#extra chapter

One day, while Janis was out helping Carl and Grace at work, you were tidying up yours and Janis’ room. With Kalia down for a nap, you had some quiet time. You sat down on the edge of the bed, grabbing Janis’ notebook off the nightstand. There was a pencil tucked in between two pages. Curious, you opened the book up to that page. And there it was…an adorable little doodle of the frog Squishmallow she had won for you at the carnival years ago, just…staring at you. Then, you got an idea. You were going to get this tatted, you were finally going to get it done, check that item of your bucket list.

You set the book down and proceeded to finish sweeping the floor. “Mama, will you play with me?” Kalia appeared in the doorway. “I’m bored.” She chuckled.

“Hey, tell you what— how about you and I go for a little drive. Mama wants to get a surprise for mommy.” You picked up the notebook again, gesturing for her to come over. You picked Kalia up and slid her onto your lap, “I…am going to get a tattoo of this lil guy.”

Kalia gasped, “Oooooh.”

“Will you keep it a secret?” You laughed, kissing her cheek.

“Yeah, mama.” The kid agreed, “Mommy will love it.”

“She so will, right?” You hummed, “Alrighty, come on, let’s go get changed and get going.”

“Can we get shave ice please?” Kalia asked excitedly.

You gasped dramatically, “Are we discussing dessert already, my love?”

“Yes?” She giggled as she led you into her room, “I’m gonna wear my shirt with the froggie on it.”

“Nice one.” You smiled, retrieving that said shirt from her chest of drawers, “Okay, jean shorts or jeans?”

“The shorts.” Kalia decided.

“Here you go. Want me to help?”

“It’s okay. I can do it.” She beamed proudly.

“I’ll wait for you right outside, yeah? Want a snack before we hit the road?”

“Pretzels?” She suggested.

“Good choice.” You shut the door and went to the kitchen to grab the snacks for both of you, and a drink each. Couple minutes later, Kalia emerged from her room. “There you are!” You exclaimed cheerily, “Sit down here, baby. I’m gonna do your hair real quick while you snack?”

“Okay, mama.”

————

After making a copy of the doodle, you took the picture and put it in your purse, leaving the original safe and sound. You found a place that accepted walk-ins, and thankfully it didn’t take long to. You were quickly settled in and talked to the artist about what you wanted. As nervous as you were, the man was really understanding and kind. Having Kalia there with you for moral support was also helpful. The girl held onto your hand before the tattoo artist even started. But, it did calm your nerves very quickly. Well, that and you didn’t want to go batshit crazy in front of Kalia and scare her. Either way…you kept it together. Then…it was finally done. There was an adhesive plastic wrap to leave on for about five days, but now that the actual tattooing was done, it wasn’t as bad as you thought it’d be. You paid, tipped and left after expressing your thanks.

You and Kalia stopped somewhere for lunch before driving the rest of the way home. After helping her take a shower, you sat in the backyard while she decided to read. Sipping on your favourite tea, you glanced up at her occasionally to see how she was doing. Roughly a half hour later, she asked if you could colour with her. You agreed, of course. That was always fun. By then, Janis was almost home. And when she was, Kalia immediately giggled and ran up to her. “Mama has a surprise for you~” Janis took her hand, squinting confused, “What is it, baby?”

“Come with meeee.” Kalia pulled Janis into the backyard, stopping next to you. Janis spots the new tattoo on your forearm. “Oh, that is the cutest thing ever.” Janis gasped softly. “Is that my drawing?”

You looked at your wife with a grin, nodding your head. “Yep.”

“I love it.” Janis pecked you on the lips.

“Me too.” Kalia chimed in, you and Janis chuckled.

“Did you have fun today, my love?” Janis asked, sitting down on the chair next to yours. Kalia nodded, “Mhm. Lunch was really yummy too.”

“Ooh, I bet. Mama sent me some pictures.” Janis smooched her on the cheek. The three of you hung out in the backyard until the sunset, then made dinner together. Carl and Grace were a little surprised, but happy to come home to the laughter and aroma of food cooking on the stove. “We’re home~” Grace walked into the kitchen first, “Thanks for making dinner.”

“Of course.” You smiled, “Go wash up, it’ll be ready in a couple minutes.”

————

“How was it?” Janis asked, shutting the bedroom door behind herself. “The tattoo? It hurt, it did.” You admitted with a raised brow, “My tolerance for pain really plummeted after that incident when I had Kalia. But, I got through it. Wasn’t the worst.”

