Post by Katsumi Shinomori on May 5, 2015 20:03:47 GMT -5
A loud gasp sounded from Katsumi and she went shooting up in bed, panting heavily and eyes wide with fright. Her heart was beating wildly and sweat dripped from her form, tears in the corner of her dark hues, staring straight into the darkness of her room. It was difficult to breathe, despite taking in as much air as she was, and she slipped out of bed, staggering out. Her scars and her chest ached, and the petite girl hugged at her chest.
She had woken Sebastian up, who was, of course, concerned, and so the rogue muttered with difficulty that she was fine, quickly making her way out of the bedroom, tripping once or twice in the darkness. Katsumi didn't want to worry him any more than she already had, and would deal with it on her own, at least for now. She wasn't ready to talk yet, especially right after the night terror, when it still gripped with an iron fist at her mind, her lungs, her body, her soul, her everything, pressing down and causing her to crack a little further than before.
Making her way into the bathroom, she closed the door and turned on the light, rushing to the toilet. Bringing up the lid, her body lurched and the rogue felt heat scald her throat, vomit tumbling out, splashing into the water. She did it again, and a tear rolled down her cheek. Eventually, there was nothing left, she wiped her mouth with her sleeved arm, and Katsumi stumbled to the sink, hunching over it, gasping raggedly. Droplets of sweat dripped from her nose, soaking her sweatshirt, and even rolling down her smooth legs. Her dark locks were drenched, wisps clinging to her cheeks, her neck, and sticking to her paled flesh, and Katsumi, glancing up at the mirror and grimacing at the reflection through her gasps, brows furrowing a bit.
She felt unbearably hot, and so the rogue stripped off her sweatshirt, tossing it to the side, just down to her boxers. As her chest rose heavily up and down, the light shows some of her scars, some red, others more fades, and some barely distinguishable, but some of them ached terribly, the pain almost agonizing, as though she was receiving the pain right then. Tears slipped down her cheeks and, hugging her chest, Katsumi staggered to her knees, laying down on her side and staring at the wall with wide eyes, trying to steady her breathing and to push back the hurt, but it still felt fresh. The pain of the night, the terror gripping her just as much as it had back then. No matter how much she tried to tell herself it wasn't real, not anymore, that it was a past event, Katsumi couldn't shake it. Her psyche was too warped just then, barred with no way to escape. All she could do now was face her horror head-on and wait for it to ride on by. And so, ducking her head and curling up into a ball, the girl began to sob, body shaking violently.
"N-No," she breathed, words barely coming out as her throat tightly constricted. Katsumi clenched her eyes shut, fingers digging deeply into her back, breaking skin and causing blood to rise and intermix with the sweat and the fear with which she was stricken...
Biting down on her lip, Katsumi peeked beneath her bandages and frowned. Her flesh over her ribs were still blue and purple, and there was a sharp pain whenever she twisted her side. If they weren't broken, they were certainly cracked, and the girl restrained herself from sighing. But, removing her fingers from the bandage, they pulled down her grey sweater and her hands fell to her lap. She turned her head and dark hues stared off at the cracked wallpaper, eyebrows furrowing as concern glimmered within her eyes.
Beatings, they were a common thing, but within the last few weeks, perhaps even months, really, their frequency had increased. She wasn't entirely certain for the reason, trying everything in her power to not set her father off, but her efforts were all for naught. When he looked at her, there was a queer look in his eyes, clearly pained, and he would quickly fly into a rage, ranting about the ghosts of pasts returning and her, his daughter, being poison, a reflection of the dead. He started muttering incoherently, pulling at his hair, at his clothes, pacing rooms, and his drinking grew substantially worse; what little she could make out from his ramblings involved her mother. The assassin had been terrified of her father for many years, living in constant fear of another beating or meeting his disapproval yet again, but this was the first time she experienced a perpetual anxiousness about dying. She was petrified one of these days, he would beat her until she stopped breathing.
