Chunyang dropped the sultry illusion that wrapped her body like the glove of reality.  Like the man who had whisked them to another time in but the blink of an eye, so too did Chunyang's pretty illusion leave her.  In her place once more was the girl wrapped in a pale lavender silk gi, the black netting beneath holding back her bosom as they floated atop her armored waist corset.  The severity of her hair pulled back in a single tail, the red ribbon with silent bells.    Only locks of log white tendrils that framed her face softened the hard look of Norther glaciers in her eyes.  Sleeves full and draping covered her hands.  Sadly, she looked as a wet dream for an anime nerd.  Only known by Yurei, manga was one of her few vices.  One picked up slaying a target who chose to hide in a comic shop.<br/><br/>She listened to the man, who looked an acted a god.  So presumptuous to think that he could beat them.  What bothered her was the lack of information.  They said the target was powerful.  They said to be wary.  They did not say he had enough power to take them out of time.  She tilted her head...slightly and the bells tinkled, so softly.  She frown, just a dip of the corner of her mouth.  She looked to Yurei, who stepped from the unseen but still armored in her shadows.  They were trained for this moment.  She had been told by her Masters that the day would come when they must fulfill a destiny.  That the world was not safe as long as the demons walked the earth.<br/><br/><em>The symphony of metallic sound filled the air.  Blood crept to the corner of her eye and she blinked away the annoyance before it could obscure her sight.  She had no time to wipe at it.  She swirled in a wicked desperate dance as she deflected the deluge of blades that came for her. Spinning in fury, her heart rate jacking like a rabbit, she dodged and flipped, as her mind processed it all in a slow motion.  It was called "Dancing Between Raindrops".  To stop was a painful death that would end with her a pincushion.  <br/><br/>She weaved and danced, edging closer to her opponent.  Sweat dripped down her back and between her breasts, the fabric of her gi sticking to her body.  Still she protected herself, despite the myriad of cuts along her body.  Her clothing, shredding from the onslaught of sharp edges.  A stab of pain as a dagger buried itself in the meat of her shoulder but she continued on as if it was not there, her only acknowledgement a grunt.  Even as the blade moved in her shoulder, cutting more and more, she danced on.  She didn't know when, but her arm hung useless and she pressed on.  One dagger in her hand, moving faster than the mind could follow.  Steel ringing and spinning away from her.  Desperate anger and a final wail of keening triumph as she closed the distance as more stabs of pain ignored.  But she had done it.  She leaned into the Master's body, her blade at the stern man's throat.<br/><br/>He stood as if she were doing nothing more than serving tea.  He slapped her face, her body weakened by the pain and her vigorous need to survive.  She fell to the ground hand clenched tight around the hilt of her blade, anger burning like hoarfrost in her eyes.  "Failure!  How do you expect to survive if your target can beat you down.  You let yourself be wounded.  You must dance and not get hit."<br/><br/>Her face stung.  His words stung.  She wanted to kill him.  He was one of them, it was what had kept her going through the whole ordeal.  His death would please her but she kept it locked away.  One day perhaps but until then, she would be a dutiful warrior.  Until the time came.</em><br/><br/>Had the time come?  Temptation battled with her duty and loyalties.  Her heart still held to her silent vow.  If Yurei knew of it, then she kept it to herself.  "We do not choose.  We are chosen.  You speak only in words.  You try and impress us with your magicks.  We are not impressed.  There are no words that you might tempt us.  Nothing you can offer.  We are two and you are one.  Even a giant must fall.  Harken to the bells tolling your death."<br/><br/>A blade as sharp and silver as her tongue slid from her hand, the gold jeweled hilt glinting in the low light.  A hand reached for her sister, fingertips touching.  If they were to die, she would have that touch go with her.