Janis smiled softly, cupping your cheek then stroking it with her thumb. “It looks beautiful, I’ll say. I actually really want to get another one done.”

“Not gonna stop you, because you know I love it.” You snickered cheekily.

“Oh, I do know.” She mirrored your grin, pressing a kiss to your lips. Janis laughed into the kiss right before she kissed you deeply. Which…ignited a little something in you. And god you wished you weren’t this tired. (Not that it really mattered, Janis loved doing all the work sometimes)

“Fuck.” You cursed, biting back a laugh. Janis kept kissing you, and eventually, you were laid on your back with Janis straddling you. “Yes?” She asked innocently.

“Please.” You uttered, for good measure.

The smile doesn’t leave her face as she slid downwards. You feel her breath fanning against you while she pushed your shirt out of the way. “I love you.” She murmured, peppering kisses all over your core which went lower and lower. You started to squirm, she went back up and attacked your neck instead. Janis of course knew exactly where to work over in order to make you tick, it didn’t take long at all for you to feel incredibly aroused. But your sleepiness was also apparent. At the same time, she’d palmed your breast. What finally made your head spin was the feeling of her lips wrapped around your nipple. You gulped, exhaling harshly. “Fuck.” You laughed breathily when you feel her tug on the sensitive flesh. Janis kept at it, going on and on minute after minute of giving your tits the attention. She knew you like the back of her own hand…this always riled you the hell up. Her eagerness time after time always drove you crazy, but it was more so the fact that she was always gentle with you until…well, you didn’t want gentle. Pretty soon, every inch of your exposed skin was marked by her kisses. Each touch of her lips against your skin sent a rush of heat that pooled between your thighs. Janis sat on your core, knees on either side of you hips as she cupped your face in her hands. “You wanna do it?” She asked, like always. Looking at your flushing cheeks and pouted lips, she couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah.” You told her, voice barely above a whisper as your mouth went dry. You also nodded, so she definitely got it. Janis nodded as well humming in approval as she leaned down to meet your lips, making out with you. Each kiss got deeper and hungrier, with the heavy breathing and the slight struggle to breathe you writhed beneath her. You were getting just a tad impatient. Janis laughed, her breath fanning against your face as she tilted your chin and pulled away from the kiss. Cooing softly, her gaze then fell onto your bicep. Her thumb brushes over the plastic-protected area on your skin, “This is crazy.”

“Really?” You asked sweetly, “I would say crazy is you doing this while knowing exactly what I want.”

“I’m always a little crazy, what do you mean?” Janis smirked, fingers tracing your arm mindlessly. “Is it uncomfortable to lay it like that?”

You squinted at her, this sudden sweetness when she was being smug annoyed you. Obviously. You needed her. “I mean— yeah, but how else do I leave it? Fold my arm and rest it on my chest?”

She snorted, “No, I want to give your boobs some love.”

You laughed, “What? You’re—”

“Hey. You said so yourself. I’m a tit head.”

You rolled your eyes at her playfully. She leaned closer to your face again, palm slowly going from your chin and wrapping around your neck ever so gently. “Keep this up and we’re using the strap.” Her voice was husky and slightly intimidating. Another rush if heat pooled in between your thighs. You whined, “I don’t want the strap.”

“Oh, you don’t?” She teased. “So what do you want?”

“You. Fuck me.” You smiled back as sweetly as you could, she loved it. And she slid back down, settling herself in between your legs, sliding your shorts and underwear off as she moved. You lifted your hips and let her slide those articles of clothing off.

“Glady.” Janis looked at you in anticipation of your taste, “Open up, baby. You don’t need me to tell you what to do…”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

“Who did, then?” Killian eyed him with scrutiny

“I don’t know? I was brought here the same way many years ago. I try to help the others like us come to terms with… what’s happened to them”

Merlin had a look in his eyes, a deep sympathy, a pain that was all too familiar, and Killian knew he was about to shatter his world.

Feeling pressure on his chest, he was finding it difficult to breathe. Overwhelmed by many horrible thoughts circling in his mind. That he might never return home, that the lost girl would put walls up around her heart again if he disappeared without a word.

A deep sinking feeling washed over Killian, one he would not swallow, refusing to accept it. Eyes darting around the dark cave for anything familiar, any chance that this was all just a dream. Spotting a tunnel behind Merlin, Killian marched forward, sure that he could get his bearings better under the stars, but Merlin moved, blocking his path.

