Tournament Announcement ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Kim-Moon-Sung Market, Taegu, Neo South Korea Aarin strode through Kim-Moon-Sung Market with a grateful smile on his face. To think, it had only been two months or so since he first came here. That was the day at which he had purchased his current sword; the blade that had been known to him as ‘Wind Soul'. After the Old Master of the Yuuga School ordered his graduates to leave and explore the world, one of the first things that Aarin did was to find a blade that would suit him. At the time; he had been using a weapon that was given to him before he left Neo-England. It was called the Crystal Maiden. And though he was grateful for the blade, it did not suit his needs or his style. For one thing it was too heavy for such a short blade. Aarin's training didn't compensate for such weight. Something to be worked on for the future. But then, all that Aarin was interested in was a sword that fitted him like a glove. And so he left Crystal Maiden as another addition to his weapons collection. From that point on, Aarin made it a personal quest to find a sword that suited him to the best possible result. During his travels across the world, Aarin heard tales of a market in Neo South Korea that sold extremely powerful weapons. It took many months of searching but he did at last find it. That Market was this one. Kim-Moon-Sung. And eventually, Aarin found exactly what he wanted. The mysterious blade, Wind Soul. It was a sword that did just what he wanted, suiting him to fullest. In truth, Aarin felt great pleasure in coming back here. This market was special to him in some ways. Full of vibrant people and large stalls, packed with all sorts of goods that you'd have to search the world over to find. Not least of which were weapons. But also other items. Like foods, jewellery, clothing, and ancient keepsakes. All were rare and all were sold at extreme prices. But these items could also be traded for, which led to heated debates, bargaining and bidding wars between prospective buyers. Thankfully the people in this region were quiet peaceful and friendly. Which was, to be honest, a stern surprise to Aarin. This was not a world that the ordinary person could adjust to easily. Especially if you were old enough to remember what the world was like before the landing of the Genesis Comet. Aarin's sky blue eyes looked around from one side to the other. He was draped fully in a large white cloak, keeping most of his body from view. There was no real reason to conceal himself from anyone, these people were not hostile towards foreigners, but Aarin made a point to keep as discrete as possible. Not everyone walked around with a sword at their waist. The Neo-Englishman walked up to a certain stall at the edge of this pathway. A couple of other buyers stood beside him and admired the stock as he did. So Aarin tried to block out the sounds of the people around while doing this. It was an Armour Store. The kind that sold armour to people like Aarin, people who had taken up the sword. He was one of the few Safe-Zone dwellers who was legally allowed to carry weapons inside of a Safe Zone. Mostly because of the influence his family had in the Neo-English Safe Zone. But most people didn't know of that rule so tended to be threatened by those who walked around with swords in plain sight. Aarin scanned through the links of armour that was on display. All of it seemed rich in design, mixing metals and fabrics, but none looked defensively worth their prices. Which was a shame. He actually liked some of the gear there. Very nice and exotic. "Aaaaagghhhh!" The two people standing beside Aarin, and the shopkeeper himself, looked over to the other side of the market as they heard a rather loud scream from a young girl. Aarin didn't bother with it, not caring much. Across from them, beside a stall that sold fruits, there was a youthful woman. Korean, about 19 in age. Really very beautiful. A trait that had been observed by others as well. Two punks, roughly dressed and lacking in all the good graces; latched onto the girl and grinned deviously at her rolling curves as she struggled to break free. The girl continually screamed ‘help me, help me!' and many of the surrounding folks wanted to; but backed off in the instant that they saw that the punks were armed. Under the leather of their dirty jackets were knives, sharp enough to gut a fish with a single stroke. Violence was common in this world. But people were equally fearful of it. And the consumers of Kim-Moon-Sung Market were no different. One of the leather-clad ruffians tightened his grip on the girl's thin wrist. "Stop screwing around you little bitch! You should be happy! It ain't every girl that gets to swallow my seed, eh?" "Yeah!" The other one chortled, flicking his knife out, "Quit squirming and come with us or I'll jam my little friend here down your eye!" The other punk looked out into the surrounding crowds. "And if anyone wants to die today by taking us on then feel free! I haven't spilt fresh blood in ages!" While Aarin ignored the fuss, the stall owner shook his head sadly and questioned the situation to himself. "My word. This is the forth time those to two have done this to a girl in the market. Can't somebody do something about