"Myself within the darkness. No, the darkness within myself."

Kirika takes off her duffel bag. As she unzips it, her hands begin to frantically search for her phone. It’s…not there. She can feel the panic rise in her chest.

“I swear I had it…” she says, before following the noise down.

It’s…A Pikachu. Kirika was never used to Pokémon actually existing, but time in Isola has changed that. She takes a deep breath, to calm herself. She kneels down, putting herself at the cute animal’s level. She doesn’t do anything else, so not to invade the space of the Pokémon.

Hikaru was just wasting her time browsing to the internet with her phone, watching funny clips. She had her giggles and such it seems that the other might need help, ask for something or all of the above. 

Kirika taps her pockets, with a surprised look on her face. “Wait…where’s my phone?”

“I swear I had it…” she says, before following the noise down.

“…I don’t know,” Kirika answers, truthfully. “I don’t think I’ll ever know. And…maybe that’s okay,” she points out.

“And yes, I am human…And I want to clarify. Not every human has the instinct to kill. Instincts change from person to person. But sometimes, it is just people’s instinct to kill. Not everyone’s, but some.”

▄▀  — “That’s… quite a thoughtful answer. Yes, maybe that is okay."Nabor smiles, and relaxes into the conversation. The stranger was just that – strange – yet now he could piece them together, little by little, sense being found in their perspective. Less hypocrital, more… sad.

Kirika stays quiet a little longer. It was hard to find the words to say to a stranger turned enemy. She usually didn’t have to say much to people like that. They were usually just targets to hit, metaphorically and literally. She didn’t have to think about it either, because she just let her instincts do all the work.

“I…” the assassin starts. “I’m sorry. About before. I wasn’t myself back then. Let me make it up to you…just give me a moment.” Putting her gun in her jacket pocket, she squats down and pulls out her hard earned diamond bullets, and her diamond knife. Before she starts, however, she pulls out her phone, and puts her playlist on shuffle. As a fairly recognizable song came on through the phone’s speaker, she took a picture of the frozen bullets, and began sculpting them to size.

The apparent remorse in the other woman’s voice was evident to Nanami, that much was certain. She continued with her task, not changing her movements, but her full attention was still present. Her sword chipped away at the diamond with meticulous care, her lack of strength making it easier. She knew that if she struck at the mass with the jewel-encrusted blade like a hammer, she would only succeed in ruining her tool itself. 

The music caught her attention right away. She stopped her work to briefly shoot the second a stare that was as cool as the diamonds themselves. The photo and subsequent carving made her briefly halt the sawing of her sword. Nanami’s claws, however, remained unsheathed. 

Kirika nods. “I’ve heard that one before, somewhere…” she mentions, almost to herself. “I’ve never been good with literature and mantras, but that one is true sometimes. I wouldn’t say it’s all the time. Sometimes there’s no rainbow. Sometimes it’s just the rain.”

“It’s our instinct to do good, but our nature to commit sin. These things coexist within each other. However, our nature defines us more than our instinct. And sometimes this instinct isn’t to do good at all. Sometimes it’s just to kill people.”

▄▀  — “Sometimes there’s just sunshine, and sometimes that’s a terrible thing, too.” Nabor smiles, content in simply listening to the stranger… vent? It certainly sounded like venting, as such bleak outlooks were far from typical reality. He’d dealt with the most puzzling mysteries the gods had to offer; a stranger at a ramen stand almost took him back there. Almost.

Kirika had learned very quickly that her snow boots were not suited for slippery, jagged diamond. Unlike soft snow, it didn’t collapse under her foot’s weight, giving her stability. All she did was stumble and stretch her armspan for balance. She had originally planned to take advantage of this event to the fullest, so she hid some shells in an alley and a dinner knife out overnight, near a trash bin. Now she came to collect her stuff back.

She first slid the knife into her jacket, making sure the cold crystal didn’t scratch her gun too much. She had just cleaned it, after all. Slowly, she picked up the now frozen Corto nine millimeter ammunition, and inspected it. She didn’t really know if the gun powder would ignite, but she’d fix it on the live monsters in the Mistwoods later. The knife would come in handy then, to shape and refine the shape of the bullet.

As she took out her Beretta to see if the DIY Diamond bullets would fit into the magazine, eyeing it side by side, she felt a pair of eyes on her. Cold ones. It was the voice that sealed the deal.

Almost immediately, she whipped around, and aimed her gun with diamond bullets in hand. But after a silent, shaky standoff, all that comes out of the assassin was a solid sigh. Closing her eyes, Kirika meditatively lowers her gun. After her eyes open, she stares blankly at the person that once tried to murder her, with no intent of much of anything in her body language and face.

If the two of them were engaged in a staring contest, Nanami was the clear winner by the end of it. She remained as still as the door she had been chipping away at until the other finally lowered her weapon. Her lip curled upon noticing it. 

“Well?“

Her tone was as sharp as the diamond-encrusted sword she was carrying, a tinge of annoyance creeping into it. However, as morose as she sounded, her face didn’t betray a lick of anything passionate. She stabbed a bit of the mass of diamond with the tip of the blade, leaning into it for support limply. 

