Hotaru wept. For the first time in forty years. The tears carved clean lines through the ash on his cheeks.
She left the Heart Cutter embedded in the floor of the inner sanctum. She left Hotaru alive, curled around his stolen grief like a man holding a child he had buried long ago. shinobumonogatari
For the first time, Hotaru smiled. It was a terrible smile—a hole in a face. Hotaru wept
“I don’t need forever,” she replied. “I need one second.” the drag of mercy
Hotaru attacked. His speed was inhuman, because he had cut away the weight of hesitation, the drag of mercy, the friction of doubt. Each strike was perfect. Each strike was hollow.