Katsumi's arms, her legs, her back, and her face held bruises, some older from a couple of weeks ago and others fresh, from just yesterday afternoon, when she had been kicked repeatedly with enough force to damage her ribs. She had wrapped them, bandaging and stitching a few places, as well, and had stayed in the bathroom, hiding in the shower with the curtain pulled around. Taking painkillers, Katsumi had dozed off and slept most of the night and afternoon, and her father had fortunately been out. She never heard him return, and it was now the early evening of the next day. As much as she would like to, the rogue couldn't remain in the bathroom. He would eventually return, and it would be best to gather supplies and food and be in her bedroom to avoid her father's wrath.
Biting at the inside of her cheek, the rogue pushed herself up from the bathtub, wincing from the movement, and soon she found her way out of the tub, pulling back the curtain. Glancing at the mirror momentarily, Katsumi saw that at least her face was mostly healed; she had been able to see out of her right eye for a few days now and the swelling was pretty much gone. The girl actually looked like herself, but that wasn't really much of a relief; herself was the problem, after all. She had been told that for years; everything about her was all wrong, and she was damnable and shouldn't have been alive in the first place. After so many years of hearing it, Katsumi believed in most of the words, but, even now, couldn't bring herself to buy into the latter. Or perhaps she had, but couldn't simply let herself die. Despite everything and how much pain she had endured and how cruel and dark the world was to her, having all happiness evaporated and snatched away with the death of her mother, Katsumi still struggled to live day by day, and wouldn't, couldn't give up.
Grabbing the medical supplies, she quietly opened the door and brought them over to her bedroom, setting everything on the bed. Before she could close the door and stay, however, Katsumi needed food, some bottled water, enough to last a few days at least, and so she shuffled outside of the room and entered the kitchen. Bending her knees so as to avoid leaning, the rogue opened the fridge and began removing items.
Finished, she closed it with her hip and made her way to the bedroom when she heard the jiggling of keys. Instead of rushing to her room, Katsumi froze like a deer in headlights when the front door swung open, fear overtaking her and numbing her limbs, weighing them down. The Japanese man closed the door, rubbing his head and muttering something, when he turned around and his eyes met Katsumi. They stared directly at one another, and his eyes slowly widened, matching hers in size and surprise.
"A... kiko?" her father muttered, a tremor in his voice as he spoke. Katsumi's brows twitched. Akiko? But that was... her mother's name. There was no doubt that he was looking at Katsumi, so then why...?
He paled, looking as though he had seen a ghost. But he took a step forward, squinting his eyes some, and warmth flickered within his dark eyes. She saw something there then, something she had not seen before, not that she could recall: hope. "Could it be....? You... You look like... like... her. Maybe..."
But her dad seemed to regain himself, in a sense, bringing a hand to his face and shaking his head. He muttered, knitting his brows deeply, "Stop... Stop... No, she's gone, stop. You aren't her. Akiko died. You died. No... not you..."
He was clearly getting things mixed up, rubbing his eyes and forward, fingers digging into his scalp. Katsumi swallowed roughly, shrinking back a little. She could practically hear and see his sanity breaking, crumbling into dust and blowing away. The rogue was nervous, her gut urging her to move and hide, that danger was coming soon. But it was too late. She was in his line of sight and had his attention, and he was cracking right in front of her.
"You... You killed her... Because... Because of you, the bullets... they... Fuck, there was so much blood. Not your blood, her blood... It... It should've been yours, but..." he had started by pointing at Katsumi accusingly, and then his hands gripped at his head again, thinking of Akiko, of his beloved wife, and by the end his eyes went wide, confusion (and insanity) flickering within his dark hues. He looked up at Katsumi inquisitively, tilting his head. "Was it yours?"
Confusion turned to rage, brows knitting deeply, and he clenched his teeth, jaw set hard. He shook his head, looking down, away from Katsumi, and growled, "No.... the face... lies... You... You took her away, and now... now you're tricking me. You... You fucking bitch...! Stop stealing her face! Her... her..."