“Have you come to help or hinder me?“

Of course, Nanami knew that if the latter was the case, she would have tried attacking her from behind as soon as possible. There was no reason for her to be this close (she assumed), unless the other wanted to actually talk. Facing back to the entrance, Nanami wedged the sword free from the pile and tapped it against the base… Almost immediately, short claws unsheathed themselves from the nails of her free hand with an oddly metallic sound.    

Kirika looks at the circle. It was pretty damn complicated, for sure. Was it even a circle? She’s never seen a design like this before. It was more confusing than anything—a circle that looked unheard of, in public, with a face tattooed man above it. Slowly, she tilts her head.

She didn’t know what it was, but she could tell she wouldn’t be able to understand this. But by the way the man responded by her glance, she managed to muster a “Hmm.” By the tone, you could tell it was laced with cautionary skepticism.

 There wasn’t much to cover up his own plans right now. even if the circle won’t work, its still something that he made by habit already. in honesty he did it to calm his nerves. 

So, after planting her feet, she looked directly into the man’s eyes, and said one word.

If there was anything good about all of this diamond covering the city’s architecture, it was that the means to cut through it were readily available. Nanami figured that that was also a bad thing, since that meant more things had just been entombed in more diamond. A catch 22 sort of thing (whatever that was). 

Her apartment’s front entrance had been covered in more shiny facets an hour after it seemed like some of the other residents had broken through it. Having carved an exit out of her window earlier, she wasn’t in the mood to climb up the side of the building and cut another square to get back into her own room. Nanami didn’t know the rest of her neighbors all that well, but she figured that creating an entrance through the front, however temporary as be, would be convenient for all of them. 

She had been in the middle of sawing into the diamond-covered doors with her wooden sword-turned-diamond-cutter until she heard the sound of awkward footsteps on the uneven ground behind her. Thinking it was someone who might be here for the same reason, she turned around.

Her eyes turned colder once she registered the person’s face.

“Oh… It’s you.“

She first slid the knife into her jacket, making sure the cold crystal didn’t scratch her gun too much. She had just cleaned it, after all. Slowly, she picked up the now frozen Corto nine millimeter ammunition, and inspected it. She didn’t really know if the gun powder would ignite, but she’d fix it on the live monsters in the Mistwoods later. The knife would come in handy then, to shape and refine the shape of the bullet.

As she took out her Beretta to see if the DIY Diamond bullets would fit into the magazine, eyeing it side by side, she felt a pair of eyes on her. Cold ones. It was the voice that sealed the deal.

Kirika ponders the question. It’s true; she hasn’t met a demon before, not even here. She was just a mere hitman with a knack for enjoying her quiet time. Hard topics like these weren’t exactly her strong suit, but she had to answer somehow…the words weren’t coming. She didn’t know how to articulate anything. So, after fumbling with her words for a bit, she takes a deep breath, and answers.

“I know that some people can act pure,” Kirika says. “And that’s a good thing. The more good in this world, the better. But sin is unavoidable, no matter who you are, and those sins sometime never vanish. Things like hatred can’t be washed away so easily. It’s just how this world is. It’s a world covered in darkness, which is why we continue to seek the light.”

▄▀  — Oh, how tragic. An individual only waking to half the world, with one eye open still learning a lot to come yet, like a pup’s first crossing over a lake of lava. Nabor smiles, a nostalgic little thing, and doesn’t look her in the eye when he speaks, instead more interested in the stray dirt on his claws.

Kirika nods quietly. Slowly, she reaches into her right pocket to look for her little tissue packet —And immediately finds her hand gripping her gun. She lets go really quickly, but as she reaches deeper into the pocket, her thumb quickly grazes against the side of the barrel, and she can feel that the safety on the gun is on. Eventually, she finds the tissues and pulls it out, offering the pack.

“Here,” finally comes the remark. She didn’t have much to say on winter. It was…kind of bittersweet, she thought. Snow was cold and unforgiving…but also pretty. It’s a miracle to watch snow fall…Until too much has accumulated. Snow reminds her of Russia. She didn’t want to remember what she had to do there.

the coldness of winter without the warmth of the mountain has made everything dreary to bear with. But tokifusa is a trooper and one who would go beyond what is expected to at least, be recognize for his efforts. He’s a big try hard and his results speak for himself. 

 “Ah, thank you young child.” its not like there wans’t much warmth around him, but being so often busy with work, he neglects his own health at times. especiallyo  if there are no retainers to stop him from working. 

Kirika’s been gearing up for winter recently. It wasn’t her first rodeo with snow, and she actually kind of enjoyed snow and winter, but spring was the best season. She hoped that this spring would be a good one.

Suddenly, she hears someone sneeze very hard. She turns around, to meet eyes with a person, around twice her size. Looking at them sniffle, it kind of filled her cold shell. So, gently, she asks, “Do you…need some tissues?”

 “Oh that would be lovely.” he sneezes again, though he had lived in the mountains, he is still in his latter years and perhaps not as young as he hoped he would be. Being this age, his immune system would be much weaker, but still stronger than a average human.