It was supposed to have been a simple C-rank mission. They were to rendezvous at noon the following day to escort a foreign nobleman back to his home village. Tsuyoi grimaced as he forced his sword out the samurai’s back which resulted in a sickening squelch. “Not so simple anymore,” he muttered.
“Hm?” Kuriko grunted in question as she too forced her weapon out of a particularly stubborn tree branch. She staggered back, breathing heavily at her efforts.
“It’s nothing.” Tsuyoi wiped his brow with the back of his hand, glaring at the small mass of bodies. He huffed, shoulders slumping as he dug his hands into his coat pocket, withdrawing a small rag. Taking his sword in one hand, he wrapped the cloth around the base of the blade and smoothly wiped away the remaining blood and grime in one stroke before sheathing it.
Kuriko smiled thinly at him as she sat on one of the many small boulders that decorated the edge of the forest path. Sighing s