I walked home with a smile on my face, for once.

My hands were stuffed in my pockets, my jeans were pasted with sand, and a pale scarf that seemed sewn from stardust coiled around my neck.

A gift from Senbonzakura.

We'd sat and watched the sun slip behind the horizon, watched the clouds glisten gold and plum, watched the sea sparkle as if trillions of stars hid just beneath its surface. And finally, when the world had been blanketed by a fiercely inky black, he'd turned to me, and smiled.

I'd sat there dumbly, stunned by how outrageously pretty it was.

He'd thanked me, for some odd reason, then taken his scarf and wrapped it around my neck. I'd stuttered and protested, waved my hands about my head, but he'd simply shaken his head ruefully and burst into silken flower petals.

A man of few words, my sword.

My smile deepened.

I loved him.

Really, I did.

The lamp light was watery, my room's walls were chalky, and I was unnervingly, unnaturally bored.

It was a little bit ridiculous. So much had happened recently: I'd found myself in the starlit world, I'd forged a sword with flames that didn't burn, I'd talked with a man made of flower petals.

I'd killed three men.

Yet here I was, lounging on my bed, bored out of my brains.

What an odd life I live.

I breathed in, breathed out. Drummed out a beat on my mattress, stopped when I realised how badly I was holding the rhythm. Hummed a tune, stopped when I heard my inability to hold a note.

Music wasn't a talent, apparently.

Why don't you go out?

I blinked, half-surprised at the comment. He'd been quiet for a long while.

"Few reasons, I s'pose. I don't have a costume, for one. I don't have any kind of training, nor do I have any sort of name or persona. And after my last unprepared escapade… well. I'd like to play it safe."

Hm - Give me a second.

I cocked an eyebrow, but didn't voice the obvious question. Two, three seconds later, there was a puff of petals to my right. I glanced, and choked.

There, on my bed, lay black and white robes made of the finest cloth I'd ever seen. A long, slender and pale coat, lined with a deep and proud blue. Eastern black robes, fringed with stark white. And, of course, Senbonzakura, embraced by a sheath of the purest, palest ivory.

I reached over and thumbed the elegant coat, my touch light and hesitant, afraid I'd ruin or mar it, somehow. The silk flowed like river-water through my fingers, so cool and fluid I doubted it was sewn from anything natural or human.

Beautiful.

Far too beautiful for someone like me.

But I slipped the robes on anyway, knowing the pride it would bring Senbonzakura.

There was a full-length mirror-cracked, and caked with grease-that leaned against my wardrobe. I walked to it, grabbed Senbonzakura's scarf in a moment of inspiration. It slid smoothly about my throat, and when I took that final step and stood before the mirror, my breath left me in a stunned gasp.

Deepest black and coldest white snaked around my body, a graceful flow to the colours that seemed somehow inhuman. And the scarf, soft as fresh grass and smelling of lavender, gently kissing my jaw, my throat. Senbonzakura, the wood smooth beneath my fingers, a quiet threat and a deadly promise.

I'd never thought I could look this good, this beautiful.

But I did, somehow.

It was a magical feeling.

I laughed, and spun. The black, white and blue cloth billowed about me, so marvellously dramatic I could already imagine myself flowing out a door or darting across a rooftop, robes fluttering like wings.

The outer coat is a Haori, Senbonzakura said with a smile in his voice, the black undergarments are the Shikkahuso.

I grinned, my eyes crinkling just above the scarf.

"They're amazing."

That they are. Now, I'd like you to try something for me, so please go jump out the window.

I blinked.

Mhm. Bad phrasing?

"...A bit."

I'm sure I'll learn.

"I'm doubtful, somehow."

Taylor, child, I have something to teach you, so please jump out the window.

I frowned.

You'll be fine.

"Well-"

Taylor.

"...fine. Just this once."

I shuffled over to the window and heaved it open, straining against the rust-ridden lock for just a second. I stared out at the night-smeared borough, glanced down to the gap between my building and the next.