“Get out of my way,” Killian glared at him.

“We're not in your world anymore; this may be hard to understand-”

“No, no, you don’t understand, I have to get back, she’ll think I left her,” Killian stuttered out the words, horrified.

“You can’t, you broke the rules,” Merlin said calmly but with a deep sadness.

“I was the one who was attacked,” Killian frowned, his anger like a rising tide slowly overcoming him.

“Think back, Killian, what happened, you must have messed with the laws of magic?” Merlin continued to be calm as if his state of mind was going to spread to Killian.

“I don’t bloody know!”

“Yes, you do”

Despite Killian’s yelling, Merlin's voice remained steady while layered with a sadness that was impossible to ignore. A grief in his eyes that gave Killian pause, questioning himself.

So he did as instructed, and he thought back to that moment on the deck of the Jolly Roger, watching the sunset on his former life, ready to start anew. He heard a sound, a thud and went to investigate, and it all went black. He only saw a glimpse of his attacker, but he knew who it was. The sound of his footsteps, the smell of his breath, the look of self-loathing in his eyes. He knew himself.

“There was another me, another Killian; he knocked me out,” Killian gasped, dropping the large stick. It clattered to the ground as the truth sank in.

“Lucky you didn’t break the very fabric of existence," Merlin’s eyes went wide in shock.

“It wasn’t my fault”

Body trembling, Killian’s mind racing, wondering who this alternative version was, what he was after and if he had hurt anyone he cared for. Hating this other him, he clenched his fist.

“But that was you, just a future you, or a parallel version?” Merlin shook his head slightly as he thought it over.

“Do you even know what you are talking about?”

“What I mean is, he is you and you are him, that means you will make the same choices he did”

“I was about to propose, I didn’t choose this, I wanted a future with her” Killian's voice broke, and tears that brimmed in his eyes began to flow down his cheeks.

“Ahh, love of course,” Merlin's voice croaked, and he turned away.

Merlin slowly walked over to a large table at its centre, a smouldering fire surrounded by bowls of herbs and animal bones, items Killian knew were used for magic, dark magic. Stepping backwards, Killian looked into the tunnel, wondering if he should leave.

“It’s always love,” Merling turned to him with knowing eyes.

The calm was gone, but Merlin wasn’t angry, just sad. A man who had the kind of grief in his eyes that Killian knew all too well, sensed that Merlin had lost someone dear to him. Finally breaking through to Killian, as he accepted his only chance at answers, at getting home, was Merlin.

“Please help me,” Killian gasped out.

Merlin nodded.

“You need to know. We're not in your world anymore. I’m not from your timeline”

“Timeline? I don’t understand”

“I know it's confusing, we are all variants, duplicates, brought here because we can’t be anywhere else, because we broke the rules”

The mask of the wise wizard faded briefly as his traumatic past flashed before his eyes.

Sighing head still throbbing, Killian held his hand to his temple. He should be worried about what the strange wizard meant by destroying the fabric of existence, but all he could think about was Emma.

“Is she?” Killian gasped out, meeting Merlin's eyes, and he knew that he understood what he was trying to ask. Was Emma ok, or Henry or anyone in Storybrooke?

“I can show you,” Merlin's calm returned, only this time it was reassuring while he smiled at Killian.

Getting to work, he threw some of the herbs, flowers into the fire while waving his hands around, conjuring up a ball of light over the flames. It was not like anything Killian had seen in all centuries of living; he could feel the magic pulling him in, and he stepped closer.

“I’m going to need something of yours, a personal artifact”

“Didn’t bring anything when I was sucked through a portal, mate”

Merlin eyed his hook, holding out his hand for it.

Killian shook his head in protest.

“It’s the only way, promise I’ll give it back,” Merlin smiled a little.

Letting out a sigh, Killian looked down at his hook, a symbol that defined him villain or hero, but it meant nothing without her. Quickly, he unravelled the ties that held it to his wrist and handed it over to the strange wizard.

Smiling, Merlin placed it on the table, sprinkling what looked like pixie dust over it, but it was much more poignant. Covering his nose, Killian gagged, noticing the hook was shimmering in an assortment of colours that pulsed out towards the orb.

“Look into the light, you will get the answers you seek,” Merlin stated glumly.

