Chapter Text
Blood splatters across Akame’s hands as she withdraws the hunting knife. The blade is red and slick, smelling strongly of iron, before she wipes it clean.
The kill is messy. The Danger Beast’s brown feathers have darkened, mottled with its own innards, and Akame frowns. An ex-assassin should be more adept at killing in a tidy manner, yet she finds utilizing such a tiny weapon to be a struggle. She is too used to the elegance and preciseness of a katana. Her hunting knife feels slippery within her grip.
It isn’t as if she doesn’t have Murasame. Her Imperial Arms is tucked inside her cloak, but after such a long time of dormancy, she wants it to rest. It has been through enough.
Knife clear of tarnish, she places it back its sheath and turns her attention to the Danger Beast she has slain. It is nothing special. A Class Three—a regular occurrence in the many contracts she’d completed as of late. This one, when alive, had gained a reputation for haunting the nearby village’s wheat fields. Her contractor had wanted it gone; thus she obliged for the coin he offered.
Akame wraps the beast’s body in cloth and secures it. She then slings it over her shoulder and begins to make the trudge back to the village.
Five months have already passed.
She’s come a long way since the capital. Surrounding her are a series of rolling hills and crop gardens. It is far from modern life; the people here do not have the hindrances of a major city to deal with. It’s nice, in a way.
In the meantime, Night Raid is no more, and Najenda is taking care of everything in her absence by rebuilding the Empire into something better. With the dismantlement of the monarchy, things have an actual chance of improving. They are in the first phases of experimenting with a democracy, and from what Akame has picked up during her travels, it is working.
It's what the others would have been happy with, and she’s satisfied with that.
The return route is not lengthy, though she’s tired as she approaches the small farming estate. Akame scouts out their community hall—a sullen, decaying building—and quickly locates her contractor inside. She pulls her prey from her shoulder and dumps it unceremoniously upon the oak table. The Danger Beast’s bones crunch under their own weight.
“It’s done,” Akame says flatly.
The contractor blinks at her bluntness but is pleased, nonetheless. He takes the bundle into his arms to move it elsewhere before speaking to her. “You have our gratitude. This thing’s been a real pain for us as of late. We could barely step outside without it—”
“I’d like my payment now.”
“…Oh, of course.”
Reaching into his pocket, he places a handful of coins on the spot where the Danger Beast had lain. Akame looks over them, and while nobody has tried to shortchange her, she counts them to be sure.
She is doing well enough as an independent Danger Beast hunter. Finding work in killing them isn’t difficult. Even with the corruptness of the Empire extinguished, Danger Beasts would always prove to be a problem. Not to mention that out here, alone, there is no one to protect besides herself, and she tries not to feel guilty about being grateful for that.
But is it fulfilling? She wouldn’t say so. Akame had left without a personal goal other than to keep things as peaceful as possible for Najenda. Hunting is merely a way to keep cash in her hand and to pass the hours. Her real duty is to retain peace from the outside of the Empire’s walls, and it is going smoothly enough.
That is, except for one matter.
The outcome she regards as her final failure. The sole obstacle preventing true peace from being attained.
She tries not to grit her teeth as she recalls it. Being surrounded by a dome of ice, wincing as their swords slid against each other, hearing the announcement of a trump card—only to be stunned when it came to a bizarre end.
It infuriates her.
As Akame shoves the coins into the pocket of her black cloak with more force than necessary, the contractor continues, oblivious to her exasperation.
“I didn’t say earlier, as I wasn’t certain, but… are you her?” He stops when she gives him a blank stare. “Her. As in, one of Night Raid? Akame?”
She decides to keep things short. “I was, yes.”
Beaming, the contractor bows. “I knew it. I’ve heard everything about you. What an honor.”
It’s almost refreshing to hear someone sound delighted over Night Raid, but she cannot help being displeased. When she had placed the remnants of the broken domain into Najenda’s hands, she had turned around, and hadn’t looked back. This is meant to be a new phase of her life, so constant referrals to her time in Night Raid isn’t ideal.
Of course, wandering aimlessly through the countryside, taking the occasional hunting job to keep herself distracted, is hardly a plan by itself.
As she turns to leave, the contractor calls her back.
“A moment, Ms. Akame?”
Her gaze is fixed ahead of her. “What is it?”
“Between you and me, I’d like to share a rumor I’ve caught wind of. It’s something you should listen to.” He stops again. It is almost annoying how often this man pauses mid-explanation. “There’s been reports of unusual happenings around the outskirts of the capital. I mean… there’s snow.”
