"Hey, no slouching!" Koga scolded, running a brush through Arisa's hair. She paused mid-stroke upon catching the latter's stubborn scowl in the looking glass. "You can't be making faces like that around Shina-sama. Remember how Hokyū-dono taught you to behave around guests."

Indeed, Shirobana Shina and her entourage had reached Amenoka-jima almost a week prior. She had been formally welcomed by Uzuki Misokatsu at the main shrine several days ago, but it had been decided long beforehand that the Takagishi family at Benigoi Village would host her during her time here. She was set to arrive that very evening, and both Takagishi siblings had rightfully been in quite a state all day, flying about to ensure that the household was in order and – in Koga's case – laying down some ground rules on basic courtesy to any remaining vocal dissidents to the arrangement... one of which was seated before her now, to state the obvious.

"But she isn't a guest," Arisa answered sullenly, playing with one of the decorative tassels on her obi. She continued to eye her own reflection with that vaguely critical air children were accustomed to assuming when projecting their anger to unrelated niceties. Her outfit was brand new, commissioned from Benigoi Village just for this occasion. The set had been hand delivered to the Takagishi residence late last week, wrapped in crepe and a furoshiki – a summer kimono of mulberry fabric with a faint damask patterning, golden sash, a matching fan, and a pristine pair of tabi socks.

It was a beautiful piece, but Arisa certainly didn't enjoy having to don it at that moment. The fabric smelled too stringent and new, felt too stiff and confining against her skin. She felt more like a doll than a girl wearing it. Shiori and Koga's old hand-me-downs were infinitely preferable.

Koga only thinned her eyes. She too was dressed in her best kimono, her makeup applied and hair already done up.

"She is."

"She isn't! She and the Fūgetsu... they're the reason why Suzume was sent away!"

"That isn't true and you know it. Shina-sama shouldn't be blamed for how we chose who to send." The warning in Koga's voice sharpened. "If you have any issues with the hostage selection, then you should bring it up with the lord instead of lashing out at those who hardly deserve it."

The little girl lowered her chin with another childish scoff. Suzume was still a sore subject for her, having departed a little over a month ago – hardly enough time for Arisa to emotionally prepare herself for the arrival of the Fūgetsu clan hostage. The dreaded day had come nonetheless, however – the world was cruel like that, always unheeding in the face of unwelcome change – and now she was expected to deal with it. It felt... no, it was unfair for her to be expected to take it all in stride!

The Fūgetsu had been the ones who'd demanded that Arisa be the one to go to begin with. Had it not been for that, Suzume wouldn't have had to have volunteered. Arisa didn't care what Koga said; as far as she was concerned, this entire nightmare was all their fault.

If she could have things her way, they wouldn't be getting a shred of cordiality from the Uzuki! Wasn't the material support enough?

"Shina-sama is already sacrificing so much for the sake of this alliance, coming all the way over here from the West Blue," Koga continued. She caught Arisa's eye in the mirror. "Think of how lonely she must feel. The least we can do is to welcome her warmly and treat her as well as we want her family to treat Suzume. As a friend, not an enemy."

──────────────────

There was no time to think. To contemplate all the possible repercussions of her snap judgment.

Tears sprang to Megitsune's eyes on command, a ready sob bubbling up her throat. She physically shrank back when Arisa started to approach, but the execution of the motion was so stilted and jerky that her head immediately began to spin a little from the exertion.

She tried to convince herself that that was fine. Everything was fine. The more disoriented she came across, the easier it'd be for her later down the line. If later could even be considered a realistic scenario given the state she was in, that was.

"D-don't...!" she choked out, thrusting out her hands in a defensive gesture. "Please... S-stay away!"

The shock on Arisa's face had melted away into real concern.

Megitsune wanted to throw up.

"Ito, your shoulder –"

"No, stay back!" Her voice grew shrill, nearly heightening to a strangled scream. "Don't touch me!"

Arisa stopped in place. She looked so out of her depth then that for a moment, Megitsune almost dared to foster the ridiculous hope she might be callous enough to back off for good.