those juveniles?" It wasn't until the girl said ‘please... help me...' in that desperate tone that Aarin took notice. He hated that sound. The sound of a woman being forced into something she wanted no part of. And although the Englishman didn't like to get involved in concerns that were not his business, he wasn't so heartless to turn his back on a defenceless woman's plight. Aarin growled to himself, making up his mind. And while those street scum continued to harass the girl, Aarin marched slowly through the ‘aisles' of the market until he reached the crowds that had formulated around them. One of the punks continued to sneer, until he saw a figure covered in a cloak, appear from the rumbling crowds. "Hey man!" The young thug barked, "Wanna get killed? Take one more step and I'll slice you into bits! Understand me!?" Aarin pulled down the hood of his cloak, revealing his face. The other punk grinned at the sight of him. "A foreigner, eh? Walking around in our lands with that stupid superior scowl on his face. Show some respect to the natives, you white bastard! This is our country! We don't need your type here!" "Hmm," Aarin kept his face as cold as stone, but his tone of voice was far more sarcastic and amused, "You might want to evaluate the reactions you and I get. I might be from another land but I respect people in all due fashion. And I will not give respect to men who disrespect a woman's right to say no, regardless of their race. So I'll give you two choices. You can either release the girl peacefully and submit yourselves to the nearest police department; or one of you will lose a hand." "Caucasian meddler!" One of the punk yelled at Aarin, flicking out his knife, "I didn't want to stain my knife today! But this little item is calling out to be drowned in your oozing foreign blood!" Without warning, the young thug charged at Aarin, leading in with the knife ahead of him. Aarin grit his teeth and sharply shot his hand down towards his waist, beneath the folds of his cloak. His hand gripped at the hilt of Wind Soul and stayed in that position. The punk grinned as he came at Aarin and the crowds watched on. Aarin's feet suddenly started moving. He rushed forwards to meet with the attacker and gave a swift battle cry drawing his sword instantly. There was a flash of momentum as the two attacks met and reacted to each other. Aarin skidded forwards, stopping in a crouched position, then stood upright. The punk was now behind him. With his smile gone and a haunted look in his eyes. The ruffian looked behind his shoulder to Aarin. "...T-That's a Japanese sword style... b-but how could a... westerner like you know of..." "Is my style really your biggest concern now?" Well that comment didn't make much sense. That was until he looked down at his hand. The young punk felt a searing pain run around the length of his wrist. And he understood why. There was a slash mark around his wrist. And it soon started to turn red. But the results went deeper than that. "AAAGH!" The thug screamed in agony as his hand and the knife fell from his arm. Blood splattered over the stone of the ground in small puddles as the boy fell to the ground, gripping his wound. The crowds around all gasped in shock. The foreigner had sliced off the youth's hand in a single stroke! And yet he didn't seem the least bit stressed by it. Aarin ignored the now one-handed boy and turned his attentions to the other thug and the girl he was still holding. He sheathed Wind Soul, which now was stained with blood. "...If you let her go, I won't do the same to you." "Screw you!" The punk poised his knife at the girl's neck, "Come a step closer and I'll slit this little bitch's throat!" Aarin scowled at him. "You coward! Stop hiding behind threats and do the right thing for once in your pathetic life. You have nothing to prove and you know full well I could kill you without a second thought. Now drop the knife!" The thug was reluctant. After all, if he dropped his weapon, he would be defenceless. But even with the knife, this foreigner was more than a match for him. The young kid gave a nervous grimace then dropped the knife on the ground. He proceeded to shove the girl out of his way and charge through the crowds, obviously hoping to escape capture by the proper authorities. Aarin released the breath he didn't know he had been holding. What a coward. He even left his wounded friend behind. Not that Aarin really gave a damn. The Englishman turned to one of the members of the now talkative crowd. "You there." The young man that Aarin looked at, pointed to himself. "M-Me...?" "Yes you," Aarin then looked down at the one-handed guy, "Take this idiot to an infirmary so they can reattach his hand. I'm sure he's learned his lesson by now." And in reply, the guy nodded to Aarin. "Y-Yes sir." At least that was over with. Aarin dusted off his cloak then put his hood back up. So much for low profile. Now it looked like everyone in the market was terrified of him. While the guy Aarin talked to helped up the wounded punk, the young woman who had been held by those two walked forwards. There were tears in her eyes, her clothing was now ripped and dirty, but her expression showed deep gratitude. And a little fear. In spite of everything, a westerner who can slice off the hand of human