Akame’s heart leaps to her throat.
“…Snow?” she repeats.
“Oh, yes. This isn’t about the weather. It isn’t winter yet, and it’s not cold enough for snow to fall naturally… see what I mean? People have come across snow where it shouldn’t be, or frozen Danger Beast corpses in the middle of sunny fields, or ice sculptures. So are you thinking—whoa!”
He is cut off as Akame races forward and grabs his collar. Her grip is tight, and fear crosses his face. “Tell me where you’ve seen this!”
“I didn’t!” the contractor says. “I’ve just h-heard about it! See for yourself, around the northern border!”
“You’ll need to be more specific,” Akame prompts, the desperation in her voice clear. Snow does not fall at this time of year. Ice sculptures do not form from nothing, either, especially so if it is not the correct temperature for water to freeze.
No, there is only one explanation for this.
The man nods frantically. “Um, w-well, I think one of the recent locations was somewhere around Sutgami Port. It’s not too far from the Northern Frontier Lands, but it’s within the Empire’s territory.”
Akame releases him after digesting the information he’s given her, and he scrambles back and straightens his wrinkled shirt.
Sutgami Port. She knows of it. It is a small fishing dock about five miles across from Empire’s north border. The Northern Frontier Lands lie beyond it, as the contractor has mentioned prior. In old times, such a location would be dangerous to travel to, though with the Northern Tribes declared extinct, it will not be a problem.
Now that she had no excuses to linger here, no more excuses to cruise around with no leads, Akame gathers her things and heads towards the door. She will not ignore this.
Behind her, the contractor’s voice wavers. “It’s General Esdeath, isn’t it?”
She flinches as she hears him. The very name of that woman is enough to aggravate Akame’s anger like hellfire.
“Do you… do you really believe she’s alive somehow? Even though the Empire was defeated?”
Akame doesn’t answer him. She doesn’t need to believe.
She knows.
With the Emperor dead, things can start moving.
The pair watch from the city wall as the wheels of society resume at long last. Civilians are setting up scaffolding around the capital’s destroyed buildings, and there has been great effort in keeping stalls and other trades open. Najenda is impressed by this. The diligence of the Empire’s citizens is remarkable, that is for certain. Akame checks on her anyway, which Najenda appreciates.
“I’ll be working to set up the new nation, with the remaining time I have left,” she explains. “It’s the least I can do for everyone, as well as for Night Raid’s honor, as a survivor.”
“I’ve never doubted your ability before. I won’t doubt it now.”
The wind rustles their cloaks. There is little left to be said between them, but of course, there is one last matter, other than Akame’s intention to depart.
Najenda says what they are both thinking, “Esdeath’s still out there, you know.”
Akame sighs. “Yes. Although… there have been no sightings since my encounter with her.”
“It baffles me. I can’t say I know the entirety of Esdeath’s inner workings, though I never could have predicted this.” She runs a hand through her silver hair before pulling out a cigarette. As she exhales the first drag, she discreetly coughs a speck of blood into her palm. “Are you sure you wish to burden yourself with chasing her? We won’t be so lucky to find she’s simply crawled into an alley to rot. She will be scheming war. Going up against her alone will be risky, as there’s no telling what her mental state is like.”
“Putting an end to her existence is my own responsibility. She’s killed enough people. I won’t let her hurt anyone else. That, along with keeping the outskirts of the Empire safe, will be my contribution.”
“Well, I can put my faith in you, then, but you never need to hesitate to ask for assistance.”
“Thanks, Najenda. I’ll keep it in mind.”
Najenda tosses her a smile. “Take care of yourself, Akame, above all else.”
Five months later, Akame remembers the sour taste that day left on her tongue as if it were yesterday.
The day of Tatsumi’s death, the day the Empire had crumbled. The day her and Esdeath had clashed. They had battled. They had drawn blood and unleashed each others’ trump cards, yet the fight had never reached its conclusion.
Because Esdeath did not remain for it.
The general had escaped.
Akame didn’t know how it had happened. It had been too fast, too chaotic, for her to comprehend it.
In addition to this, Esdeath had also broken the unwritten law that should two Imperial Arms battle with killing intent, one user will die. And until recently, no traces of her had been recovered. It is as if she has been erased from reality, though Akame knew better than to ever assume that.