Killian inched closer, squinting at the light, aware that the truth wasn’t always pleasant, that maybe Merlin was trying to warn him, he might witness a horrible fate. Emma could already have been lost, while he was unconscious.

“Please, no,” Killian gasped out.

All his fears, all his doubts washed away as the shapes and colours in the orb shifted, forming a picture. It was Emma, his Swan, who held the engagement ring in her hands, and she was handing it to him in the middle of the road right by the town line.

“What is this? I don’t understand”

“I’m sorry I don’t have all the answers, I just know this is real, I can only glimpse at the lives we left behind, but I hope it gives people solace”

“You mean to tell me that this other me, that he is going to marry Emma?”

“Yes”

A gut-wrenching dread took hold, and Killian placed his hands on the table to stop himself from passing out. This wasn’t right, it wasn't fair, that was his happy ending. Did he not deserve it?

“From what I can gather, something tragic happened, and you went back in time and changed it” Merlin raised his hand and, with a flick of the wrist, the image changed, showing flashes of moments.

Killian couldn’t believe what he was hearing-seeing. Glimpses of him running through the rain, Emma lying dead in his arms, and then he jumped through the witches' time portal.

“No, no, if I saved her I should be with her, I have to get back” Killian leapt forward with all sense of reason lost in this madness. As if he could jump into those images and be with Emma again, he surged forward.

“Wait, stop!” Merlin warned, gripping his arm to hold Killian back, the orb flicked through more glimpses of a wall of ice, Excalibur with his name carved into it, a rooftop wedding. It was all so out of place, but in each one, they were there. Emma and Killian together through it all.

“No, I have to go back, I have to!” Killina yelled, his hand gripping around his hook, and it sent a surge of energy through him. It was a blissful, glowing sensation he’d felt before-it was the magic of true love.

Then a laugh of a child had him freeze in place. Both men looked up to see a golden-haired toddler racing around a grassy yard. Behind her, a large house coated in blue weatherboards, as she giggled, she turned, looking up to someone with loving eyes.

“Who’s that?”

“I don’t know, this has never happened,” Merlin faltered, a fear in his voice.

Killian came into view, playfully chasing the small child around the yard before scooping her up and placing the girl on a tire swing, he pushed her gently. Emma walked up to them, smiling widely as she watched.

“Higher, daddy”

“Ok, Hope, hold on,” Killian chuckled.

“Hope?” Killian's voice trembled.

Killian felt his heart jump, seeing her, his daughter. He had a daughter. A piece of him that was so filled with joy, love and innocence. A perfect angel.

Surging forward, his hand went through the orb, and it sent a zap through his body. But the vision vanished, the world became dark and empty. The swing was still there, but the family was gone.

“What happened? Where did she go?”

“This is the future, it has not happened yet, it might not,” Merlin warned, stepping back. He pulled Killian with him, and as he let go of the orb, the vision of Hope reappeared. “Not if you go back”

“We got our happy ending,” Killian gasped out. He could feel nothing but joy seeing his baby girl.

“You did”

Killian smiled, turning to Merlin, he could not deny the gut-wrenching love in his heart; whatever love he felt in the centuries he’d lived was nothing in comparison to this. A sensation that broke through all else, his fears and doubts faded away, Killian felt lighter than he ever had before.

“You can never return to that world; it could change this future,” Merlin reiterated.

“If this, staying here alone is the price for her, then I will pay it”

–

“Where are we going?” Killian sighed, trailing behind Merlin out of the cave under the night sky.

The bliss from seeing Hope had faded somewhat as his new reality sank in, a world full of quirky characters, but they were all carrying the same grief he was. Walking down a dirt road through a small village, Killian had never been amongst such a colourful array of people. Whatever this land was, it wasn’t the enchanted forest or Storybrooke but something different. Walking down torchlit dirt roads past wooden huts, Killian noticed some passersby had in their hands the same strange electronic devices, like those found in Storybrooke. There was a power generator by an apothecary, and none of the attire matched all from different time periods, different worlds.

They all knew Merlin. Shook his hand as he walked by. Some tried to get him to join them for dinner, but he declined, sticking by Killian's side.

“I don’t need a babysitter, I’ll be fine on my own,” Killian sighed, frustrated, but he was desperate not to be alone.

“I know, I just figured you’d want a drink”

Merlin stopped walking, gesturing with his hand to a tavern just up ahead of them. From the outside, you could hear the piano as people sang along to the cheery melody.