A broken leg, at least.

"So I just… hop out?"

Yes.

"...right."

I breathed deeply. Senbonzakura would never lie to me, nor would he ever try to hurt me. I trusted him.

A bit too much, really.

I set my foot against the window sill.

Gripped the frame so tight I could feel blood pump.

Stepped up.

Hesitated, for a second.

And jumped.

The open air enveloped me, embraced me. I started to fall, felt a tugging in my gut. I followed that tugging, swiped at it desperately, and then I was standing on a rooftop.

I blinked.

"What?"

Shunpo.

"...What?"

A form of short range teleportation, although more along the lines of exceptionally rapid movement. A core skill, and one I hope you master.

"Jesus," I whispered. "Anything else you want to tell me?"

Best saved for later, I'd imagine.

"Yeah. I- yeah."

Moving on?

"Moving on."

Good. I doubt I need to explain how useful the Shunpo is?

"No."

And really, he didn't. Heroes always had the issue of transport, of getting to the crimes they needed to stop. Tinkers had their vehicles, usually, and plenty of capes could fly. There were plenty that couldn't do either, of course, and they were always at a disadvantage - there was a reason the Triumvirate was made entirely of fliers.

This was even better. The potential in combat alone...

Well, Taylor. Tonight, the entire city is your playground.

I grinned.

Flying had been a dream of mine, ever since I'd seen Alexandria send Leviathan soaring across a city block with a punch.

And while this wasn't quite flying -

It was close enough.

I laughed and whooped and cheered as I danced over the rooftops of Brockton Bay.

The Shunpo was so fast and quick it felt like I had springs in my heels, as I pounced from tiles to boards to gravel. I'd burst from the air with a thin hiss of sound, my toes would just barely brush against cold stone, and then I'd be gone, in an instant.

It was quite thrilling.

Having fun?

I stopped my frenzy of teleportation atop the rooftop of some small building - it was hard to talk while slipping in and out of space.

"Yeah." I grinned, exuberant. "This is… fantastic. Everything I've ever dreamed of."

I could feel his smile. Good.

I drank deeply from the icy night air, it's cold burn like crisp mint on my lips and nose. I sat down. I wanted to simply wonder at things for a bit. No weight on my shoulders, no thoughts on my mind; just me, and the moonlit city below me.

I hung my legs off the building, swung them to and fro as I looked to the sparkling sky. It was naked, cloudless, and the stars were bright as lanterns, radiant against the inky sky.

I closed my eyes, leaned back and splayed my arms out, adoring the caress of silk on skin. Such a wonderful costume, much too wonderful for me, really, and -

TAYLOR!

Raw panic that wasn't my own slammed at my mind, ripping the relaxation from it and leaving only fright and confusion. I darted away with a Shunpo, heart slamming against my chest, and stumbled into existence on the adjacent edge of the rooftop.

Standing where I had been standing, a thick knife held in hand, was Oni Lee. Ash dusted his black-clad shoulders, and his mask was ridged with verdant and scarlet.

One second later, and that knife would've been rammed through my throat.

Senbonzakura came to my hand unbidden, the handle soft as satin between shaking fingers. The blade glimmered gently in the moonlight.

Oni Lee cocked his head.

You recall what I said earlier, Taylor? About the priceless value of life?

"Yes."

Forget all of it. This man intends to kill you. Kill him first.

"That doesn't seem-"

Taylor.

"Fine."

I tried my best to bury my terror, and raised Senbonzakura before me.

It's tip quivered in the air.

Oni Lee tugged a grenade from his belt.

I took a shaky breath.

A click, as the pin was gently tugged.

I burst from existence, stepping from the air behind him with Senbonzakura poised. He grunted, and then I brought my blade down, hard as I could. His clone burst into a cloud of pale ash which plastered my exposed eyes. I staggered backwards, free hand pawing at my face, and Shunpoed over to another rooftop, trying to get away, to get space.