She doesn’t understand why Esdeath chose that moment to disappear, an action so out of character for her, just as she doesn’t understand why she’s suddenly leaving evidence of her existence.
Saying that, Akame does understand that allowing Esdeath, the most dangerous person alive, to escape was a mistake which could cost them everything they’d accomplished. The work her comrades had put in… it could very well end up down the drain.
Mine. Bulat. Chelsea. Lubbock. Sheele. Susanoo. Leone.
Tatsumi.
Akame tenses her jaw as she thinks of them and how they’d react to this. But now she has the chance to correct that error. As she stands before Sutgami Port several days after hearing news of Esdeath’s reappearance, she absorbs what she sees.
The port is old. It is tucked between the beginning of the Northern Lands’ mountain range and the ocean itself. The buildings are caked in barnacles and algae, and looters have taken anything of value. All that remains to prove life ever existed here are some crates, a pile of tangled fishing nets, and the broken hull of a fishing boat.
However, that is not what catches Akame’s attention. The port itself is nothing out of the ordinary, but what is scattered around it is.
The contractor had told her the truth. A flurry of icy slush and snow dusts the perimeters, half-melted by the ocean mist. It spirals out in strange, deliberate shapes, as well as into crystalline patterns consisting of straight sides that no normal snowstorm could cast. They wrap around the dock’s perimeters and lead up to the mountain range. Akame’s boot presses a footprint deep into it.
This is most definitely Esdeath’s doing. Night Raid had studied her Imperial Arms religiously. Esdeath’s ice differs from natural ice; it is far harder and lingers longer, as if it had been compressed into diamonds. And according to their past research, Esdeath was and still is capable of creating types of ice not normally seen on earth. Although, this ice in particular is not so extraordinary, and has begun to melt somewhat.
Akame glowers as she examines the grandiose excess Esdeath has put into this array. She is all too familiar with how the general enjoyed going overkill. This display at Sutgami Port is one of power. One of mockery.
Evidently, Esdeath wants someone to know she is alive. But why in this manner? Why not start the war she desires in a more direct way?
Maybe there is a clue to her thought processes somewhere.
Akame ends up circling the dock for a third time before coming to a partial conclusion.
Esdeath has used this place as a theater stage for her hubris, yet the way she has lain the snow out suggests there is a trail to follow. There is no obvious path other than the placed indicators, though she feels drawn to the looming mountain range.
Esdeath must be heading there if she is heading anywhere. She wants someone to know she lives, and possibly… wants them to follow her to the mountains.
But… why?
What motive she has is a mystery, and that also applies to why she had run in the first place. Esdeath is not known for mawkishness. She has no reason to return home if she is not feeling sentimental. Akame does not believe that is why she’d fled.
Esdeath would rather die than admit defeat. If she thought she was going to lose, she would have accepted death with her own sense of honor. Then again, perhaps this is all just some twisted mind game, but Esdeath is not the type for those, either.
It doesn’t mean much in the end. Akame only needs to find her and kill her.
She checks her camping gear. There is not a lot of it, yet it will do for this journey. Murasame is at her hip, waiting to perform its duty after its period of rest. It’s ready.
Before Akame leaves, she decides to take one last glance at the ocean before heading towards the Northern Lands.
It’s a murky gray, tinted with navy the further towards the horizon it climbs. Its waves froth and churn as they hit the pebbled shore of the port. Akame shuts her eyes and allows herself to listen to it. It’s peaceful, seeing as she is so far away from civilization—something she has gotten used to during her new way of living. The air frosts over as it leaves her lungs, and crystals form on her eyelashes as she shuts them.
Is it getting colder? Akame begins to shiver. It is certainly chilly here, the remnants of Esdeath’s handiwork are an example of that, but she swears… she swears the temperature is dropping.
It shouldn’t be getting this cold so quickly. Night is hours away, and winter is not for another few months.
Something is wrong.
Nevertheless, she is given no time to contemplate it before an arm wraps around her midsection, pulling her in close, and a chin rests itself upon her shoulder. Akame’s blood runs as frigid as the air around her as a silky voice whispers into her ear.
“Enjoying the view?”
Akame lets out a shriek before staggering forwards. The arm lets go. Behind her, there is a low chuckle, and Akame whips around. Her breathing stops when she comes face to face with an amused grin.
Akame is too stunned to speak, and doesn’t believe her own eyes. But it’s no illusion.
“Cat got your tongue? You look quite flummoxed, Akame.”