“Rum, just tell me they have rum in this realm,” Killian sighed.

“Yes, some of the best I ever had,” Merlin chuckled.

Killian’s heart was still filled with warmth, knowing the fate of Emma and his other self was a happy ending after all. It still left a sting that he couldn’t be a part of that future; he had to live out his days in this alternate world. Find a new happy ending. Killian had this thought as he opened up the door to the tavern.

“Stop him!” Her voice, Emma’s voice, called out.

Getting up from the floor at the far side of the tavern, she ran towards him. Short blonde hair and a scar along her chin, still unmistakable, this was Emma Swan, just not his Emma. A scowl on her face, hate-filled eyes aimed at a man rushing toward Killian. So stunned, Killian froze, and the man brushed past him out the door, disappearing into the night.

“Emma,” Killian gasped, moving in front of the door and blocking her path.

“Thanks for the help,” Emma grunted sarcastically as Killian remained in the doorway, gawking at her.

“What, how?” Killian turned to Merlin, who gave him a knowing look before walking away.

Emma was pulling out a crumpled-up parchment from her pocket and shoved it against Killian's chest forcefully. On the paper was an image of the man who had just run off; it stated he was wanted for banditry, and there was a reward.

“See this, you just cost me five hundred gold,” Emma said through gritted teeth.

“You're after a bounty?” Killian chuckled.

“I’ll find him,” Emma sighed, her eyes scanning the surroundings outside.

“I bet you will,” Killian smiled.

Emma rolled her eyes, walking back into the tavern. It was then he noticed her attire, recognising that Emma must have come from the land without magic. A blue leather jacket and tattered jeans with an empty gun holster tied to her waist. Curious, he wanted to know this Emma better, know her story.

“What about a drink?” Killina smirked, and she, despite not being his Emma, looked back at him with the same disbelief in her eyes that was familiar. A wall was there; that was clear. Whatever she had been through in her life had her pushing people away.

“You owe me more than a drink, pirate,” Emma scoffed.

When you came to, the skin on your cheek was greeted by the hard cold ground, shocking your body into wakefulness. A couple blinks, and you were scurrying to your feet in adrenaline filled panic. Your body ached, the sudden movement causing you to drop back to the ground, and you began to take in your surroundings as you started to calm yourself. 

Outside. You had made it outside. Clenching the hard snow in your hands, the memories had started to slip back into your mind. The running, the screaming of women, the gunshot that went off. You started to recall the last few hours you had spent in the mountain side prison with the apprentice and his master.

His master. 

You scanned your surroundings closely now. A few feet away lay his body. As quiet as possible, you crawled closer to him. The details of his damage became more clear the closer you reached until you were hovering over him. He had scarring on his skin, disrupting the smooth texture it usually had. Dried blood painted his face, some now washed off with the help of the melting snow. You could see his clothes had burn marks and tears from the fighting he did to push through the prison. His back moved slightly under his clothing. He was breathing. 

A surprising sense of relief washed over your mind like sudden rain on a pit of fire. You didn't dare reach out to touch him, but his breathing no matter how shallow his breaths were, gave you some peace. Especially with what it took for you all to make it out. 

Flashbacks of the last few hours passed behind your eyes. The bodies of the guards left on the floor as you two and the rest of the women made their way out the prison. The dim lit hallways as you all tried to use your memory to find your way back. That's what the guards had not accounted for. It had been so long since any of the other prisoners had seen their entrance in, they had forgotten how to leave and in doing so they became even more docile with their imprisonment, losing hope of escape. Not you, and clearly not the two men locked up with you. Hope was as reliable as a bad rope, but you all held onto it and looked for opportunities. Ringo receiving the beat down he had by the men with egos as big as their heads and coming back with the key to your escape was the first glance of freedom. His master making himself a target was the second. 

You remembered how it all went, the memories rushing you as you watched him breath on the cold winter floor. The scent of panic radiating off the prisoners, the rush of adrenaline in your veins as you pushed past. Soon you caught Ringo’s master stop at a corner, glancing around before dashing off somewhere else. You scoffed. Of course. This was his chance to escape. The prisoners were set free, but their freedom was no ones responsibility but their own. You looked around and found Ringo, guiding them. Still recovering from his bruises, yet he moved with agility and patience. He bent over to help those that he could as you all looked for another door, something that could lead to the outside. 

