The wind spurred her on, pushing her forward as she walked up the small hill, towards their meeting point. Her lantern swung back and forth in her grasp, squeaking loudly. The sun had dropped beneath the horizon, ditching the sky in a pinkish red.

She sighed. This might be last dusk she'd ever see again. Either she would die or she would free herself from the slings of destiny. From the day she was born she was like a leaf tossed by the winds of fate. Today this leaf would straighten up or fall down.

The split willow tree waved its crown in the wind as if it was greeting. It was said to have been split by a god with a bolt of thunder, enraged by a foolish man's wish for a second life to undo his sins.

All Mayura could see was a tree with two divided trunks, one having outgrown out of the other naturally. Nonetheless she could not deny how her heart sped up and how her skin started to tingle at the sight of the large tree towering over the meadow and the sound of its leaves rustling like jingles of a tambourine.

He was not there yet.

Stopping a few feet away from the object, she let her gaze run over the field, scanning her surroundings. Remote from the road she came with this area was mostly untouched. The only ones who used this part of the countrysides were shepherds letting their sheep and cows graze the grass of the heath close to the village.

From where Mayura was standing, up on the hill, she could see far into any direction. The only smart position for an ambush was the grove nearby and though she could not rule out the possibility of someone hiding in the thicket of the undergrowth, she could see everything exiting that small forest.

The sundown, the weaving leaves of the willow tree, the breeze of the wind, it felt almost – peaceful.

If it weren't for the imminent fight, she would sit down with her back leaned against the trunk and watch the last ray of sunlight disappear.

Instead she waited for the monster she had been told about since the day of her birth to appear in front of her.

And just as she thought this, she spotted a lone, cloaked figure cross the fields, coming from the north.

-------------------------------------------

From beneath the hood, which shielded him from the last but deadly rays of the sun, he gazed at her, while crossing the distance between them.

Mayura Otomi truly was the one supposed to bring him fall like he'd assumed.

Right now she looked down on him, standing high on the hill next to the willow tree. She did not budge an inch. Blonde stains of hair flew around her face, having escaped their capture of the ponytail. Like the first time he'd seen her she was wearing trousers, tucked into high boots and a vest complimenting her form.

"I am glad you actually came," Shimon said while taking the last few strides uphill.

She licked her lips, showing the first sign of emotions. Her eyes skipped from his eyes to his mouth. Her sharp intake of breath pierced his ears. "Stop talking," She grabbed the hilt of the sword, sticking out from her hip. A different sword from the one she had left behind in Sayo's chamber. With a firmer voice she continued, "I won't let you deceive me another time."

He ignored the sting in his chest and murmured, "It was neither what I wanted nor what I planned when I came to Narukami."

"And what do you want beside killing innocent people?"

Again the same question. What did he want indeed?

"Freedom. It's all I want," he said the first thing on his mind and added as an afterthought, "Wanted."

Her eyes twitched, brows furrowed; her voice brightened and struggled when she asked, "Why should I believe you? You are a monster. You've murdered my ancestors, hunted down my family and killed my father."

"Your father?"

"Seigen Amawaka," she pronounced the surname bitterly.

This took him by surprise.

"Seigen was your father? But your name –"

"I am a bastard," Mayura intervened.

"Huh," he huffed. She was legitimate by blood but not by law and even though she was no true Amawaka, it was the blood of her line which ended in her. The last of her branch was an illegitimate leaf. He would have chuckled at the irony, if it wouldn't have such a bitter taste on his tongue.

Again he thought back to the incident, when he had sent his henchmen to abduct the last of Amawaka and they came back with Seigen – turned and unable to bleed. Back then Shimon had feared his course to have ended, that was until he heard rumors of one Amawaka being left. Now everything was different. Every drama ended with twists and turns.

He shook his head, flinging the memory away. "I did not kill Seigen. I wasn't there when he was attacked. It was an accident."

"Again: Why should I believe anything you say?"

Searching eyes captured his and he held her gaze, calmly declaring, "Because you and I are part of the same legend. We were ought to meet and it's our fate to fight. That's a truth you can't deny."

Eyes dropped, driving a furrow between her brows. "Don't you try to lure me in with words," Mayura replied before unsheathing her weapon and pointing it towards him. "Pick up your sword. I won't attack somebody unarmored."

"Even if it is a monster?"

They both knew, she had attacked an unarmored gorger without batting an eyelid before.

Again she bit her lip. "Stop talking and fight."

Calmly Shimon pushed back the hood of his cape before unhooking the piece of clothing to discard it fully, dropping it the ground. The sun had vanished, leaving only a slight glimmer in its wake and the twilight consumed the flame of the lantern she had placed near the willow tree.

This time he would fight without restriction. He drew his blade to wield it against hers.

Shifting into a battle stance, he watched her do the same.