Fear surged within Katsumi and she clutched at the items in her arms, holding them closely to her chest. She took a step, two, backwards, her body beginning to tremble. Her father really was losing his grip on reality, and terror tightly gripped at her. Katsumi's breathing began to quicken, becoming ragged, and tears formed in the corners of her eyes; she was fucking scared shitless.
With a whimper, she whispered, "F-Father... I... I h-haven't... p-please..."
With a harsh thrust of his arm, the keys went flying and, with a loud crash, hit the coffee table, shattering the glass. Katsumi gasped, wincing at the sound, and inched back, nearing her bedroom door.
And he began to move forward, pointing angrily at Katsumi. His eyes were black and any light or sense in them seemed lost, no longer there, and her father shouted, his voice a roar, "You aren't Akiko! YOU WON'T FOOL ME! I WON'T LET YOU! NOT ANYMORE! YOUR GODDAMN TRICKERY, YOUR... YOUR EVIL, IT FUCKING STOPS NOW! I WON'T LOOK AT YOU! YOU WON'T KILL ME TOO!"
Katsumi paled, her heart skipping a beat. This was it. He had completely lost it. As he moved forward, his knife seemed to pull out in slow motion. The girl took a slow step backwards, eyes widening, and her arms dropped, the objects in her arms falling to the ground with a clatter. This wasn't his fist or foot, he wasn't going to beat her. Father intended to kill her!
Reeling back, the rogue turned and quickly tried to make her way to her bedroom, to get away as swiftly as possible, but his hand had gripped at her hair as her finger tips brushed against the doorknob, yanking with enough force to bring her to the floor with a loud thud. Quickly, her father dropped to get upon her, but Katsumi rolled to the side, narrowly missing being trapped. Getting onto her knees, the girl scrambled away, heading for the living room now. A strong grip was on her foot and Katsumi felt a sharp pain at her Achilles's Heel as the blade sliced straight across. The rogue cried out, eyes snapping open, and she flipped onto her back, kicking with her other foot. It collided against his face, and, free again, Katsumi scooted as back as quickly as she could. The pain was overcome by the terror, her heart beating wildly, thumping against her ears.
"F-F-Father, p-please!" she wailed, the assassin's back hitting the couch.
Tears streamed down her face as she saw her father scramble up, blind rage across his face, and he charged at her. With a sharp cry, she rolled to the side, but his knife bit into her arm, slicing along the side of her bicep, before piercing into the back of the couch. Katsumi fell onto her front and clawed herself forward, a prey scrambling away from its predator, doing everything in its power to avoid the final strike and to narrowly escape. Her words didn't seem to register anything, and, in her panic, she hit the side-table and the lamp fell next to Katsumi. She rushed to get on her back, and just in time as her father aimed a strike. Katsumi brought up her hands defensively, catching the knife before it hit her face. Their hands shook, the end of the blade pointed just inches from her cheek, and Katsumi's father growled, "Death wears many masks... You... I will rip her from you...! She was MINE!"
Soon he yanked the knife away, deeply cutting her palm. He brought the knife down again, and the rogue turned her head to the side, the blade slicing against her ear and the side of her head, plunging into the wooden floor, as she screamed, "D-Dad, NO!!!"
As he was about to pull it up, Katsumi reached for the lamp and brought it hard against her father's head, shattering it. From the impact, the knife escaped her father's hand and slid across the room, out of reach to them both. He was disoriented and fell over, off of Kat, giving the girl the ability to scramble away again, struggling to get onto her feet and limp to the kitchen. Her breathing was heavy, the girl hyperventilating, tears, and blood, and sweat streaming down her flesh.
Any and all training Katsumi had learned was lost at this time, her father instilling such a deep fear, the girl only animalistically trying to survive, as did he in his wrath and insanity, desperately doing all that he could to beat her down and to kill his daughter...