“Stop right there!” A man's voice rang out from the opposite hallway. Behind him were more guards to back him up and retrieve all the prisoners. You all had made it this far, and you refused to go back there because everyone was moving too slow. The blue eyed man had decided to take his leave the moment he could, and it was probably best you made the same decision. The selfish live longer.

The familiar sound of choking on blood, followed by a loud thud was heard from behind the man. You heard a sword slice the air before the cruel sound of its blade splitting skin, and then another body hit the ground. The men turned around to meet eyes with the bloodied samurai, now reunited with his blade once more. His fingers clasped around it with ease, almost like it was a part of his limbs. He readied himself for the next person to come his way now that his presence was known, and they charged him. 

Once again you witnessed the dance of his fighting technique. How his blade moved through the air, through the bodies of the guards. He became as fluid as the blood  he was spilling onto the walls of the prison. 

You stood and watched him for a second. He could have left. It was smarter if he did. There was nothing benefiting him in returning. The prisoners, bruised, weak and scared, moved like cattle. They would have held him back further. His apprentice, though kind and true at heart, could be replaced and you got the sense that he preferred traveling alone anyhow. He didn't need to return, and yet he did once again fighting another battle for those who can’t defend themselves. His eyes lit up with adrenaline as he sliced through the guards and for a minute you were reminded that he was the infamous onryo plaguing Japan. This demon performing the acts of a savior. 

He was still a demon nevertheless. 

You snapped back into your reality at this moment, the memory of his lightning blue eyes in the dark fading from your vision as you stared at his now closed eyelids. You couldn't let yourself get confused. He was still the enemy, on a mission to destroy the man who raised you. It all came rushing back to you now. Yes, his distaste for your father. The words he had said about him. Now that you have seen his skill, you know what he is capable of. It plucked a feather on the wings of your pride, but you had to admit that he was dangerous. 

Killing him here would put an end to all of this. You had no weapons on you currently, but even if you did you weren't sure if you could. You told yourself it was because he was laying at a bad angle, and if you didn't slice accurately or bash his head in with enough force you risk waking him up and entering a challenge you didn't have the energy to accomplish. Maybe he would die out here, you thought to yourself as you moved away from his body. Maybe an animal more savage than him would come here with an empty stomach and feast on his body. Maybe the cruelty of winter's nature would take him, opening the soil and embracing him under a blanket of white. Maybe it could do it for you, because in that moment you couldn't bring yourself to. 

You moved slowly, creeping away from his body until you could safely turn around and dash off into the woods. Ringo was nowhere to be seen, but he wasn't yours to concern over anyway. Once again it was just you on your own, like it’s always been. Branches slapped at your arms and ankles, and the cold air bit at your lungs as you ran through the woods, looking for anything to lead you to somewhere you recognize. Your memory brought you back to the escape now as you ran.

Through the dimly lit halls, around corners you used your memory to find your way back to the entrance you had taken just to find it surrounded. Luckily they didn't hear you, so you slipped back behind the wall and watched as they closed and locked the gate. They must have been notified that there was an escape happening. You cussed under your breath, and turned quickly. This would make it more difficult, but not impossible. There was a way out. There was always a way out. You’d either find one, or you’d make one.

You carried this same mentality with you while you traveled the woods. Minutes turned to hours as you gathered your surroundings, using them to guide you home. You couldn't have been far from the prisons in the mountain, meaning you weren't far from the project your father had them directing people from. You recalled the map your father has shown you on several occasions, and you remembered that his home was in the center of all of his projects. In his new world he was creating in Japan, he would be the center of it. The sun would be him and his grace would be the light and all would be right. You believed in his vision. You believed in him. 

Days went by as you continued your travel back home. The anticipation of seeing your father again fueled you. You had so much to tell him. About the people in the village. About the prison. About the samurai you left to die alone. Regret pinched at your sleeves like a stubborn child. Though it was weak, he was still breathing. On a normal assignment, you would have already spilled his blood. On a normal assignment, you would have made sure he never stood back up. You wouldn't see him again, you told yourself. He would die in those woods, and you wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of your lack of action. If he was smart, he would realize that coming for your father has cost him more strain than anything. He would turn around and leave his mission behind. He would wake up and realize the returned favor for saving your life and everyone else's in the prison. He would seek out a different mission, you hoped.

But next time you saw him, you would not hesitate. 