The woman who prides herself on being strong, who measures her worth by the amount of people she’s killed and tortured, who makes a show of her ideals… the one who deserted the battlefield when the Empire lost, the one who has been missing for this long… is standing before her as if they’re playing a game of catch up.
Akame opens and closes her mouth once before she manages to spit out a response.
“Esdeath.”
The word is said with as much venom as she can muster. For the first time in five months, Akame wraps her fingers around Murasame’s hilt.
“Now that’s more like the reaction I envisaged,” Esdeath says mockingly.
“Where the hell have you been?!” Akame shouts. “I, you—”
“Lots of places. Here, there, everywhere. I was wondering how long it would take for you to catch up to me. It’s been half a year; I expected better.”
So, she is here to jest with her. What an imbecile.
Akame scoffs at her. “Don’t act coy. You know it was only a matter of time before I found you. You’re more stupid than I gave you credit for.”
“Really?” Esdeath replies, unfazed by her insult, and throws one right back. “You sound confident in your tracking abilities, yet here I was so bored waiting I had to lay clues out for you.” She then gestures to the snow around them. “And I wasn’t exactly indirect about it, was I? So, don’t forget you’re here because I allowed you to find me. It’s evident to me you’re not as good as you think you are.”
So, she has been correct to assume this is on purpose.
“That’s what all of this is about? A beacon to signal your presence? A vulgar display of power?” says Akame.
Esdeath huffs in annoyance. “Don’t make me respond to such a silly question. You know the answer.”
As a quiet hush drapes across them, the sound of the foaming waves amplifying it, Akame takes the opportunity to cast her gaze over Esdeath’s form.
She does not look very healthy. Esdeath has always had a pale complexion, but the color has drained from her cheeks entirely. Her lips are dry and chapped, whilst the white coat of her uniform is torn. Akame trails her eyes sideways to see that the arm she had cut off remains missing. Esdeath has tied bandages around her shoulder to conceal the stump, and they flutter around her like ribbons.
Her body is unbalanced, yet she somehow manages to retain the same grace she held as a general. She is still intimidating, as filthy and stained with old blood and grime as she is.
Esdeath speaks again, her voice deepening into an obnoxious drawl, “Tell me… does the Empire know I’m alive? Does it know you failed to kill me?”
This catches Akame off guard. “Some are aware of you. And trust me, they want your life as badly as I do. If I didn’t find you, others would have.”
“I don’t know about that. Like I said, I went out of my way to lead you here.”
“Get off your high horse, you arrogant—”
Esdeath speaks over her while looking smug, “Were you surprised when you lost sight of me? I’ll admit, I surprised myself. It’s not like me to wish to withdraw from such an exhilarating battle. It was almost distressing.”
When she stops, she inhales a breath, and a tense expression twists her face in a contrast to her usual haughty demeanor.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad it was you that caught up to me first. You are by far the most interesting option out there, even if you were painfully slow about it.”
“It’s more interesting that you waited here for me when you could have ended me five months ago! When you had the chance!” Akame counters, keeping in mind Esdeath does not know of the plan she was going to execute. When the general doesn’t reply, she laughs bitterly. “…I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. At the end of it, you were kind enough to reveal yourself to me, and considering you wanted to be found this desperately, I can grant you the reprise you crave. Now… we’ve spoken long enough.”
She draws Murasame. The sword scrapes against its sheath in a silent song of excitement. Esdeath’s choice to flee still confuses her, as she was never one to back down from a fight—especially one she had enjoyed so much—but Akame cannot dwell on it. If Esdeath will not explain, then she will have to make do with not knowing.
Esdeath’s rapier is buckled to her hip, but she doesn’t touch it. Instead, she rolls her shoulders back and sighs. “Is that what you think?”
“What else is there to think? I can recall the battle as if it had just occurred. You activated your trump card, giving yourself the opportunity to kill me, but you disappeared. You didn’t try to strike me!”
The memory disgusts her. Her upper lip curls at the sight of Esdeath’s self-satisfied smile.
“You fled. Like a coward.”
Esdeath says nothing at first, but then, she laughs. She laughs long and hard, and Akame’s rage piques.
“Hah. I didn’t flee from our battle, Akame. I postponed it.”
“Even if it kills me… I’ll end you. Now.”
The searing pain of her trump card burns within her, and her new sense of power pushes Esdeath back. She falters, surprised by this, and is forced to go on the defensive as Akame’s speed builds.