Gravel shifted behind me, and I threw myself down on instinct alone - a knife whistled above my head not a second later.

I flinched.

Death was only a mistake away.

Oni Lee clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder, hauled me upwards. Then, before I could so much as breathe, he dragged his knife across my throat. Only, it got caught on the thick folds of my scarf, giving me the barest frantic half-second to jam Senbonzakura into his leg. The clone burst into ash, again, along with the knife that would've killed me, were it not for a layer of cloth.

My blood ran hot with fear. My hands were sodden with sweat. My heart rattled against my ribs.

God, I was scared.

Taylor.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. There, but not there.

Fear brings death faster than one's foe. Don't think, don't hesitate - act.

I squeezed my hands tight over the hilt of Senbonzakura, searching for some, any, comfort in it's blade.

I found none.

After all, it was a sword, meant for this kind of living, this kind of killing.

Not some toy to be cuddled and coddled.

"Scatter, Senbonzakura."

The sword slipped away quietly, the normally bright blades mute and dim without the warm glow of the sun.

Oni Lee came from behind, two grenades in hand. I swung Senbonzakura's bare hilt, didn't watch as the clone was torn apart by barely-there petals. Instead my eyes scoured the rooftops, searching for Oni Lee, for glints of red or green.

There.

I didn't think, I moved, to a rooftop where I'd caught the barest glimpse of colour, and appeared behind Oni Lee, brought the petals down on him. He threw himself to the side, and I did too, barely avoiding the knife that came at my head from behind. I lashed out again with Senbonzakura, and the two bodies burst into the same frustrating ash.

I blurred to another rooftop, swung, and he dodged and struck in the same instant, two slender knives held in hand. Senbonzakura reformed from invisible petals and I awkwardly parried his blow, steel tingling and sparks glinting.

He struck three more times, each blow so fluid they seemed part of a dance. I barely blocked each-each strike made my arms shake, down to the bone-then Shunpoed behind him. Away from the blow of the clone that had appeared behind me; I thrust Senbonzakura through the first's head, flicked the blade and blew the second's head clean from it's shoulders.

He'd slipped away from me once more, and I couldn't afford to lose my momentum-fear would rush back into my heart-so I spun, and chased him.

Over the rooftops we zigzagged, blades sparking and sweat pouring and eyes darting to and fro. There wasn't a second to doubt, wasn't a second to fear, wasn't a second to do anything but move and swing. He was that fast, and I was that slow - the second I stopped moving, started thinking, he'd slip a knife between my ribs and throw me from the sky.

A lunge dodged around, a return strike with a throbbing elbow. Strike, block, then ash. Shunpo.

A heavy-handed swing, punished with a knee and a fist, a knife barely dodged. Ash. Shunpo.

Petals that didn't quite glitter and glow, three faint javelins bursting through cloth and ash. Shunpo.

Swing.

Shunpo.

Cut.

Ash.

Slice.

Stab.

Shunpo.

Ash.

A mistake away from death.

Shunpo.

Sword and knife clashed once, twice, thrice, then he burst into that same sickening ash and I burst through the air once more, onto a rooftop of five Oni Lee's.

I hissed something that wasn't quite a word as I realised that he'd been stringing me along, as the clones sprinted towards me with live grenades held in hand, as a mistake was held like a knife to my throat. No time to doubt, no time to think, so I spread Senbonzakura's petals through the air and spun, lashing out at everywhere at once. The clones were thrown back but their grenades weren't, so I slammed Senbonzakura's hilt into the ground and gathered the petals around me in a mockery of a hug.

The explosion was colossal, a raucous thunder of sound and tremours and light that I couldn't quite see, an explosion that rattled my teeth in my jaw, an explosion that set fire to cement.

I sent my petals shooting out over the rooftop, hoping, praying that I'd catch Oni Lee off guard.

He came from above and slammed me into the ground, clipped something to my back and vanished as soon as he did. I leapt up and shucked the cloak instantly, darted away with a Shunpo, again and again - and then my feet were whipped from under me.

