BANG!

SPLAT!

For a split moment, Blade's mind went numb, as she felt the sharp, metallic projectile pierce her head, causing blood to splatter all over the mirror beside her, as a metallic aftertaste is felt on her tongue, with a smooth, captivating red liquid escaping past her lips, dragging itself in a line down her chin, dripping onto the floor.

--She must have died.

Her eyes, however, remain open, her gaze not faltering. She quickly reaches for her sword, riddled with cracks, said cracks and lines glowing with a sanguine tint. One swift movement of her hand, and-

SLASH!

THUD!

-the men who attempted to relieve her of the burden of breathing, walking, living, are now lying on the floor, painting the previously shiny, white tiled floor of the bathroom in red.

She looks down at them with her piercing, cold red eyes.

If only she could also fall in the sweet embrace of death.

Her attention is then averted to the mirror. The reflection of her face is blocked off by a large splash of (her) blood. Her mind swirls with thoughts.

'The soothing, yet cold, embrace of death - oh, how I want to indulge myself in it, and yet...

...I'm still here.'

Her seemingly endless array of thoughts is interrupted by the sound of the door being kicked open. She snaps her head towards the source.

It's you, panting, looking at her.

Blade's attention is, once again, back on the mirror - as she looks at the blood painted all over it, as if it was a blank canvas. The blood, while covering the reflection of her face, didn't appear to cover your own - instead, it was, miraculously, around your face - like a picture frame.

That's when memories flashed in her head. Memories of you. How you always tried to be close to her, how you scolded her, tried to reassure her that she should continue living. And up until this moment, her heart did not waver - she will meet her end, regardless of your opinion.

...but right now, something inside her, just...

...twisted.

She will live.

Not for herself,

but for you.