Slowly they circled each other, letting their shadows, cast by the lantern, dance. Both waited for the other to leave an opening.

It was by the break of a twig beneath his boot that their routine changed and both of them advanced. He'd barely parried her attempt of a feint. His inhuman strength helping him not to give way against her blow.

Withdrawing from the block she immediately attacked anew, thrusting the blade towards his guts. Jumping to the right he evaded and swung his sword in response.

Neither one of them let the other have much space to recover or attack. While exchanging blows, it became obvious soon that they were toe on toe. In contrast to the last time Mayura fought with a calmer hand and less reluctance. With clever blocks and swift sidesteps she used his strength against himself. He wondered, if this was her element, sword against sword. Perhaps the fire poker had not been a disadvantage on his side yesterday.

She spun around. He followed and slashed his sword forward.

Instead of blocking she shifted her weight, narrowly missing his blade cutting through the air.

Shocked Shimon looked at her as she'd sunken her sword into his stomach in return.

Shocked, that she'd missed his heart.

He could not say, if it had been on purpose or not.

Unmoving he watched how she pulled out her blade, leaving no blood on him and no harm except for the torn shirt as the wound closed itself after the penetrating object was removed.

There was a pause, a moment in which they just looked at each other. A moment in which he could see regret clouding her eyes like mist covered the sea.

The moment was over fast for Mayura advanced with a loud battle cry.

Again they met in a dance of swords, besting each other with every move. He felt drawn to her, to the flush on her face, the erratic rise and fall of her chest and the sound of her heart beating fast, strongly flooding blood through her veins, as loud as their clatter of their swords clashing. Yet, it wasn't her blood he wanted.

There was set deadline for their fight, though. One thing was working in his favor: Stamina, or rather his absolute lack of it. While she sucked in and blew out whistling breaths, he had not broken out in a sweat for it was impossible to him.

She parried a blow, shifting on her legs. But instead of positioning herself, she suddenly cried out.

Going to a knee she grasped the ankle of the other leg. Her face was scrunched in pain.

Shimon stared at her. The grip on his sword loosened. His hand reached out for her.

After the blink of an eye he realized he reached out for her with his free hand.

It would be easy to kill her now but, once more, he couldn't.

As he gazed at her, the answer as to why he could not pull it through although he must captured his mind. The answer was as irritating as it was frightening. Having been focused on one purpose only had made him blind. Until now.

--------------------------------------------

Burning pain seized her ankle. Clenching her teeth, she cursed her carelessness. Now, he sure was going to end her and there was little she could do to prevent it while kneeling in the grass.

"Shall we continue when you have regained your breath?"

What?

Her head whipped upwards straining her neck. Eyes widened in surprise at his offer. Was he serious? "Why?"

"You seem –," he started to explain.

"No, I mean, why are you doing this?" Her voice was broken in a screech of disbelief.

"Because as mad as it sounds, I don't want to kill you," he replied straightforwardly.

Dumbfounded she blinked at him. Mouth agape. She was at a loss for words. She had not seen this coming.

"Even if it's part of the legend," he added in a murmur.

Mayura was stupefied and shaken because of the sudden change of situation. Her mind tried to grasp on what he was saying. The legend? "I – I can't recall –"

He turned his back towards her. She began to wonder, what he was doing when he started to recite words well known to her,

"When the past and future become one,
when branches of fate, bow towards each other;
Then the monster will be undone.

Only they who are the last Amawaka can fulfill the deed.
Only they who are the last of their blood will complete their ancestors' lead.

Born in blood, it ends in blood."

He paused and tossed back his head. Then he continued,

"He, who had played with a god, has his own path to follow.
He will come to naught or spread further sorrow.

He, who had died once and lived twice, can free his soul,
paying the price by pouring the blood of his fated foe.

In blood born, in blood it ends."

Mayura swallowed while slowly regaining her senses. It was the first time she heard of this second half. Lowly she mumbled, "I've never heard of that part before."

"Because it wasn't carried through time." He shrugged and continued while he returned to face her, "It is easier to see the monster just as a monster."

Right now he looked more like a broken man than a monster. The light of the lantern darkened the shadows it bestowed on him.

Mustering his face Mayura searched for a lie beneath his words. "And how would you know of it then?"

"I was the first who received these words," he replied with a cruel smirk sending chills down her back.

Irritated she shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

"I wasn't always the monster you've heard off. I wasn't always like this. Once I was a young man with a beating heart. That was centuries ago."

Licking her dry lips she nodded for him to continue. With a hiss she leaned back to ease the strain on her ankle, hoping against reason it was the right choice to give up her guard.

"My mistake was that I prayed to a god. Back then they lived among us on earth, within reach. They made impossible things happen by the snip of a finger. Yet, they were only as generous as they were cruel.