She heard him scream, "YOU FUCKING BITCH!" and Katsumi fell onto the counter, reaching for everything, anything that could help her, objects sliding all across and falling onto the ground. Soon enough, he was upon her again and, hand gripping at a skillet, she turned around and hit his side. But it didn't create the distance or the effect she had hoped for, and a fist slammed against her face, with enough force to cause her to drop the skillet and for her to fall onto her side. A kick to her face brought her fully down onto her back and then she felt him stomp against her ribcage. With a sickening snap, her eyes bulged, the wind knocked out of Katsumi and an excruciating pain shooting through her small form as he broke her fractured ribs. But she couldn't even scream , body tensing, and soon kick after kick colliding into her, hitting her side again until she was corned against the fridge, her back taking the brunt of the damage. Katsumi felt her body breaking and blood spewed from her lips.
Her father lowered himself, turning Katsumi over and bringing her up, his hands wrapping themselves against her throat. He held her against the fridge, his iron grip crushing her throat, fingers digging into her flesh. The rogue convulsed, legs kicking instinctively, and her hands brought themselves to his, clawing hopelessly. She couldn't breathe, and Katsumi desperately attempted to gasp for air, but none could come. Nothing but struggled gargles sounded from her mouth as he choked the life out of Katsumi.
Leaning close to her face, the Japanese man clenched his teeth and bellowed, eyes flashing wildly, frenetically, "YOU TOOK HER AWAY FROM ME AND NOW I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL KILL DEATH! I WILL CRUSH IT!"
This was it. Katsumi was going to die, finally after so many years. Yet she still struggled, convulsed, clung to life as it slipped away from her and her vision wavered, darkened. This... it couldn't be it. After struggling for so long, doing all that she possible could to get by, covered in her sweat and blood and the blood of others, she couldn't just give up now. No... Katsumi had to live! She would do anything to live! As she had been forced to!
Mustering all of her last strength, the rogue lifted her dangling legs, bringing them up to her belly, before lashing them out, hitting her father squarely against his chest. He went stumbling back, and Katsumi crashed to the floor, a loud gasp sounding in the air as her lungs sucked in sweet oxygen. Her tiny fingers clutched at her aching throat, the girl catching her breath, gasping, sputtering, and coughing. Her blurred gaze moved to her father, who was struggling to get up, grabbing at something, and Katsumi again mustered up what strength she had and reached out, grabbing for... for something. She was disoriented and was muttering, words hardly coherent, "F... Fa.... ther... I'm not... p-please... I... I'm sorry... I..."
She didn't hear him move towards her, but from her peripheral vision she saw him. Too late however. Raising his foot up, he stomped full-force onto the side of her leg, and there was another snap and a sharp pain. She would have screamed, but all that was able to come out what a shuddered breath and a sharp intake of breath after. And he was upon her again, knees on either side of her waist. Fingers grasped tightly at her head and he began slamming her head against the floor, repeatedly, over and over, and Katsumi could feel the pressure mounting, her vision fading with each hit. Her skull... it was... her head would be smashed within the minute!
He was screaming, spouting words, but she couldn't hear him through the slamming and the blood pulsing through her ears. Katsumi's hand frantically slapped around and found something. She had no idea what. Were they... scissors? Fingers wrapped around the base and, as a last effort, Katsumi swung her arm upwards, and her hit collided.
Her head was still, grip loosening on her hair, and she pulled with her hand. Something hot splashed against her face, and Katsumi weakly rolled her head, blinking her eyes, trying to clear her vision enough to make out what had happened. The blades of the scissors had been embedded in her father's neck, going through his jaw, as well, and he was bleeding out now as the bloodied scissors clattered onto the floor. His hands reached for his neck, but he fell over, convulsing, crimson spilling through his fingers, occasionally squirting out, and it drenched the front of his shirt. The Japanese man twitched, but he was gone in only a few moments.
But it was hardly a victory. As the adrenaline came down, pain overrode all of Kat's senses and she quietly cried out, voice cracking from her damaged throat. The entirety of her body was in agony, as well as her heart. Everything was breaking within her, and she could do nothing but lay there. Katsumi breathed heavily, looking around, but her vision faded in and out. She attempted to roll onto her side, but didn't even have the strength for that, and so the rogue closed her eyes, tears continuing to slide down her bloodied face, her sobs barely whispers as she soon lost consciousness, a single word passing through her lips...