The sound of swords slicing through the air and hitting skin was heard behind you as the memory slipped itself into your focus again. Finding the exit was the most important to you at this moment and you made it your goal to get to one, but as you scanned hallways to hallways, realization gleaned over you like a cloud. They were locking the gates, closing the doors, making it impossible to leave. 

When you were beginning to lose hope, a small light flickered over your frantically searching eyes and you realized in that moment what it was. A window of hope, literally. In a room down the hall there was an opening close to the ceiling. It was probably used for aiming out the side of the mountain with arrows or now supplied guns for trespassers. Moving towards it, you leaped into the air to hold onto the ledge and pulled yourself up with as much strength as possible to take a peek on the other side. It wasn't much of a fall, probably a few scratches or two, and the hole was big enough to fit a grown man. This would be perfect. For all of you.

You ran back to the group and Ringo met your eyes first. Tilting your head quickly in the direction you just came from, you and him took the group and started running towards the room again, and one by one you and the apprentice began lifting the people up and helping them out the window. Some were scared, fearful of what was lying for them outside these walls but you pushed for them to leave anyway. Anything was better than this prison..this prison that was burning. 

Unsure how, the scent of burning wood and smoke filled the air as Ringo pushed the last woman out. His master was still nowhere to be seen, but you could hear the fighting getting closer. Ringo reached over to you now, offering to help you first out the hole when you backed away from his reach. 

“You go.” You told him quickly, reaching for a wooden stool he could stand on.

“No, I can’t do that. I need to make sure you're safe-” 

“Now is not the time for hospitality. Go, Ringo.” Harshness brushed the edges of your tone. You weren't even sure why you were letting him go first. The selfish live longer, and yet here you were offering a chance of survival to someone else. Someone who was kind. 

“The women trust you,” you said softly “They’ll need you out there to lead them as far away from the prison as possible.” 

To that he nodded, but not before placing a nub on your shoulder and offering one of his small smiles. You watched him leap up on the ledge before leaning over to push him up with as much strength you could muster. The plush of his skin slipped from your hands as he fell out the window and you were dragged to the floor. The air in your lungs left as the weight of a man straddling you dropped onto your chest. One of the guards had finally found you all but was too late as now all the prisoners had escaped. You could see the rage in his eyes as he lifted his fist and struck your face. The sudden pain made you blink in and out of consciousness, and eventually you felt his hands around your throat. You flailed your legs as much as you could, and held onto his wrist with one hand while the other searched his person for anything to break you free. Spitting your blood in his face didn't seem to faze him either. He was determined to kill you. This is how you would die then. In the grasp of a soldier hired by your father. You began to lose consciousness for longer than just a few seconds, your grip growing weaker. 

Blood spilled onto you as his grip weakened and you gasped for air. When you opened your eyes, you saw the blue carefully sculpted sword directly in his scalp as he was still looking down at you before he died. The sword was removed, and his body kicked over to reveal the blue eyes of the man who killed him for you. He leaned over to offer you his hand, and you reached for your neck instead, rubbing the sore spot you knew would bruise. With shaky limbs, you stood up and limped towards the window. Here you let him help you as he climbed up too. The smell of smoke and blood left your lungs as you both lept from the window and into the fresh mountain side.

The smell of smoke and blood greeted you now. 

After days of searching, you found your fathers home but something was different. Instead of being greeted by his guards, you were greeted by a great flame instead. You watched from the hills in genuine confusion and distraught. How could this have happened? This area was guarded heavier than any kingdom, you had thought. The fire looked recent, like it had only started a few hours ago as it was still in its blaze. That did not stop you from running down the hill, past the gates, and into the place you once called home. 

Bodies lay to the left and right of you, the traps set out to catch intruders set off but with no intruder caught in them. Confusion circled your mind, racing like an untamed horse. How could this have happened? What could have caused this? Where was your father?

You could barely breathe, panting frantically as you ran through the halls of your burning home. Your limbs ached as you climbed steps, flung open doors, dodged planks of wood falling from the walls and ceiling. He was your number one priority. How could you have been gone for so long. How could you have left. The memory of your father’s hesitation to send you on this mission flashed behind your eyes. The look on his face, his silence. The frustration in your heart began to build on top of eachother until you finally belted out his name in hopes he’d respond. 

“Father!” You shouted. Louder than you’ve ever shouted his name before. It sounded frightful coming from your voice. Like the little girl he was still raising. Like the little girl he rescued. 