But of course not. Unlike her mother before her, it seemed she had a heart after all. How ironic it was, that Megitsune was now in the state to be betting against those odds.

After another moment of hesitation, Arisa drew closer and knelt to be at 'Ito's' level (even as the latter squirmed back against the stone step in a show of fear). She looked over her shoulder, a sharpened sense of urgency carrying over in her voice as she called out:

"Himuro! Over here!"

Himuro.

Even amidst the haze of panic and pain, the significance of that name wasn't lost to Megitsune. She wanted to scream aloud in frustration then.

The situation was already bordering on catastrophic, but it still had the potential to grow far worse.

Under no circumstance could she allow herself to be "rescued" and put in a situation that required her to be searched in any capacity. Not because that carried a substantial risk of being identified by Chiyo or any other potential eyewitnesses to her supposed demise earlier. Not even because any closer examination of her wounds would betray the fact that her vessel was no longer alive....

No, her being unmasked as a Kyōgui was but a trifle compared to the prospect of them recovering the amulets from her – no, 'Ito's' body. Both hers and the fragments she'd managed to snag off of Haimushi.

She couldn't let that happen.

Megitsune would rather die.

"Ito... Hey, Ito. Please stay with me."

Her chin tilted forwards as reality bled back into cruel focus. The plea in Arisa's words was genuine, betraying to Megitsune that her attempts at feigning hysteria were having their desired effect.

Arisa's entire demeanor had grown kind, as if she were appeasing a skittish animal.

"Let me take a look at your arm," she said, starting to lean in.

Megitsune recoiled and curled her shoulders, continuing to muffle her sobs into her hand. It alone was a pathetic strategy, she knew, and as such she had already solidified her decision on the next line of defense.

Her free hand shifted beneath her voluminous sleeves, tremulously wrapping around the blood-speckled handle of the dagger tucked in her sash. Megitsune hadn't given much thought of preserving it once she was done with Haimushi, but now she couldn't be more grateful in doing so. Of course, with her weakened state it was nothing against the likes of the Nightingale's daughter... but that was precisely the thing.

As 'Ito,' Megitsune knew she still had the benefit of the doubt.

"You're losing a lot of blood. We need to –"

Arisa had cut off even before Megitsune had presented the blade, the worry apparent in her features morphing into alarm. Clearly a work of her Haki.

Megitsune felt her gut churn. So the yōgari was much more alert than she was letting on.

She couldn't let her calculations show, anyhow. She had a performance to let on.

"Don't...!" Given her tattered state, she didn't even need to make a pretense of her breath rattling unevenly in her chest. "Just stay back!"

Arisa's eyes slowly moved away from the dagger. Slow, deliberate. Reassessing the situation.

"Ito...? Ito. It's me. Arisa. We met at Hidamari Village. Don't you remember?"

"Of course I remember."

"That's good. You're good." Arisa tentatively reached out. "It's okay, I'm not –"

Megitsune shook her head again and frantically brandished the blade.

"No? Okay. Let's... let's put down the knife, alright? It's fine. See?" She held up both palms. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"No..." Megitsune choked out a sob, knuckles blanching over the handle. "Y-you and...! You and Shiori-san. You're with her, aren't you?"

"What do you...?"

"She t-tried to kill him. Waka-sama. You know that? She did it. I... I saw her do it!"

"Ito, that's not –"

"And you want the same, right?" The blubbering mess that she was, Megitsune could only hope that her performance came across as unhinged and nonsensical as it was necessary to delay the inevitable. She scrambled further back with wild eyes, waving the knife wildly when Arisa attempted to speak up again. "D-don't lie to me, traitor! I know you do! You were with her, after all!"

"I –..." Arisa trailed off helplessly, then tried again. "Ito, listen to me. Please. Can you tell me what happened? Did you run over here from Yuzu-gawa?"

"Arisa!"