"I was a young boy living with his siblings in a shabby shed east of Narukami. My sister was born with poor health, always becoming sick. One illness pursued the next. Her body was not as strong as her mind. So my brother and me took care of her. Our parents were long dead." He looked over Mayura's head, staring off-space while telling her his story.

"Then a fever brought her down, tormenting her weak and little body. She cried all day because of the pain. Me and my brother, we both thought this was it. But I could not accept it. I had not wanted her to die. She was one of the best things in my life. And so I visited one of the gods living nearby; one who preferred to take the shape of a fox," Shimon walked over to the willow tree and planted a hand on the bark. "And I prayed to him."

Mayura's heart clenched as she'd imagined the fear of a sibling loosing their sister. She would have tried everything, too. She saw him, a brother frightened to loose his little sister. What she could not see was the monster.

"I had been mindful of my words because I knew about the wicked games gods loved to play. Yet, I had not been careful enough. After I formulated my wish he did give me a way by changing me into something which won't die nor live ever again," Shimon ended his story with a bitter tone and lowered head. "I had not known what that meant back then."

Blinking tears of compassion away, Mayura observed him. Never would she have guessed that the monster of the legend was created by a god. "How?" she asked after taking a recovering gasp, "How could a god do this?"

"They were different back then. The stronger our belief, the stronger their power. But they did dig their own grave with their little games, for soon less and less people turned to them. Now they barely have power and are happy to abide anyone believing to regain their might someday," he replied. Had his eyes been soft and flooded with emotions before, they were as cold as ice now.

"Regardless," she shook her head. "They should not have made a young man pay such a grave price, if they were that powerful."

"I had not seen the extent of the price at first and I did what I was told by the god. It was only until I noticed how I changed. I began to lust for blood and would not bleed, if stabbed. It came as a shock to learn I had stopped breathing. That was after I already turned Sayo. So I returned to the god and that's when he told me what has turned into a legend over time."

"And then you," she paused taking a deep breath before asking him, "Then you started killing my family?"

"At first we tried to avoid anything connected to it. We hunted animals for blood and hid ourselves from the villagers. But then Sayo attacked a daughter of one of the villagers. In consequence we fled. It took decades for me to accept my fate and embrace what I've become and what I needed to do to change me back."

She understood the struggle against roles cast by fate. She could relate to his fight against what he ought to do and how his acceptance turned it to a part of him. What she did not understand was why the Amawakas played a role in this story. "I still don't understand what this have to do with my bloodline. Why the Amawaka lineage?"

"Genealogy," he said matter-of-factly. "When I saved my sister's life, my line ended for gorgers can't father children. Back when I had been... turned, the Amawakas had been next of kin because my aunt was married to an Amawaka. I am supposed to burn down the branch closest to mine, eventually ending my bloodline for good."

It was unbelievable how gruesome a god could be and yet she had no reason not to believe Shimon. As unbelievable as this unheard-of occurrence was, it made sense. Even chaos followed structure, her father used to say. She bit her lip and concluded what Shimon's purpose truly meant,"And that's how you will free your soul?"

His eyes brightened and yet they wavered and ran over her face restlessly. "I need to pour the blood of the one who will destroy me, the last of the Amawaka lineage."

Her heart stopped a beat and she swallowed bitterly, fearing the answer of her next question. "Then why haven't you killed me, yet?"

He took a hurried step towards her before he stopped again. His eyes lowered flitting to the right, before they met hers again, glinting with strength, "You made me replace the one desire I had for centuries with a rather fickle but not less urgent one."

Mayura stopped breathing. Her eyes searched his. Like looking to a mirror she recognized his feelings and her own state of heart. She was unable to formulate words as her heart called out for him.

"And I am rethinking about which part of the legend I want to become true," he plunged his sword deep into the ground next to him before spreading his arms, "You are ought to stop me."

"It was never said I have to kill you." Mayura shook her head. This could not be the solution. Neither her nor his death could be.

With a little shove she pushed herself from the ground and rose to her feet, bringing her sword along. "Perhaps that was never the case," she added.

Shimon did not move. His arms remained spread in invitation, "We won't find out, if you don't try."

"I –" Her grab on the sword's handle tightened, only to make her hand and arm quiver. She stood there watching him. He appeared to be ready to receive the final stab. But she – "I can't," she croaked.

He frowned. "Then what now?"

"I don't know." Looking for an answer, her gaze roamed the ground. She licked her lips and rambled, "Maybe we never had to kill each other. Maybe you will be stopped, when you pour my blood. Maybe the legend was never about two sides but one of the same. Maybe it was another play of words by the gods. What if it's not about burning down a branch of your family but reconnecting with one? Born in blood, it ends in blood, right?"

When her gaze stopped on him again, she saw him walking towards her. Her skin tingled. He stopped when they stood only a feet apart. Almost as close as they had been during their dance. 

Her breath hitched in her chest.