being with one swift blow was not the kind of guy you approached lightly. The girl lowered her head. "T-Thank you, sir... I... don't know what to say... to you..." Aarin looked away, harshly. It didn't take much for this girl to realize that Aarin Highland wasn't much of a 'people person'. "You shouldn't bother thanking me. I just couldn't stand the amount of noise they were making." Still, she was grateful. The girl tidied herself up a bit, thanked Aarin again, and slowly slinked back to her stall. Apparently she owned the fruit stall that those punks had stood in front of. Or at least worked there. From that point, the crowds began to fade away and go back to their own duties, although keeping an eye on Aarin. From both awe and fear. The young Englishman was just about to do the same, until he turned around and saw a short middle-aged man standing ahead of him. Aarin narrowed his eyes. "...Can I help you...?" "Those were some fancy sword skills you displayed there!" The man said cheerfully, "You have to be one of the best western swordfighters I have ever seen! I bet you don't get too many challenges with your level of skill, eh?" "...Maybe..." That was actually true. The only person that had given Aarin a challenging fight was his friend and rival, Setsuya Seisuji, "But what does that have to do with you?" The middle-aged man went into his pocket and fished out something. It was a small leaflet, shaped like a passport between Safe-Zones. He brandished it before the younger man from the foreign land. "This might interest you even if my words do not. A Tournament. For weapons masters just like you. It's quite rare as well. The first tourney of its kind. It's called Ten Sekai Sentou Kyousou. I think you have what it takes to win." Aarin crossed his arms under his cloak. "Maybe I can, maybe I can't. The question is; what would I have to gain from entering this tournament?" "Money?" The man suggested, "Fame? Or perhaps something more. You can use the tournament in any way you want. To find better challenges, to improve your abilities or even settle old rivalries. It's your call." Aarin took note of that last suggestion. The settling of a rivalry... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Highland Mansion, Manchester, Neo-England "Geh, heh, heh, heh! Ingrid, you get better with every stroke!" Roundsman slapped his stomach and grinned, watching his apprentice go to work. He didn't come to this section of Manchester very often, but he loved watching Ingrid improve herself. With the skills that she had learned under his instruction. Ingrid learned quickly. Her technique was rough and unpolished a few months ago. Now Ingrid was honing her skills and coming close to the high goals that she had set for herself. Roundsman could see that Ingrid expected more of her body than it might out rightly look capable of. But in truth; he could see that she would reach her objectives. Eventually. Until that time she had to keep practicing and training. Nothing else would help her get better at swordplay. Ingrid shifted over the trimmed olive grass below her. As both of her small hands gripped the smooth hilt of Lightning Tooth, Ingrid gave a feminine cry and strode forwards, thrusting the sword at no particular target. She pulled back, her sunflower yellow dress swaying at her feet. She had opted not to wear her armour today. It slowed her down too much, really. And now that her master, Roundsman, was here; Ingrid wanted to do her best. To show off all the skills that she had learned from him. Pretty soon she would need those skills. With one final slash, Ingrid lowered her blade. By now she had full control of it. It was still a great task to master such a weapon, but Ingrid Highland had successfully mastered this beast of a sword. The girl scratched her forehead. Her face was actually starting to itch from all the sweat it had been gathering. She had never worked so hard in her life. Which was a surprise to the people who had known her all her life. Because it was no secret that Ingrid Highland was a bit spoilt. Not surprising though. She was brought up in a very rich family that existed in a damaged world. There was very little she couldn't get. Such a circumstance was bound to spoil someone. Ingrid rolled her eyes and turned around to face her master, taking in breath. "...How... was that... Master Roundsman...?" Roundsman held a hand to his chin. "Bloody excellent. Not many women pick up such skills with the blade so easily. Not too many men either. But I am worried about something with regards to your efforts." A problem? "...W-What is it, Master...?" "It's that sword of yours," Old Roundsman took a gander at Lightning Tooth, which hung down loosely in Ingrid's right hand, "It's a real beauty. But obviously harder for you to control than the others I thought might be good for you." "Are you saying I shouldn't use it?" Ingrid questioned. The older man shook his head. "No, nothing like that, my girl. But remember what I taught you about weaponry. Always use the weapon that you feel most comfortable with. Not every weapon is suited to every fighter." Ingrid looked at the gleam of the Lightning Tooth. "I know. But I need the power of this sword. It is special. Just like that sword that Aarin used. I will not stand a chance against him if