The towering buildings around them felt like silent onlookers to a grim spectacle. The moon slipped behind a bank of clouds, casting the street into deeper shadows. A rain storm seemed to pick this time to come.

Rinne's mind raced, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Think, Rinne. Focus. She couldn't afford to let panic consume her—not now.

"Shigure," she called out firmly, attempting to reach whatever part of him might still be listening. "I know you're in there. Fight it!"

For a moment, he hesitated. His amber eyes flickered, a shadow of confusion passing over his features. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

The wind whipped around them, carrying the scent of rain. A lone paper lantern hanging outside a closed shop flickered, its soft glow swaying with the gusts.

"Don't make me do this," she pleaded.

Shigure responded with a sudden dash, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. His katana sliced through the air without hesitation. Rinne barely managed to dodge to the side, the sword slicing off a piece of her clothing.

The rain continued to fall, soaking them both within moments. The water slicked their hair to their faces, mingling with sweat and blurring their vision. The streets glistened under the sheen of rain, reflections of neon signs creating a kaleidoscope of colors on the wet ground.

Above them, the silver-haired stranger watched with twisted delight. "How touching," he mused, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "But futile. The Kitsune's curse is not so easily broken."

Rinne's heart hammered in her chest as she barely dodged another strike from Shigure. His katana whistled past her ear, the air slicing so close it left her skin tingling with the aftermath of the near miss.

She stumbled backward, eyes wide, the realization sinking in—Shigure was getting faster. Too fast. Each swing was more precise, more powerful. His mana output was ramping up, swirling around him like a storm, growing denser with each passing second.

It hit her then. He's not holding back anymore. The small part of Shigure that had been fighting the Kitsune’s possession was losing, and now, he was a mere puppet on a string.

"Crap..." Rinne muttered under her breath, cursing the situation and the suffocating feeling of helplessness creeping up on her.

Without warning, four dark tentacles erupted from beneath her clothes, writhing like serpents in the air. The tentacles coiled around her defensively, moving with the same instinct that came from years of training.

But Shigure was relentless.

He came at her again, his katana flashing through the air. Rinne’s tentacles lashed out to block, colliding with the blade in a shower of sparks. But the moment of resistance was fleeting—Shigure’s katana sliced through her tentacles like they were nothing, severing them cleanly. She winced as pain rippled through her, the tentacles twitching, retracting before reforming quickly, but slower each time.

She dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding another swing, but Shigure was quicker this time, following up with a powerful kick that she didn’t see coming. His leg connected with her side, and she felt the mana-infused blow slam into her ribs, sending her flying through the air.

Boom. The impact rattled through her like the world had slammed a fist into her spine. Rinne hit the pavement hard, the gritty asphalt biting into her skin as she skidded to a stop. Dust and tiny shards of debris clung to her face and hair. She groaned, pushing herself up on trembling arms, her muscles screaming louder than her brain wanted to acknowledge. Her lip split as her teeth sank into it, and the faint taste of blood coated her tongue.

Above her, Shigure was coming again. He didn’t run, didn’t rush—he didn’t need to. His steps were steady, his katana glinting dully in the hazy light. That cursed mana cloak surrounded him, flickering in the air like a malevolent spirit, a malicious shroud that turned every move he made into a battering ram. A kick from him wasn’t just a kick; it was like being hit by a wrecking ball. Her attacks weren’t getting through, not even close. The cloak absorbed everything, leaving her punches and tendrils as useless as spitballs against steel.

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Rinne forced herself upright, one knee buckling before she could lock it. Her glare shot upward, her breath hissing through her teeth. Damn it, she thought. He wasn’t just stronger than before—he was faster, more brutal, more... wrong.

She could feel it, that faint trace of Shigure buried beneath the malice, but it was like catching the ghost of a shadow. Too far away, too faint to reach.

She barely had time to think before he was on her again. His katana cut the air with a shrill whisper, a sound that stuck in her ears like a mosquito’s buzz. Her tentacles shot out on instinct, twisting through the air to block. The blade met them with a spark of light, slicing through two in one fluid motion. Pain lanced through her chest, and she stumbled back, gasping, her hands clutching at the dead weight where her defenses had been moments ago.

Shigure didn’t wait. His fist followed fast, catching her square in the chest. The breath punched out of her lungs as she flew backward, hitting the street hard and rolling like a ragdoll before slamming into a line of parked cars. The impact crunched metal like tin foil, and she barely had time to wonder whose insurance would cover this before her knees buckled again. She could feel the blood trickling from somewhere—her nose, her lip, her side—it all blurred together.

He’s not just getting faster, she thought. He’s getting stronger.

The sound of his katana scraping the ground was her only warning before he came at her again. This time, she didn’t bother trying to block with the tentacles—what was left of them couldn’t even keep up. She dodged, barely, her stomach twisting as his blade passed inches from her side. The bricks behind her caught the brunt of the blow, bursting into a shower of dust and rubble.

“Shigure...” The word scraped out of her throat like gravel. She straightened, forcing her shaking legs to hold her weight. “Snap out of it. I... don’t want to fight you.” Her voice broke on the last word.

But Shigure didn’t answer. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter. His katana rose again, that cursed amber light burning in his eyes like twin coals. She ducked, stumbled, felt the blade nick her side, the sting of pain sharp enough to make her gasp. Warm blood trickled down her ribs, and her vision swam for a moment before snapping back into focus.

He was faster than her, stronger than her, and relentless. He wouldn’t stop. Not until—

The thought died in her mind as the last of her tentacles fell, his blade severing them cleanly. Her head swam, her muscles quaked. She couldn’t keep this up.

Shigure didn’t give her time to think. He moved again, the blade aimed for her throat. She rolled instinctively, the ground scraping her skin raw as she moved just in time. His katana struck where she’d been, the concrete splitting beneath the force of his strike.

Shigure didn’t stop. He threw the katana this time, the blade spinning through the air like a missile. Rinne dropped to the ground, the sword missing her by inches. It struck the wall behind her, embedding itself deep into the bricks with a sound like a gunshot. Her chest heaved, her eyes darting toward him—and there he was. Already at the hilt.

It wasn’t teleportation; it was pure speed. Just like that time in Aka Manto’s dimension.

In one smooth motion, he turned, swung, and unleashed a wave of energy that tore through the air with a scream. The mana crescent hit her before she could react, tearing through her shoulder in an instant. She hit the ground hard, blood pouring from the gaping wound.

Her vision swam, a distorted haze of streetlights and dark silhouettes, like she was staring through cracked glass. Every nerve in her body was alight, screaming with the kind of pain that made the edges of her mind start to fray. But none of it mattered. Not the blood pooling beneath her, not the sharp sting of air dragging through her raw throat.

Because Shigure was still coming.

His blade caught the faint glow of the flickering streetlamp, shining like a sliver of moonlight—strangely beautiful, like death.

Rinne exhaled, her breath shaking as the thought settled over her like a heavy blanket.

This is it, isn’t it?

Her legs refused to move. Her body, broken and bleeding, had nothing left to give. She could only watch as Shigure’s amber eyes burned brighter, their glow cutting through the darkness. There wasn’t any malice in his expression. That would have been easier. No, his face was blank, hollow, like a doll being moved by unseen strings.

That made it worse somehow.

She closed her eyes for just a moment, the corners of her lips twitching upward in something that might have been a smile if her face weren’t caked in blood.

Tonight’s the night I die.