You turned the corner and finally spotted him in his office. He was standing with his back towards you, focused on whatever was before him. The room was ablaze. All his papers and paintings peeled black as the fire ate them, and the wood splintered and cracked as it fueled it more. Your father stood tall, no inch of fear or acknowledgment of the chaos around him. Tall and still as he focused on what was before him. You stepped a few paces towards him, and your eyes widened in shock.

For centuries, demons have been a topic of discussion in religious context. Your father told you they were once angelic beings who rebelled against their god, and therefore forced to live in the fiery pits of torturous chaos. That they wandered the earth in hopes to drag down the souls of the unfortunate so that they wouldn't burn alone. Onryo, demons, abandoning their purpose so they make theirs to lead you astray from the path of light and destroy everything you’ve ever known. 

You should have killed this one back when given the chance. 

“Your assignment has found his way to our door.” Your fathers voice was calm and he spoke in a tone like he was just relaying facts. As if his mens blood werent seeping through the floorboards. As if the walls were not burning around you. Catching your breath was difficult for all the smoke, but the smoke didn't stop you from meeting eyes with the demon himself. 

His blue eyes now almost glowing a brighter blue from all the adrenaline possibly running through his veins. His resting scratched up face that once lay in the snow, now covered in more scratches and fresher scars from the fighting it took to get in here. He looked beaten up. He looked vengeful. He looked everything, but ready to back down. 

“What an entrance, don’t you agree?” here he turned his head to look you over. You met eyes with his and warmth ran through you. Though the room around you both was engulfed in flames, his blues eyes were calm. The building was barely standing, and yet he welcomed you home with a simple glance. The anxiousness you had felt before began to melt off of you piece by piece as you were engulfed in his flame of safety and confidence. Home was never this building. Home was your father. 

“There is no time for family reunions. You die tonight.” spoke the demon, his voice raspy and deep as he picked up his blade. You stepped into the room now, rushing to your fathers side. Here you were again except instead of defending your fathers name, you were defending his person. You would die for him in this moment. In any moment. Your face dared the man to step further. You read the determination in his, but behind it lied something else. Something of regret. 

A firm hand reached your shoulder and held it. You felt his thumb stroke your shoulder as his other hand led down your arm, placing a weapon in your hand. You felt the trigger guard in your hand as your fingers became familiar with the gun your father had placed in them. He then began to lift your arm like he had when he was teaching you to use the weapon. You stared down the jaw screw and met eyes with the samurai again who had readied himself for the shot.

The shot that you could not take. 

Memories fought with your body, holding your finger. Sure, if the man had rushed you in this moment you would shoot him without hesitation, but he wasn't. He wasn't moving. He was staring at you with the same look of regret hidden behind determination. The same look you were positive you were wearing as well. You could kill the man who threatened you. You could kill the man who stepped any closer to your father. Could you kill the man who saves others in need? Could you kill the man who saved your life? Who kept you safe when he didn't need to? Why were you hesitating in this moment? Why were you hesitating at all? 

You heard a scoff.

You tore your eyes away from the man to look at your father and a chill ran down your spine. You prided yourself in knowing your father. The emotions he had on display. Sometimes what he could be thinking. No one knew him better than you, but here you couldn't recognize him at all. You couldn't read any emotion on his face. It was expressionless and bare, and words seemed to leave his mouth like an echo in an empty vessel. 

“Stupid girl.”

Next his hand, quick and heavy, covered your face entirely. You were still processing the painful grip of his fingers around your face before the pain of another hard object hit the back of your head. A desk? A wall? You weren't sure. You felt your body fall to the floor and the gun drop from your hand. You began to blink in and out of consciousness. 

His shadow was the only thing that offered shield to your body as he walked over you and towards his next target who now couldn't tear his eyes away from you. You tried to get up, but your body fell weak again. Blood spooled out of your mouth as you coughed and writhed on the heated floor. Your eyelids felt heavy as you tried to keep them open, fearful for what you would meet if you let them shut. 

You heard grunting and a sword slicing the air. You felt the vibrations of the burning wooden planks hitting the ground you lay on. You felt your body ache as you rolled to the side, trying to move and cling onto life still. You felt the warm blood spill from your mouth and pool around your cheek on the floor. You felt an arm. You flinched reflexively. You were scooped up and held tightly and a few paces later you heard footsteps, a broken wood, and felt the cold sensation of fresh air grace your skin.