"Don’t shout."

You sharply froze, nervously squeezing your lips when felt the blade from your neck and a hoarse voice behind your back. Man firmly pressed you to his chest, holding you for the belly.

"I need food and overnight. I’ll not kill you if you’ll be obedient."

You neatly nodded, trying not to hurt by the sword blade, and he turned you face to him. Shinobi. Jesus, the hired killer stands in your house in the middle of the night. He tiredly put his forehead on your shoulder. It seems he was injured.

"Don’t be afraid. Don’t… be afraid. Just feed me and let me sleep... Uh, anywhere."