Megitsune felt another jolt in her chest as rapid footsteps sounded from around the corner. A young man came running up next to Arisa, his face pale and drawn beneath a shock of bright orange hair. He froze like a deer at gunpoint when he saw the weapon clenched in her grasp.

"Himuro," Arisa said, her voice level. She kept her eyes fixed to Megitsune. "Stay back for now."

"Is that...?" Himuro swallowed. "Hey, are you okay?"

Megitsune pressed further back against the slab and only stared at him, the blade starting to shake in her grip. Her breathing was growing shallower beyond her control, and the pain in her skull was deepening.

"Is your Transponder Snail still working?" Arisa was saying in a hushed voice.

"I think so..."

"You need to call Kushii."

No...

Himuro assented with a brief nod, wincing as his eyes swept back over to Megitsune. His pale, gaunt features suddenly warped as her vision wavered. Feeling another unfamiliar pulse beneath her skin, she sank her teeth into her tongue and swallowed thickly to avoid gagging. Another wave of fear rose.

It's getting worse.

The patches beneath her kimono were starting to fester and swarm; Megitsune could feel every scintilla of that terrifying progression. She fixed her stare beyond Himuro's shoulder and listened for her nonexistent heartbeat.

In that moment, it was all she could do to remain coherent.

"God," the Seer was saying, digging out his miniature Transponder Snail. "Look at her shoulder..."

"I know. We need to get her back as soon as possible." Arisa must have turned back to Megitsune, given by the sound of her voice. "Ito...? Ito, stay with me."

'Ito' barely paid heed. It was so much easier to focus somewhere beyond this rotting corpse of hers. Beyond them both. She looked at the gray, roiling waves of the Grand Line – faintly visible in the gap between two sagging huts – with dark, shapeless shadows ever-shifting beneath. Yes... the ocean. Always moving. Always alive. She'd forgotten its proximity, its magnitude. The power contained within, and how small and insignificant this horrid island seemed in comparison.

She wished she could breathe in the salt carried in the air. Feel the wind stirring the trees behind her.

It would have reminded her of home.

"It's too dangerous here." Arisa's voice sounded so distant now. Megitsune would have preferred it that way. "He won't pick up?"

"Yeah. Dunno what's wrong with it. Could be a Horned Snail blocking the signal..." Himuro groaned. "Damn it! At the possible worst time, too."

Something was moving in the ocean, or maybe in the foreground of it. Darting about. Barely noticeable. She... she wanted to reach out and touch it.

"Do we need to move?"

But Megitsune didn't want to move anymore. She'd done so, so much already. Now she just wanted to rest.

Her mind was wandering now to a dangerous extent – she was aware of that, but she was beyond caring now. She wanted to stay here forever. She wanted to study that thing moving in the distance. Bring it closer, figure it out...

That at least would hurt less than having to reside here in this broken body.

"Maybe. Can she even walk?"

"I don't think so. We'll have to figure out a way to –"

Her vision swam. Whatever it was, she'd liked to have imagined that it was moving closer and closer...

She thought she heard a faint whizz in the air. And then everything went black for a second.

When Megitsune came to, she was lying flat on her back – gaping to the skies and suddenly a thousand times more alert than Haimushi's abilities had previously rendered her.

Her fingers twitched against the rubble. Once, twice... and that was when she finally felt the pain. Waves of it, sheer and raw and throbbing – so visceral that she was almost convinced that this body might have revived from its heated intensity. She coughed once, and immediately felt the old blood start to burble up her throat. Its acrid taste clung to her tongue – stale and slippery and disgusting enough to make her stomach flip.

Jaw hanging lax, she turned her head and distantly heard a wet splatter as she began to heave uncontrollably.

The high-pitched ringing in her ears was back, and her eyesight felt strangely off-kilter, the sky swimming above her in a vaguely dusky spiral. How ugly was her first conscious thought – exactly what she was referring to, even she could scarcely tell – before she felt her limbs seize up and began to vomit until she was utterly spent.

Another faint hiss registered overhead, followed by a deafening crash in the background, the ground beneath her reverberating with the force. Then again. And yet again.

