first rule in assassination is never to waste your breath on the enemy." Kurome did not care for pleasantries or prolonged conversation. "You've changed...big sis."

Kurome said her piece, and that was it. Her lips shut closed, her features glossing over into an impeccable mask of indifference while Akame picked up on the shift of her footwork. Her knees bent, her weight leaning to the balls of her feet- she was going to charge.

How reckless.

No. It was Akame who was wrong in this case. The limitations and skillset of the Kurome she remembered, and the Kurome before her now, were no longer the same.

Kurome dashed forward far faster than Akame expected. The momentary pause Akame took to reassess Kurome prevented her from reacting immediately, and let Kurome close in.

Murasame rose in defense as Kurome cleaved downward with Yatsufusa.

Their swords clashed, sparks grating along their edges and illuminating their indifferent expressions hardened through assassination after assassination. Akame pressed, her sword sliding down the base of Kurome Teigu before clashing against the guard, and directing the sword harmlessly to the side.

She glanced up, only to blank as Kurome head-butted her and forced her to recoil back. Miraculously, she was not dazed and stabilized her footing. Gnashing her teeth, she jabbed the full length of her blade forward and was blasted back from a resulting heavy counter.

Clicking her tongue, Akame used the force of the counter strike to fling herself into a backflip. She twisted in the air, righted herself, and then dug her heels into the dirt as soon as she landed, gouging grooves beneath her soles.

Her pupils dilated, head leaning to the left.

She stared at Kurome who was already right in front of her, the stab intended to pierce through her eye, missing by mere inches.