"It's been a while."

"So it has."

"How did it end up like this...huh...Akame?"

"I honestly don't know what to tell you Tatsumi."

The two stood adjacent, strong and still in the middle of a glass lake. high above the Moonlight illumination reflected off the stained marble floor, glistening through the pane like a piercing sliver of pure shine. Both assassins upheld ghastly emotionless gazes fixated upon each other, unwavering between each pair of solemn eyes. Sea green clashed with crimson red during their intense oculus battle. this was the first time they had seriously faced each other in five years, and both felt the rising tension weighing in the icy atmosphere. Breezes of wintry wisp complimented this unfortunate fateful encounter.

In the years that had passed, she looked almost the same. Unchanged and still as pure and monotone as the day he first set his attention upon her during their memorable occurrence. Her raven black, flowing hair had grown out even longer than before, still cascading gently down her slender shoulders. Her narrowing spheres still had the same frosted centre, with an underlining of unparalleled kindness and caring that only he stumbled upon. The faded, pinkish marks left from her trump card still spiralled around her limbs and body, like pristine tattoos imprinted upon her pale, porcelain complexion, contrasted by a shrouding darkness that encircled the both of them. It was either that, or her typical black attire and sleeveless trench coat. In conclusion, she remained quite mesmerisingly beautiful, and hopefully the same incredibly loving friend he possessed before.

"you look well, Akame."

"Domo."

Akame took it upon herself to observe his physical changes, though slight, but still noticeable. His well-sculpted shoulders had become broader as well as becoming slightly muscular around his upper torso, the results of intense daily training. His auburn brown locks had gotten longer, (like in the anime) and his face matured well that he kept his ruggedly handsome features, but mixed in with a certain new alluring something that elicited tiny suppressed firework explosions of excitement. He wore his usual clothes; yellow sweater, brown chino pants and a white winter jacket enveloping him in warmth. He was still the same naive comrade she once adored to no end.

"I already know why you're here."

"Yeah I know you do."

It pained Tatsumi to admit he was following orders, just like the soldier he was, following a commanders orders mindlessly. If anything, he couldn't defy the boss's orders. He was thankful for so many things she had the compassion to grant him like a home, food, friends, work, and he owed her his life after the attack on Capital City. He had recognised the deeply disgraced, saddened expression plastered all over Najenda's face when she gave the final verdict, but after prolonging Akame's capture for such a long time, there was nothing to be done. If anyone, it had to be him to take up the job.

It had been so painfully long since she had last conversed with him properly. Akame wanted to talk more, say so much to him, ask so many questions which puzzled her everyday like vexing little obstructions stuck in the back of her dwindling mind. Just staring at his dumbly innocent face made her heart race at rapid speeds uncontrollably. What were these involuntary sensations she was experiencing? Maybe a sense of nostalgia?

"You know I really didn't want to do this."

"I know."

She knew about everything that was going on, regardless of her ignorance. She knew what his purpose in being here was, and it hurt to reminisce the words she said to him on her departure. As much as she cared for him, she treasured her freedom equally. the right to be removed from all responsibilities and break when she needed. Akame still hadn't felt any progress on recovery from that horrific incident.

"So you need to take me back..."

"Yeah...Will you come back with me?"

"I can't without a fight, you know that."

"Yeah I guess I did." Tatsumi sighed out, drawing out his sword. The blade he brandished gleamed in the night's vehement air, tempering the frosted metal material. He swung it around his body nonchalantly, though in a stylish, practised fashion, experimenting with the adjusting weight curiously. The short sword was the same model as his older weapon, bringing back the memories of days when they fought valiantly together against a collective enemy.

"I apologise in advance." He playfully chuckled out. Akame returned with a weak smile.

"Don't be cocky."

Unsheathing his razor was hard as his ominous eyes traced the wicked lining of the steel. He was conflicted between emotions, careful not to let a wave of surprising feeling overcome him all at once. Tatsumi wanted to help her, run away with her and talk, catch up, then again he didn't want to disobey his superior, disappoint his boss.

Akame barely managed to speak again in her signature blank tone. she nearly croaked out her desired sentence, due to tingles of anxiety creeping up her spine one by one individually, already showing signs of perspiration drops, threatening to shake her foundation and crumble her whole world down to shreds of her hardened attitude. Her stomach was churning with meagre aggression and sorrow. Was it even possible for her to feel this way? Was even possible to doubt her own feelings? What had happened to the vicious, brutal assassin never showing signs of fear during a battle.

"If that it what you wish." The screeching sound of her Murasame grinding against her sheath was worse than death itself. they were going to fight. Two friends, fighting, but for what reason? Why were they even bothering to submit to this? Completely relieving the blade of it's cover, Murasame arose, curved in the eerie shade of moon.

Both readied themselves into a stance, strengthened and firm. Tatsumi positioned his dominant right arm down with his fist clenched around his leather hilt tighter than ever. His left was raised in front with his index and middle curved to gauge the distance and calculate the necessary speed, not to mention general balance. His figure was low, meant for speed and agility, not meaningful heavy hits. There was no way of predicting her movements, reading her thoughts. Her face may have had nothing written upon it, but inside he could sense her inner turmoil and fury. An opponent she faced was met with an inhuman wrath, comparable to a demon's torturous barrage. He promised relentlessness, and yet they agreed that then next time they would meet it would be on a happy note.

Opposite him Akame had leaned back into her own fighting pose, both trembling hands clasped around her katana hilt raised above her left shoulder, both legs in a bent backwards. There styles were similar, yet held different roles on the field.

Both leapt forward at extraordinary speed, weapons poised and ready to strike. they both bounded over to each other, monstrous auras radiating as if two demons were facing each other. He just wanted her to come home, and she wished him to stop fighting.

"How did it end up like this?"

"I'm sorry." They both whispered under their breathe in unison.

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one-shot guys sorry. Not as intense fighting as my other stories but yeah just a little short story to get you something cute xx love chu