Esdeath flings them both into the air upon a pillar of ice. They exchange several swipes of their weapons, but Esdeath’s rapier bends under Murasame’s force, and she loses her balance whilst they are midair. Akame succeeds in sending her spiraling down to earth, though the strike she aims for her opponent’s chest is blocked by a frozen shield. Momentary panic flickers in Esdeath’s eyes.
Murasame shakes in Akame’s grip, and it takes so much strength to pierce through Esdeath’s shield that she screams. The ice shatters, and the tip of the blade makes contact with Esdeath’s left arm.
For a second, Akame believes she’s won.
She has good reason to. Just a scratch from her Imperial Arms guarantees death—they are both well aware of that. The curse takes hold, and Esdeath heaves as its etchings make themselves visible along her hand. Saliva dribbles past her lips and Akame can see her jaw grind. However, Esdeath responds to this quicker than she foresees, and slices off her own arm.
The limb falls to the ground. A perverse, delirious laugh bubbles up in her throat before she comments on her excitement.
“Well, then. You’re finally getting serious.”
She sounds delighted, but Akame cannot help hearing something else laced within her voice.
Something akin to anguish. She isn’t sure. She’s never seen Esdeath actually express such an emotion.
Is it because of Tatsumi?
Esdeath kept stealing glances at him during the first phase of their battle. Akame herself has refused to look, because… it is too painful.
Before she can make any judgements, the fight resumes in full swing. Akame expects Esdeath to be at least inconvenienced by the lack of an arm, but she jerks her shoulder up, which causes an arc of blood to spray outward. Blinded, Akame flinches and blinks the gore from her eyes. Esdeath is as efficient at wielding ice as before and gives Akame zero time to recuperate.
The crimson markings on her skin blaze more fiercely as their swords scrape together. The piercing screech of steel against steel rings through the air. Akame kicks aside another shield, and Esdeath slides back.
The sound of her own ragged breathing signals Akame’s waning strength. Her enhancement isn’t meant to last long. She has to end things soon.
Esdeath points her rapier at her. “Come.”
She summons a new barrage of shields. Akame switches up her strategy, zipping around her so that she must protect herself from different angles. Esdeath watches her, now silent, before gasping as her final shield is destroyed.
Akame leaps forward. Her apparent goal is the general’s throat, yet she knows what is coming next, and prepares herself.
Slowly, the smirk Akame has been waiting for curls along Esdeath’s lips.
There is that, together with an unreadable glimmer of something in her eyes.
“Mahapadma!”
There is a violent flash of blue. It happens so fast Akame is only briefly aware of her cells freezing, but when time resumes and she descends, sword ready to slash its target, she falls through empty air.
Her body experiences the full force of the ground hitting her side. She cries out as her knees buckle, too shocked to balance herself. It almost knocks the wind out of her. However, if she stays down, Esdeath will take advantage of it, so she gulps down what little oxygen she can and rolls back onto her feet. Murasame is in front of her, eager to face its opponent again, except… she’s gone.
Esdeath is nowhere to be seen.
Akame’s eyebrows pinch together in confusion. Esdeath had used her trump card, had she not? Akame heard her cry out its name, had felt her molecules quiver until they stopped moving in her own body. In fact, she had been anticipating it.
Getting Esdeath to use Mahapadma was part of her plan all along; it had just been a matter of timing. If Akame had approximated how Esdeath’s mind worked, taking into account that she functioned quite predictably, she would perform the same attack used against Susanoo. In doing so, she would freeze time and kill Akame unaware—or so Akame would lead her to believe. Akame had schemed to use her own bloodlust against her. Now, she cannot perceive it at all.
From Esdeath’s point of view, Akame’s life lay in the palm of her hand. It didn’t make sense for her to withdraw. And yet, despite this, Esdeath is absent.
Had she seriously… run away?
That cannot be true. It would be unbecoming for her to flee, given Esdeath’s nature. She is too proud to do such a thing.
Perhaps something had gone wrong. Perhaps she had made a mistake executing her trump card, or a more plausible scenario, she had decided to strike from the shadows. This bewilders Akame, though she stays alert anyway. Even if Esdeath had managed to outsmart her, she cannot give her this victory.
Not after everything they’d been through to get here.
Holding her blade before her whilst whipping her head from side to side in search of her enemy, Akame scans the area. There is the wall of ice Esdeath had erected earlier, and the battered corpse of Shikoutazer next to it. She does not want to think about the fact Tatsumi is lying so close to her, his body likely still warm. Akame half-expects to discover Esdeath there, but nay. Her throat tightens and she pushes the tears down.
