Chapter Text
It seemed that her luck had finally run out.
"Give me the strength to get my revenge or let me die trying." She had pleaded before the incense lit shrine, almost begging on her knees to the spirits to hear her. It was fruitless to do such a thing, she knew no one would listen, and yet time and time again Mizu had found herself whispering her desires to whoever would listen.
That moment seems so long ago now, as if it had been years ago and not mere weeks, how long has she trudged through the wilderness? how much blood had she spilt to lead to this moment?
She can feel the heat of the flames against her back, the glow of the fire consuming the room as much as the destruction tore a path throughout the building. Not that it mattered, her eyes set on Fowler's frightened expression as he looked between the flames and her. It seemed that he had settled on the lesser of two evils, deciding to go through the flames then Mizu and her blade that was already drawn for the fight.
"You don't know what I've gone through to get to you." Mizu states, only a step or two behind him.
Fowler glances back at her, cornered down the narrow hall. The air is thick with smoke, the flames around them climbing up the walls. She can tell he's moments away from making a move on her, the tension in his shoulders a sign that he was preparing to face her like a raging bull. She dodges his charge, side-stepping the blow by the tell-tale swing of air moments before the metal of a dagger flies before her. Mizu might have mastered the sword but watching only aided so much, for before she can counter the dagger flashing before her face is dragged down to her chest. It is only reflex that has it sink into the muscle and her shoulder and not something vital. It stings, twisting into her in a burst of pain. Nothing about the strike is clean, the feral light in his eyes betraying the savage enjoyment that fills him as he drags it in the roughest way, snagging on the scar tissue and muscle. If she was not so preoccupied, she'd be sick at the pure delight he shows.
It allows him the edge to over power her, brute strength palpable as he forces her to the floor, his grip on her like iron shackles. Pain was not new to her, nor was it the first time someone had tried to kill her. It was neither of these that caused the terror that steadily built up within her corrosively, no, it was the knowing glint in Fowler's eyes. That moment of understanding when his eyes met hers, something short of amusement forcing a disbelieving grin onto his face.
"Your bones break like a woman's." He teases, genuine understanding passing over him as he squeezes his grip harder as if in confirmation. "Oh, you just keep getting better..Little Miss. So, you're the one?"
Mizu snarls up at him, bringing her knee up at him with as much force as she can manage. Meanwhile, she reaches up to wrenches the dagger out from where he had savagely struck her, blood spilling as it weeps. For a moment the almost giddy expression on Fowler's face freezes, the expression one she relished in as she knees him over and over again until his face is bloody and bruised. Her hand snags into his hair, forcing him to look up at her as she uses his dagger against him.
Even with her dagger at his throat he continued to taunt her. "The biggest city in the world is burning to the ground, as blood sacrifice to your revenge. Oh my dear, that's your white half showing. Maybe you are mine."
Mizu narrows her eyes at him. "There were four men in Japan when I was born, they sold guns, opium and flesh. Where are the other two white men now?" Mizu questions.
"Oh yes, so you can kill all four of your maybe-fathers?" He teases back, a laugh erupting from him even as blood pours from his damaged nose. "Skeffington and Routley, hmm, between your height and your pretty eyes, either of them could be your father."
"Tell me." She demands, pushing the tip of her blade into his neck until blood wells.
Fowler merely grins at the action, a cockiness to his face that shows he knew he had the upper hand. "Kill me and you'll never find them, they're hidden." Fowler reveals. "Don't be so proud... You need me to find them."
Her hand trembles, an involuntary thing as rage howls within her. "I can find a way without you, I made it here didn't I?" She says. The words are hollow, a desperation filling her as she weighs up just quickly she is stuck in stalemate. She could kill him, another successful tattoo for her arm but where does that lead her? There would still be two white men out there for her to kill with no lead on how to finish them.
Fowler seems to settle on a similar sentiment. "For what? Another twenty years?" He questions mockingly and this time he does laugh, his head tipped back with the force of it. "We will all likely be dead before you even lift a finger against us."
"Tell me and perhaps I will spare you." Mizu says.
"Oh, we both know that isn't true Little Miss, you're as treacherous as a snake in the grass." Fowler says. "I would know."
His words only just sink in before she's abruptly thrown backwards and her hip aches with the force of Fowler's kick. She goes sprawling, careening unsteadily on her feet and Fowler is right behind her. The glint of his teeth harrowing against the fire engulfing the room, the sight of him looms, his cunning eyes lingering on something behind her. The expression is the only warning before the air in her lungs is forced out of her at his next blow, the full weight of her body smashing into the window. The wood splinters beneath her weight buckling as she falls through it, Fowler's triumphant laugh sounds above it all. The wood cuts into her, slicing and cutting as her hands helplessly attempt to reach out to something, anything to halt her fall. Out of all of the ways for the confrontation to end, this was not the result she had envisioned when she had dreamed of this moment.
The spirits truly hated her it seemed.
The thought passes as she free-falls before her jaw aches as it smashes against jagged rock of the castle walls, the taste of ash still lingering on her tongue swapped for the taste of iron as she bites down on her tongue with the force of the blow. The rocks of the castle walls cut at her hands, the pain radiating up her arms as her nails dig fruitlessly to find traction. High above her, flames escape the building ravenously. It seems never ending, the bright glow of fire turning night into day as it bleeds into a neighbouring building.
It is the last thing she sees before it all goes dark. Edo was burning and it was all her fault.