Alexander has been your bodyguard for two years now. You two have become quite close. It doesn’t matter how many times you ask him to use his blades, he tells you no. He fears you’ll cut yourself.

It’s a miracle, though, as with enough puppy eyes and sweet touches he lends you both katana’s. Their sharp ends glisten in the dim light of the living room.

The happy moment ends quickly as his expression changes to one of worry at the incredibly small sight of blood. It dribbles down your finger, but he looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“What did I tell you?“ He charges for the bandaids and antiseptic, quickly pulling you with him.