Seconds pass, and then minutes. Akame’s heart thrashes inside her ribcage like a trapped bird the longer time goes on. Esdeath does not reappear and shows no signs of returning to the battlefield.
With her back pressed against Shikoutazer’s shoulder, Akame waits, and continues waiting, but by then, she hears the cheers of the Empire’s residents outside along with the outraged roar of the Revolutionary Army. They are hungry for Esdeath’s head on a platter. With the Emperor and his Imperial Arms conquered, she was their last and only barrier to their salvation.
“Akame!” cries a familiar voice.
Akame does not need to turn to know it is Najenda. Whether she has smashed open a hole in their ice prison or has scaled the wall, Akame doesn’t care to check, although Najenda is quickly at her side regardless of her methods. Her eyes dart around before settling on Akame’s shaking form. Little War Horn has already begun to fade.
“Thank goodness you’re alright. What happened?” Najenda asks. “I saw Esdeath seal herself in with you. She… isn’t here.” She, too, drags her gaze across the empty arena. “…Did you kill her? Where’s her body?”
Akame sinks to her knees. The tears spill over.
“She’s gone, Najenda. I failed you.”
Shaking the recollection from her head, Akame gnashes her teeth together and focuses on the nonsense Esdeath has just spewed.
“…Postponed it? For what reason? To prove what?!”
Esdeath looks at her as if her reasoning is logical, but to Akame, Esdeath is going against the very principles she lives so rigidly by.
“You… you said yourself that your work wasn’t finished! That those who can’t win should perish! So, according to your logic, you never won against me. I might have failed to eliminate you then, but I didn’t surrender. I was willing to take you on.”
The strong will conquer, and the weak will die.
That is the law Esdeath follows, isn’t it? She’d even referred to Tatsumi as weak, although she claims to have loved him.
“This makes you a hypocrite, Esdeath. You state the weak should grovel before the strong, or however you want to word it, except all you did was cower in a hole until now.”
Esdeath waits until she is finished, and shrugs her words off. “Oh, I still stand by that philosophy, and I meant it when I said I’ll start another war. But let’s be clear: you didn’t win either. You simply weren’t deserving of my time. I don’t fight distracted opponents.”
Distracted? Akame feels her blood boil. She hadn’t been distracted. Her focus had sharpened itself to lock on to Esdeath and Esdeath alone. Murasame’s edge glints in the dull light, and she readies herself into a battle stance. The markings from Little War Horn have not entirely gone away, and they still sting a little, but she must ignore it.
“That can’t be the entire truth. You’re not making any sense.”
“Are you really so thick-skulled that you don’t even realize it yourself?”
Finally, Esdeath unsheathes her rapier. She holds it lopsidedly, with no second arm to balance herself against.
“Just look at you,” she says, sneering. “You’re blindly swinging your sword around, and for what, the greater good? What a waste of expertise. It might be admirable if you could only see two feet in front of you.”
“Whatever you assume about me is irrelevant. You will not escape a second time. You’ve already lived five months longer than you should have.”
“You aren’t interested in what else I have to say? Despite the fact your curiosity is at a tipping point? You’re dying to know.”
She exclaims in surprise as Akame manages to knock her rapier out of her grasp before their second fight can start. The rapier flies into the air and ends up stuck in the grass several feet away. Esdeath turns to it, but she is on her back before she can register what has just happened.
Akame leaps forward to pin her in place with her thighs. “So tell me, if you want me to know so badly!”
Murasame is now seconds away from making its mark on Esdeath’s throat. Akame is seething, and frankly, she is becoming quite sick of her ploys.
But to add to her confusion, Esdeath doesn’t try to buck her off. She instead smirks at her, and it takes every ounce of willpower for Akame not to run her through on the spot.
Esdeath then cranes her neck upwards in the attempt to move her chin away from the business end of Akame’s sword. The tip remains half an inch from her windpipe, Akame just has to nudge it forwards and her last failure will finally be rectified—though in the end, curiosity wins her over, and she delays until Esdeath explains herself.
“Because… I saw something in your eyes that day, when I used my trump card. Something that changed my mind about fighting you there and then, even if I had to fall back and wait a bit longer for the war I desire.”
“And what, exactly, did you see?” Akame snarls, pondering over how she had thought the exact same thing about Esdeath at the time.
“…Hopelessness.”