"W... Why...?
She had woken Sebastian up, who was, of course, concerned, and so the rogue muttered with difficulty that she was fine, quickly making her way out of the bedroom, tripping once or twice in the darkness. Katsumi didn't want to worry him any more than she already had, and would deal with it on her own, at least for now. She wasn't ready to talk yet, especially right after the night terror, when it still gripped with an iron fist at her mind, her lungs, her body, her soul, her everything, pressing down and causing her to crack a little further than before.
Making her way into the bathroom, she closed the door and turned on the light, rushing to the toilet. Bringing up the lid, her body lurched and the rogue felt heat scald her throat, vomit tumbling out, splashing into the water. She did it again, and a tear rolled down her cheek. Eventually, there was nothing left, she wiped her mouth with her sleeved arm, and Katsumi stumbled to the sink, hunching over it, gasping raggedly. Droplets of sweat dripped from her nose, soaking her sweatshirt, and even rolling down her smooth legs. Her dark locks were drenched, wisps clinging to her cheeks, her neck, and sticking to her paled flesh, and Katsumi, glancing up at the mirror and grimacing at the reflection through her gasps, brows furrowing a bit.
She felt unbearably hot, and so the rogue stripped off her sweatshirt, tossing it to the side, just down to her boxers. As her chest rose heavily up and down, the light shows some of her scars, some red, others more fades, and some barely distinguishable, but some of them ached terribly, the pain almost agonizing, as though she was receiving the pain right then. Tears slipped down her cheeks and, hugging her chest, Katsumi staggered to her knees, laying down on her side and staring at the wall with wide eyes, trying to steady her breathing and to push back the hurt, but it still felt fresh. The pain of the night, the terror gripping her just as much as it had back then. No matter how much she tried to tell herself it wasn't real, not anymore, that it was a past event, Katsumi couldn't shake it. Her psyche was too warped just then, barred with no way to escape. All she could do now was face her horror head-on and wait for it to ride on by. And so, ducking her head and curling up into a ball, the girl began to sob, body shaking violently.
"N-No," she breathed, words barely coming out as her throat tightly constricted. Katsumi clenched her eyes shut, fingers digging deeply into her back, breaking skin and causing blood to rise and intermix with the sweat and the fear with which she was stricken...
~*~
Biting down on her lip, Katsumi peeked beneath her bandages and frowned. Her flesh over her ribs were still blue and purple, and there was a sharp pain whenever she twisted her side. If they weren't broken, they were certainly cracked, and the girl restrained herself from sighing. But, removing her fingers from the bandage, they pulled down her grey sweater and her hands fell to her lap. She turned her head and dark hues stared off at the cracked wallpaper, eyebrows furrowing as concern glimmered within her eyes.
Beatings, they were a common thing, but within the last few weeks, perhaps even months, really, their frequency had increased. She wasn't entirely certain for the reason, trying everything in her power to not set her father off, but her efforts were all for naught. When he looked at her, there was a queer look in his eyes, clearly pained, and he would quickly fly into a rage, ranting about the ghosts of pasts returning and her, his daughter, being poison, a reflection of the dead. He started muttering incoherently, pulling at his hair, at his clothes, pacing rooms, and his drinking grew substantially worse; what little she could make out from his ramblings involved her mother. The assassin had been terrified of her father for many years, living in constant fear of another beating or meeting his disapproval yet again, but this was the first time she experienced a perpetual anxiousness about dying. She was petrified one of these days, he would beat her until she stopped breathing.
Katsumi's arms, her legs, her back, and her face held bruises, some older from a couple of weeks ago and others fresh, from just yesterday afternoon, when she had been kicked repeatedly with enough force to damage her ribs. She had wrapped them, bandaging and stitching a few places, as well, and had stayed in the bathroom, hiding in the shower with the curtain pulled around. Taking painkillers, Katsumi had dozed off and slept most of the night and afternoon, and her father had fortunately been out. She never heard him return, and it was now the early evening of the next day. As much as she would like to, the rogue couldn't remain in the bathroom. He would eventually return, and it would be best to gather supplies and food and be in her bedroom to avoid her father's wrath.