Disoriented as she was, that told her enough.

She had woken in the midst of a newly minted battlefield.

Megitsune forced her eyes open to pained slits and rolled over. She took in the ruins around her. It was hard to tell how far she'd been thrown back in the initial blow, with most of the buildings she could have used as a reference now reduced to rubble.

A blow of this magnitude... Megitsune felt another stab of fear. Oh God, kill me now. This could only be...!

The ground shook again, nearly hard enough to send her sprawling forwards again. Dragging herself up to her knees, she heard another series of explosive crashes, the last accompanied by a dense plume of dust as another nearby structure abruptly crumpled and caved into itself.

A small dark streak suddenly blurred into view from the wreckage, followed by another larger shadowy form.

Murasaki Arisa's frantic blue eyes had latched back to Megitsune's for barely a split second before Mukade was upon her again. He twisted midair to land a Haki-imbued kick to the yōgari's side. The blow was powerful enough to cast visible shockwaves of energy rippling through the air and send her flying out of sight without much ceremony – presumably into another building, judging by the deafening crash that resounded shortly afterwards.

Mukade shot Megitsune a knowing grin before lunging in after his quarry. The frank innocence of that expression only added to the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

Watching on, she felt like her head was about to explode.

You...! You really think you're helping, don't you?

And from Mukade's point of view perhaps he truly was. Maybe he'd been spying from afar when Arisa and Himuro had come across Megitsune, had misinterpreted the dagger in her hand to mean that they were antagonizing her.

But to react this recklessly...? Even considering the original plan, directly engaging now would only hasten their exposure as Kyōgui. Megitsune had known Mukade to be a battle junkie... but was he that desperate for his fix? In the middle of a mission as important as this?

Was he lucid?

Maybe Haimushi's claims weren't as unfounded as she'd thought...

Megitsune spat out another spool of blood and scrambled to her feet without much further ado, stumbling slightly as her head spun from the exertion. Another crash sounded, this time further back behind her, followed by cracks of splintering wood as several trees were felled upon impact.

The two combatants were moving so quickly it was impossible to track who was who, much less who even had the upper hand.

As far as she could tell, though, the Nightingale's daughter hadn't resorted to her spectral abilities yet. Neither had Mukade changed forms.

That was when it suddenly dawned over to Megitsune. Perhaps this might have been his angle all along. Haimushi had once mentioned that unlike most of their other peers, Mukade fought chiefly for enjoyment rather than sustenance. To him, long, painstaking battles were a reward in and of itself. He liked to toy with his prey at the cost of time and efficiency (much to the disapproval of some like Haimushi or, at times, Masabe-sama), intentionally drawing out battles with even objectively weaker yōgari just to satisfy his own curiosity regarding the specifics to their spectral abilities.

Murasaki Arisa had faced him in the past and had lost... and the fact that she was still alive today could be attributed to Masabe-sama's so-called mercy, if Mukade's own recounting of events held any weight.

Could it be that he harbored any resentment regarding that intervention? He'd seemed dismissive enough about it the night before, but...

Maybe he saw her as unfinished business. Maybe that was why he'd accepted this mission to begin with.

Or maybe it wasn't even that, but instead a snap judgment. The result of an opportunity that was simply too good to let up. Her being the only yōgari on scene could have been just a strong enough justification for him to engage. Modern yōkai hunters typically fought Kyōgui in pairs after all, as the limitations on their spectral ability usage ensured that yōkai would have an upper hand otherwise.

Arisa had managed to get a hold of her weapon during one of the intermittent lulls in the fight – just in time to parry another barrage of blows as Mukade lunged in again. The force carried in the final strike was deflected outwards in a small explosion of crackling violet energy – a sure sign she'd started channeling Kyōki. But still, for whatever reason, no sign of any spectral wielding.

Knowing Mukade, she didn't have much time left to clue in on the fact that she was being too careful for her own good. That her hesitation would only hasten her demise.