I do not have a blade that can match his." Roundsman took note of the determination in Ingrid's eyes. "Beating your brother in combat is rather important to you isn't it, little one?" "Yes," She replied, "Aarin was far more skilled than me the last time we saw each other. Now he has gone back to Japan. But I will be ready for him the next time we meet. If I can beat Aarin then I will set myself a path straight to becoming the greatest swordswoman on Earth." From hearing that, Roundsman laughed to himself. "You've always been an ambitious one, Ingrid Highland! If your heart and skill are as strong as your words then you'll no doubt become the greatest swordswoman on Earth." It was Ingrid's true goal at the heart of everything. To become the greatest swordswoman on the face of the earth. Beating Aarin was another of her desires. But it tied in with her ultimate quest. And she already had her angle. While Ingrid and Roundsman spoke about her progress in the gigantic back garden of the Highland Mansion, thing were going on inside it. The family butler, Jacob, strode past Ingrid's room. He knocked once or twice, to check if Ingrid was in, but no reply came. He assumed she was out practicing her sword skills in one of the gardens. Jacob sighed and pushed open the door, entering Ingrid's room. Lots of items in pink tones. But he didn't stop to savour the scene. He dropped off a letter that had come in the post for Ingrid on her bed and walked back out to corridor. Nobody could have known that it was an invitation to Ten Sekai Sentou Kyousou. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Mazda Family Training Camp, Fuzhou, Neo-China "Ya! Ya! Ya! Ya! Ree-yah! Yah! Yaaah!" The six or so trainees who were watching Ming Lo were in awe. They were all male and so they had not seen many women in the foundations of the Training Camp. Most seemed to think of her as an outsider. That was, until word got out that she was the granddaughter of Ahura Mazda himself. The idea of that kept their mouths shut for them. But her family was not the only thing that was concerning those trainees. They were also taking note of her power. Ming Lo was smaller than all of them, and yet she rapped on the training dummy before her with such speed that their eyes could hardly keep up with her movements. Ming Lo took up against the dummy with her trademarked spear, Baal, and hammered into it with a searing series of blows and return blows. While the trainees took this as a reflection of Ming Lo's talent (and perhaps in someways it was) the teacher knew better. Ming Lo was not training. She was working off steam. The lines across her face and her dark black hair tossing around her body showed her anger. As did the strength of her battle cries. And with every blow that was landed on the training dummy (sharp end or not) a thin dent was left behind. Ming Lo was doing more than she needed to and clearly working off stress. But to no great surprise to Ming Lo herself. The things her grandfather said were infuriating. "That misogynistic old man," Ming Lo seethed between strikes, "Who does he think he is to treat me this way? He may be the greatest assassin of all time... but I could be just as good as he is if I was allowed to join the First Assassin Line. Yet I am denied! And why? For nothing other than my gender! Those twisted, archaic laws! I'll never let my womb suffer the relentless indignation of being a tool for family regeneration! I'll show my grandfather than the women of the Mazda family have just as much right to wield Airget-Lam as the men do! Yaah!" Ming Lo gave one magnificent cry as she slashed at the training dummy. The trainees all gasped as Ming Lo's spear brutally sliced straight through the thick wood of the object, sharply cutting it into two halves. The upper half of the dummy clattered on the stone courtyard of the Mazda Family Training Camp, waking the dust. Ming Lo caught her breath, casting her powerful and downright pissed off eyes at the broken thing. She actually hadn't meant to destroy it; but at this point she was too angry to care. The Chinese woman lowered Baal and looked over at one of the trainees. "You!" She yelled. The trainee in question blinked. "...Y-Yes Ma'am?" "Go put up a replacement for this training device," Ming Lo spun Baal around till it lined up horizontally with her body, "I am taking a rest now." The others all nodded to her as Ming Lo strode off from that point towards the large building in the centre of the courtyard. The living quarters. Ming Lo hadn't been back here long but she had settled in well since her absence. She didn't need anyone to guide her to her room. The spear-fighting femme strode to the open stone archway and climbed up the steps to its innards. She marched all the way up to her room. To be honest, she was still in a little bit of a huff. Training helped but didn't solve her problems. It would take more than that. Ming Lo opened the loud, creaking wooden door into her poorly furnished room and dropped Baal on the ground. She flopped onto her straw bed and sighed. It was so mind numbingly frustrating to be in this position. The Mazda Family was now in its weakest position for many generations. One of their ranks had finally failed after a millennia's worth of unblemished successes. Adding women to