I crashed into the rooftop, scrabbled at gravel and looked over my shoulder, saw something one rooftop away as black as pitch that made space buckle and twist. It had a gravity to it, a weight, and that weight yanked me towards it, crunched my shoulder against stone and sent me over the edge. I floated for a second, weightless - then I felt my body jerk towards that impossibly black dot.

If it could crush steel, stone and space, what would it do to bone and skin, I wondered?

I was too far from the rooftop to jam Senbonzakura through it, too far from the lip to cling onto it. So I let myself be dragged towards this impossible dot, let it grow closer and closer until I could feel my bones start to bend under its weight. Then I used Shunpo, and went through the black hole.

My body felt wrong, suddenly.

My heart stuttered and stumbled. My lungs were suddenly brittle as glass. My bones softened and my blood thickened. I tasted rust and fat, and my skin was coated with damp ash. I felt the urge to fall to my knees, to curl up and never wake.

The weighted dot faded to nothing.

I couldn't stop moving.

Stillness brought death.

I heaved myself up, choked as my arm burned-I'd broken it, somehow-and raised Senbonzakura with my left hand.

Oni Lee was behind me, suddenly. I lashed out awkwardly, that grace and power I'd just been finding buried under layers of soft pain. The petals sliced the clone to bits anyway, ripping at cloth and fake skin and leaving thin trails of ash.

Another, and the next, and the next, until I was struck by the vague spark of an idea that quickly blossomed into a trick that would never work.

I tried it anyway.

When Oni Lee appeared next, knife raised high, my Haori slipped over my shoulders in an unnaturally bright burst of flower petals, different from the ones that made up my blade, somehow. Oni Lee, the real Oni Lee, caught in the millisecond between teleportation and duplication, reeled drunkenly, blinded and stunned.

I capitalised with an awkward jerk of Senbonzakura, and ripped his eye from his face with a lance of flower petals.

The man howled and staggered backwards.

Fell from the roof.

I lurched to the corner and looked over, saw nothing but empty air sprinkled with thin ash.

I swayed for several seconds, frozen in time, before I collapsed backwards.

Fuck.

Fuck.

My heartbeat thundered in my chest, in my ears. My skin felt hot.

Senbonzakura was quiet.

I couldn't string my thoughts together. Tried to collect myself, reevaluate something, anything, but failed to. If Oni Lee came back I'd be easy pickings, but I couldn't get back up. Couldn't put myself together.

A cape danced with death.

I'd heard that, once, somewhere.

Everything that I'd just done - death had been right around the corner. If my sword had slipped from my sweaty fingers? Death. If I'd tripped on some loose stone, smacked my head against the rooftop? Death. If I'd felt Oni Lee a second too late, had used the Shunpo-that I'd learned barely an hour earlier-a second too late, I'd be dead.

But If I wanted to continue, wanted to forge onwards... this kind of stutter over the lines of life and death would have to become normal. Routine.

I'd have to learn to dance with my life on the line.

I'd have to learn how to swing a sword.

Short, I know.

Sorry? To receive only one short chapter after a month-and-a-half long wait is a real kick in the balls for all of you, but I've spent November working on NaNoWriMo and the show me and my theatre group finally got around to finishing, so time hasn't been something I've had to spare. Add that to school's ever-growing workload and my relatively troublesome inspiration issues, and you've got a formula perfect for ruining a good writing schedule.

In all honesty, I've got no idea what I'm going to write next. Maybe I'll update A Bleeding Heart, maybe I'll start something new (something Soulsborne, certainly) or maybe I'll just abandon Fanfiction altogether, and try to forge my way as someone who writes his own shit. Either way, I probably won't revisit Grace and Elegance for some time - the Wormverse has lost the charm it used to have.

Thanks for sticking with this grumpy (British) wanker, and thank you in advance for those who leave kindly reviews. It makes a difference, if a small one.

-Ten Tonne Skeleton