Megitsune caught the look on the yōkai hunter's face before she lunged at Mukade, before both their movements devolved into indistinguishable blurs once more. She wasn't sure if she had been expecting anything different, given their shared history, but the expression was almost boring in its familiarity – an almost unnerving blankness, all emotion siphoned away in favor of total focus. She'd seen it worn by countless other hunters in the past.

Mukade looked completely relaxed in comparison. Almost gleeful in his control.

Again, Megitsune found herself wondering how long Arisa would last against him. Whether she'd keep that same stoic composure at death's door...

Her fingers curled tighter and tighter around the dagger handle.

No. She needed to think.

This was a major complication to her plans, and she still needed to figure out a way to spin this situation to her favor.

Against all her best efforts, however, her vision continued to spot and swirl. She was starting to grow dangerously light headed too.

If only that idiot hadn't been so indiscriminate with his first attack...!

Just like she had with Haimushi, Megitsune had been planning to sneak a surprise attack on Mukade. That was the only realistic way she could hope to blindside him long enough to take his amulet.

Seeing the state she was in now, though, there was no way in hell she was going to pull that off...

...unless someone else were to do most of the dirty work for her.

There was no way for Murasaki Arisa to survive this ordeal. She was alone... not to mention her opponent was Mukade. Still, Megitsune figured she would put up a good final fight; she wasn't the Nightingale's daughter for nothing. That in itself could provide a good distraction.

A single opportunity was all that was needed. Just one moment off guard...

Megitsune figured she could count on it happening. If not during the fight then right afterwards, when surely he would be preoccupied with the body. When was the last time that fool had eaten, anyways?

She licked her lips, tasting blood, and held the dagger closer to her chest. In the meantime, she could keep herself busy.

The first order of business was to find and silence that cowardly Seer for good.

──────────────────

Arisa was almost convinced that this was all a dream. Finding Ito alive was enough of a low odds scenario; maybe she should've taken that for a sign.

But not even the most blatant of warnings could have prepared her for whatever this was.... and to call it hell would be a gross understatement.

Mukade had changed little over the six years both in his presentation and demeanor. He still wore that same wolfish grin, sported the same knot of scar tissue mottling his cheek. Still effortlessly masked the true extent of his cruelties beneath that carefree guise, throwing himself headlong into battles as if they were lighthearted games.

By all appearances, he came off completely human – and inexplicably, that was his most unnerving quality, though most would fail to understand without being stricken with the curse of extended interaction.

Arisa knew the truth. How she wished she didn't, at times.

He was still every bit the monster who'd haunted her nightmares for years after the Sabaody incident. A man who, without so much blinking an eye, may as well have hand delivered three young girls to their deaths, bringing them under the mercies of a sadistic psychopath.

And he was still every bit as strong.

Move. That was the only command that registered now. Isolated from his Haki and yōkai abilities, Mukade's strengths lay in his inhuman speed and endurance.

To linger – even to contemplate – was to die.

She had long surrendered herself to the trappings of impulse and instinct. Her surroundings had devolved into a shapeless blur; indeed, a near uncontrollable speed was the bare minimum that was required to dodge his blows. That much, she'd managed to internalize from the first time.

The main concern now was the question of his presence. The notable lack of it, more precisely.

Because unlike last time, Arisa had no way of discerning his aura or reading his movements. She didn't know if that was a result of her panic clouding her Observation or what, and it terrified her. What was even more puzzling was that he didn't seem to be too occupied with reading her signature either. That could be considered a relief, since that meant they were on (mostly) equal footing with respect to their Observation... but it was so bizarre that only served to disconcert her further.

There was barely any time for her to rebound from her landing on a nearby eave before he was upon her again, one Armament-coated leg clashing against the flat of her blade with a splitting crack. Arisa twisted away, barely noting the harsh jar of impact to her frame as her feet made purchase with the uneven brick shingles of an adjacent roof. She was already turning to counter another one of his strikes as he lunged after her. This time, she'd made enough distance to retaliate, garnering enough leeway for her to hit him with a pulse of Kyōki of her own in an attempt to deflect his blow back to him.