the First Assassin Line would be a huge benefit to the family. She just knew it. But her antiquated Grandfather didn't seem to agree with that. And knowing her brothers, neither would they. Ming Lo rotated to her back and looked up into the ceiling. "There has to be a way to show my Grandfather that I would be an asset to the First Assassin Line. To show him that I can hold my own against anyone--regardless of my sex. There has to be a way..." Her eyes began to roam. That was until she saw something on the floor of her room. It was a newspaper. One of the few media forms that had remained in tact after the landing of the Genesis Comet. But she took better notice of the article on the front page. And slowly, she began reading it out aloud. "...A series of vicious attacks have been launched upon various peoples of Cairo, Neo Egypt. The only connection linking each of the attacks being a shared attachment to Blue River Road, a place famous in Neo Egypt for its poverty and illegal prostitution rings. The attacker is said to be a man in his late thirties, carrying nothing more than metal staff. His criminally insane actions seem no less than random and he has been considered extremely dangerous. At present there is a 850,000 credit bounty on the mystery killer's head..." Ming Lo finally began to smile again. Neo-Egypt was offering nearly a million credits to eliminate this guy. Apparently he was very important to them. Which would probably make him rather powerful too. To think... "...If I could take out a guy like that..." Ming Lo mused beautifully at the end, "Then my grandfather would be forced to acknowledge my talents! I could change the face of the Mazda Family forever! And bring us out of this rut! If I could assassinate that man..." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ School of Sajud, Cairo, Neo-Egypt "AAAAAHHGGGGHH!" The now lone teacher cried out in fear at the ghoul before her. She eyed him up from top to bottom. The trenchcoat, the sandy skin tone, the demonic eyes, the metal staff. This was the killer that everyone had been talking about. But to come to a small school such as this and murder innocent children? What kind of monster was he? The young Egyptian teacher slowly slid to the ground; her eyes wide and her breath short. She was terrified of this man. And even more confused as to how he could have gotten inside the school so easily. The killer, Ra El Khahid, took his eyes off his bloody metal quarterstaff (Quetzacoatl) and looked down at his fresh kills. Five kids. Each of them looking between six to ten years of age. Ra loved killing children. They screamed more. Begged for their lives. And weren't stupid enough to put up a fight. The monster had used some of his best skills to take away their lives. Stabbing them through the ribcages, mostly. Then giving a little twirl and slice off the heads of the remaining children. All that was left of them was a pile of mangled corpses down the corridor, their blood oozing from their broken bodies. Now he had one more target before he left. The woman teacher. She gasped as Ra El looked at her. "G-Get away! G-Get away from me!" "No," Ra said simply, "The Quetzacoatl loves you. It wishes to be bathed in your soul. Why don't you indulge it? Let the Quetzacoatl rip apart your earthly flesh and set free the imprisoned soul...?" "Y-You're insane!" The woman soon scrambled to her feet and started running towards the end of the corridor. At the end of it was a door. A fire exit. A possible escape from the maniac killer. But Ra El Khahid knew she wouldn't get very far. The Great Butcher lifted his quarterstaff and gave a powerful throw of it. It zoomed through the blood-smelling air and struck. Like lightning. The Quetzacoatl pieced the teacher straight through the neck. Instant kill. Her hand reached within two inches of the doorknob. Her body collapsed there and then. It dropped to the ground, splattering crimson blood over the hallways that had been full of the laughter of children just a few hours ago. Ra El Khahid simply smiled at his deeds, walked up to the dead teacher and yanked his staff out of her neck. Blood dripped ominously from Quetzacoatl as he spoke, "These weakling souls are not enough for me or the Quetzacoatl. I need fresh blood. Blood of strong ones. And if the voice of the Quetzacoatl is correct... then Ten Sekai Sentou Kyousou will be the place at which to find them..." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ District Seven, Nagoya, Neo-Japan The beautiful purr of Megumi came to a slow stop after one long ride. Ayame exhaled slowly as she realized she had driven straight to the meeting point. She had expected to spend at least one more day at an Inn before she came here. But Julia was so terrified of being attacked by Ras es-Shamrah again that they went straight through the checkpoint and to District Seven. They had been driving for at least five hours straight, which took its toll on Julia. You could plainly see that she was tired. But at least they were safe now. Tracking them after all that driving would have been quite impossible. Julia nudged up a little as she took on the fact that the loud chime of Megumi's engine had stopped. Her thin arms still happened to be clinging to Ayame's waist, but the fear was beginning to fade. At