Senhime was more than ready to take on Sho's entire group if need be, but he apparently had other ideas. The moment the female tsukitsuji - Akemi, Senhime recalled - took out a pouch and threw it to the ground, Senhime moved on instinct. "<i>Kekkai</i>." She whispered, thrusting a paper tag in front of her. An ethereal barrier flashed into existence, but only for a moment, before dispelling. She had intended for it to catch the brunt of any explosions, but instead...smoke? She frowned. They were trying to get away. Kamaitachi was already covering the exits in and out of the room, so where would Sho...<br/><br/>Senhime's thoughts were answered by an explosion. Her arm covered her face as wooden splinters flew around the room, covering the floor in dust. As the smoke began to clear, the moon shone through the sizeable hole in the ceiling, clearly leaving a path for any pursuers to follow. Were they trying to bait her into a trap? Or just retreating? Senhime took the opportunity to take stock of the situation. The assailants had escaped. The explosion had caused some of the attendees to stir, but they weren't her main goal anymore. The others could see to them. The daimyo was still unharmed, and the barrier over Yukinojo ensured he hadn't been hit by any stray debris.<br/><br/>"Senhime." Daimyo Nakamura's low voice called to her. Senhime walked over to him and went to one knee. He held out a sword to her.<i>His</i>sword. "Pursue them." Senhime bowed deeper, and accepted the blade wordlessly. The daimyo's personal blade was known as<i>Onikiri</i>, a sword that had seen him through his conquest and ended the lives of countless enemies: nobles, samurai, and peasants alike. And yet, the blade wasn't one to dull or need sharpening. As Senhime held it in her hands, the katana was heavier than she expected, and her fingers felt a maliciousness emanating from within the sheath. It wasn't uncommon for blades to attract spirits and the like, especially ones that had seen suffering. This was, perhaps, just a sign of how powerful her liege was. Senhime rose, and slid the sword into the sash of her kimono, the black-red of the sheath and grip contrasting with the light emerald of her clothes.<br/><br/>Sho's voice boomed out, trying to gall her into pursuit. He'd likely laid a trap and was possibly waiting in ambush. Senhime placed a hand on the sword's pommel, thinking through her options as she gazed upwards, at the silvery moon. She still had the scroll, which would likely be her most powerful asset. But, she'd need to weaken him first. And what of his allies? There would likely be other Tsukitsuji agents waiting with him. But her liege was watching. Kamaitachi was watching. There could be no hesitation, not in the face of another test. The daimyo had seen fit to grant her his sword. What she had would need to be enough. She drew out three paper tags, crushed them in her hand, and then breathed upon them. They folded and twisted, tearing themselves into almost human-like shapes, only an inch tall each. Shikigami like this wouldn't help her much in direct combat, but they were more than capable of observation and acting as her eyes and ears. Two dropped off her hand immediately, one staying in the room and another exiting, heading outside. The last one perched on her shoulder.<br/><br/>Senhime leapt up to the hole in the ceiling, her hands catching the ledge, and quickly pulled herself up onto the roof, staying low. The third shikigami dropped down, and scurried off to a better vantage point. Her eyes only saw Sho, but there could easily be others lying in wait. He seemed more than ready. His eyes glowed the same green she had seen earlier, so he had obviously set something up. There were a few birds around, quite a few insects...which of them would he be possessing now?<br/><br/>She stood, her knees bent slightly. Both hands were clasped together in front of her, the sleeves of her kimono covering them. The silk flowed and shifted in the wind, but the rest of her was entirely still - deathly so. Her hair has tightly bound in far too many pins and combs, and her face sold no emotion underneath the makeup. Between her fingers, she held a few different paper slips - some for barriers, some for anti-spirit enchantments. The blade at her side rattled in it's sheath. Her shikigami relayed back to her different sensations - from the courtyard, to the room below, to the roof she was on now. Senhime simply waited for something or someone to move.