He ate the attack like it was nothing.

Arisa almost wished to laugh at herself. Maybe she was starting to go a bit crazy. She had long since lost track of time, anyhow – perhaps reality would be soon to follow. Beyond the immediacy of her own survival, the world had devolved into complete oblivion. She didn't know if Ito was still alive, or whether Himuro had managed to get away and raise the alarm –

"You've gotten faster since then, I'll give you that." Mukade's voice sent her hurtling back to the present. The mockery embedded in his words reminded her exactly who she was up against. What he had done... no, would do to her. "Come on... Still not saying anything?"

Arisa gritted her teeth – muscles reacting on instinct as he moved in again, adrenaline screaming. Double strike. She distinctly felt the air ripple against her left cheek as she evaded both, leaping to another rooftop in time to see the old building crumple into itself from the force of the attack.

Mukade remained glued to her heels, clearly unwilling to grant her even a second of respite. He began laughing aloud as they continued to exchange more blows.

"Still so reluctant? So that's one thing that hasn't changed. What a shame."

Arisa felt her insides clench. The familiar tint of blood flooded her senses. She knew exactly what he was after. What he was counting on her to do, sooner or later.

And the prospect of it terrified her more than it had six years ago.

Mukade sneered as if he'd read her thoughts.

"Have some perspective, Chidori-chan. This is the only choice you have left. May as well make the best of it, don't you think? Go out with some dignity –"

She struck back, Kagerō singing through the air. He dodged the slashes easily.

"That was dirty! Cutting me off like that..." Mukade trailed off, his body jerking slightly upon alighting, almost as if by reflex. A look of confusion flitting over his features, he reached down to touch his side.

A small geyer of blood had erupted from a spot below his ribs, the blood spreading into a growing dark splotch against the folds of his kimono.

Breathing hard, Arisa slowly lowered Kagerō. Her free hand fell away to reveal an empty slot on the handguard where one of her kōgai needles used to reside.

His expression unflinching, Mukade gouged his fingers into the wound and tore out the needle. The entire length had been embedded, and it came out slick with blood.

He looked at it for a moment before meeting her gaze.

Then he tilted his head and flashed an unsettling grin.

──────────────────

Polar Tang

Operating Room #1

"Azarashi, loupe."

"Yes, Captain –"

Everyone froze in alarm as the floor beneath them began to tremble and rock gently, the instruments around them rattling noisily in their respective racks. It was as if the entire vessel had been perturbed by shockwaves from some foreign impact on the surface.

Being as unaccustomed as he was to submarines, Shiro would have liked to have chalked it up to standard underwater turbulence. But Azarashi's look of alarm told him otherwise.

"...again?" Tsubu muttered. He glanced up at the ceiling. "Is something going on out there?"

Shiro gulped, fighting back that sense of foreboding that nagged at the back of his mind.

"Maybe one of those catfish came too close?" he guessed hopefully.

Law looked annoyed.

"Call the control room."

"Yes sir!"

Azarashi hastened over to the wall Transponder Snail and set to work adjusting the settings. Law didn't bother to raise his attention from the surgical site as he addressed the other end of the line.

"Hakugan. Anything to report on the surface?"

The helmsman's voice presently sounded past the Snail's lips, crackling with static.

"Er... There is, actually."

There was an unusual gravity to his voice that drew everyone's attention. Law paused and looked up, frowning in alarm.

"What is it?"

"...the part timer. I think she's in a lot of trouble."

I've started another book where I'll be posting in-universe oneshots related to this series. It is up on my profile, titled Skeleton Key.  A two-parter have been published so far -- it is a noncanon / AU scenario, though it can be taken as a general teaser for how I plan to write Law and Arisa's dynamic going forwards. Fair warning, It does contain an upcoming spoiler for this arc though I won't be stating what exactly it is. :)

Now with that shameless plug out of the way... As always, thank you for reading -- you guys don't know how restless I am to finish this arc! ^^

-shiba