mizuxfem!oc
The Ningyo (人魚, "human fish") is a creature with both human and fish-like features.
Many fishermen who find these creatures caught in their nets throw them back into the ocean.
For if a ningyo is caught, she will bring misfortune and cal...
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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: KINUYO _______
The sole other woman Mizu held close, she murdered within seconds.
After a challenging persuasion, she finally trusted her, and the weight of her body relaxed into Mizu's chest. They were so close that they melded into one, and she felt the final beats of her pulse against her skin.
She tried not to think about Kinuyo.
Ever. To do so would be to feel the brittle bones of her neck snapping between her hands. After killing her, she grasped her wrist in the alleyway, staring at her hand with new, terrified eyes.
Murdering innocent Kinuyo was a testament to how far she'd fallen. The specifics of that night blurred like a foggy lake, but she'd never forget being frightened of herself that winter morning. Her heart and her lungs fought each other in the restrictions of her chest, nearly hyperventilating.
She tried not to think about Kinuyo. Ever.
But now, looking at Sogo, she saw her.
Her side profile suddenly looked so much like the deceased young woman. They walked through the smooth, dirt road through the village in Formosa. For a brief moment, she felt the whisks of Kinuyo's final breaths against her neck, and it made her shiver.
Sogo's usual cheerfulness was paled over, weakened. She'd been quiet since their conversation on the ship. The peculiar uncertainty in the air over it was undeniable. She had a terrible feeling about the uprising, but here they were.
Feeling Mizu's blue eyes on her, she lifted hers, reclaiming her face as her own and not Kinuyo's.
The samurai quickly tore her gaze away and sped up. "He said her home was this way."
Down the path, they reached Mei's home. It was a small, U-shaped courtyard home. It was frankly gorgeous and nothing like the tiny shed Mizu was raised in, with exotic flowers decorating the property.
Kicked out of the home, Ichiro fell to his knees in the courtyard. His collar was wrinkled from a tight fist, and the bleeding in his nose suggested a strong right hook.
The two women approached him, their shadows spilling across his body. He looked up and first saw the ningyo. She was like a true god of death looming over him, and he thought he was going to get socked a second time.
"A warm reception, if I ever saw one," Mizu spoke. "Think I'll get better treatment?"
"Ah... her uncle hates the Japanese, too."
"I see."
"He's as hardheaded as a bull, but I don't blame the man."
"Do you need help getting up?" she asked with tolerance, not empathy. Sogo muttered something in disapproval beside her.