last. Ayame leaned upwards, shutting her eyes, briefly forgetting that Julia was holding her out of fear, not affection. "...Julia... it's over now. That thing might still be out there somewhere, but it really can't catch up with us. Not at the speed Megumi was going at. You're safe now." "Uh huh," Julia nodded as best she could, with her head upon Ayame's back, "...I know that I'm safe with you around... thank you so much..." But, before Ayame could make a reply to that, a third voice called out to the pair of them, saying only one word, Julia, in hushed, astounded tones. Ayame and Julia had parked in a small offshoot of a residential road, next to the rear of a set of houses and across from a main street. It was large alleyway-shaped stretch of pavement but was very quiet and empty of life. The second that the two heard someone call out Julia's name, they looked over into that direction with urgency. But they both eased as they saw the man standing there. Julia in particular was shocked. However this time it was for all the right reasons. The Scottish woman's sweet green eyes widened and filled with tears at the sight of the older man that stood across from them. Ayame released the handles of Megumi and grinned. "Hey there, Mr. McAmish. The Dark Katana has finished her duties for the day. I brought you, your daughter." Simon McAmish gave a disbelieving smile. "...Julia... my sweet Julia..." "...D-Daddy?" Julia was still shell shocked. But that shock melted into a burst of emotion as the brunette hopped off Megumi and ran straight over to her father. The father that she had not laid eyes upon for almost a year, "Daddy!" Simon gave a hearty laugh as his daughter leapt into his arms and hugged him for all her worth. After being separated for so long it was expected that the two of them would be this emotional. Mr. McAmish himself couldn't help but let slip a few tears of happiness. His daughter was safely back with him. And the woman who had done this for him had been none other than Ayame Nakagawa. But Ayame didn't interrupt the two. Even she herself had to smile at that sight. Such a scene could warm even the coldest heart. While Julia cried into his shoulder, the stout Scotsman looked over at her rescuer. "Thank you, Nakagawa. I can't stress this enough. Though all the work I've done to get this girl back to where she belongs, the best thing I ever did was contact you. I am eternally in your debt." Ayame chuckled. "Well, you can both thank me and pay off your debts by handing me the money we agreed on. Not that it wasn't an entirely unpleasant experience. I don't like to tangle with the Shougatsu everyday but I can understand why you'd want to when your daughter's involved. She's... quite a woman." "I did tell you as much," Simon offered, "And as you asked, I have the rest of the money ready for you to take. I'm just glad that this is all over and done with." At that point, Ayame hardened in look. "...I wouldn't be so sure of that. I got Julia this far but the two of you won't truly be safe until you both get out of Neo-Japan. On the way here we were attacked by some sort of sentinel of the Research Facility. I assume that that thing was one of the people that were experimented on. We managed to get away from it in time... but the Shougatsu could very well send more people after you two." Simon pulled back a little from Julia to see her face. "Is this true, Julia?" She nodded. Simon gave a hard look and brought his daughter back to his shoulder. "...I never suspected that the Research Department would actually attempt to re-claim my girl. I assumed that..." "Once they lost her they'd back off?" Ayame filled in, "No such luck. This isn't over until the two of you leave Neo-Japan. Normally I'd say that you should book it as soon as possible. But the Shougatsu will probably search the ship records of everyone leaving at this time. If I was you I'd lay low for the next few months. Until the heat dies down. Once the trail fades then you're free to escape." Simon bobbed his head. He knew that Ayame was right. "Thank you, Nakagawa. But... if what you say is true... then I may need another favour from you." Ayame narrowed her eyes with confusion. "Like what?" "We might not be safe, as you say," He replied, "so my daughter needs proper protection until she and I leave Neo-Japan. And I'm sorry to say that I don't have that power. So as selfish as it is to ask... can you stay with us for a while? Just until we leave?" Now that was one demand that Ayame had not been expecting. Stay with them for another unconfirmed period of time? She had already gotten herself knee deep in the machinations of a company that had the power to erase her life. And at the very least, ruin it. Could she really involve herself in this any more than she had? Ayame was almost certainly against this, but then took sight of Julia. Beautiful, fragile Julia. She might have been a magic user but she was as timid and innocent as a flower. Someone had to be there for her until she got home. And thanks to the present situation & circumstances, there was no one better for the job than the Dark Katana. Ayame sighed to herself. How many more situations would she involve herself in all thanks to a pretty face? "...I'll do it."
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