Biting at the inside of her cheek, the rogue pushed herself up from the bathtub, wincing from the movement, and soon she found her way out of the tub, pulling back the curtain. Glancing at the mirror momentarily, Katsumi saw that at least her face was mostly healed; she had been able to see out of her right eye for a few days now and the swelling was pretty much gone. The girl actually looked like herself, but that wasn't really much of a relief; herself was the problem, after all. She had been told that for years; everything about her was all wrong, and she was damnable and shouldn't have been alive in the first place. After so many years of hearing it, Katsumi believed in most of the words, but, even now, couldn't bring herself to buy into the latter. Or perhaps she had, but couldn't simply let herself die. Despite everything and how much pain she had endured and how cruel and dark the world was to her, having all happiness evaporated and snatched away with the death of her mother, Katsumi still struggled to live day by day, and wouldn't, couldn't give up.
Grabbing the medical supplies, she quietly opened the door and brought them over to her bedroom, setting everything on the bed. Before she could close the door and stay, however, Katsumi needed food, some bottled water, enough to last a few days at least, and so she shuffled outside of the room and entered the kitchen. Bending her knees so as to avoid leaning, the rogue opened the fridge and began removing items.
Finished, she closed it with her hip and made her way to the bedroom when she heard the jiggling of keys. Instead of rushing to her room, Katsumi froze like a deer in headlights when the front door swung open, fear overtaking her and numbing her limbs, weighing them down. The Japanese man closed the door, rubbing his head and muttering something, when he turned around and his eyes met Katsumi. They stared directly at one another, and his eyes slowly widened, matching hers in size and surprise.
"A... kiko?" her father muttered, a tremor in his voice as he spoke. Katsumi's brows twitched. Akiko? But that was... her mother's name. There was no doubt that he was looking at Katsumi, so then why...?
He paled, looking as though he had seen a ghost. But he took a step forward, squinting his eyes some, and warmth flickered within his dark eyes. She saw something there then, something she had not seen before, not that she could recall: hope. "Could it be....? You... You look like... like... her. Maybe..."
But her dad seemed to regain himself, in a sense, bringing a hand to his face and shaking his head. He muttered, knitting his brows deeply, "Stop... Stop... No, she's gone, stop. You aren't her. Akiko died. You died. No... not you..."
He was clearly getting things mixed up, rubbing his eyes and forward, fingers digging into his scalp. Katsumi swallowed roughly, shrinking back a little. She could practically hear and see his sanity breaking, crumbling into dust and blowing away. The rogue was nervous, her gut urging her to move and hide, that danger was coming soon. But it was too late. She was in his line of sight and had his attention, and he was cracking right in front of her.
"You... You killed her... Because... Because of you, the bullets... they... Fuck, there was so much blood. Not your blood, her blood... It... It should've been yours, but..." he had started by pointing at Katsumi accusingly, and then his hands gripped at his head again, thinking of Akiko, of his beloved wife, and by the end his eyes went wide, confusion (and insanity) flickering within his dark hues. He looked up at Katsumi inquisitively, tilting his head. "Was it yours?"
Confusion turned to rage, brows knitting deeply, and he clenched his teeth, jaw set hard. He shook his head, looking down, away from Katsumi, and growled, "No.... the face... lies... You... You took her away, and now... now you're tricking me. You... You fucking bitch...! Stop stealing her face! Her... her..."
Fear surged within Katsumi and she clutched at the items in her arms, holding them closely to her chest. She took a step, two, backwards, her body beginning to tremble. Her father really was losing his grip on reality, and terror tightly gripped at her. Katsumi's breathing began to quicken, becoming ragged, and tears formed in the corners of her eyes; she was fucking scared shitless.
With a whimper, she whispered, "F-Father... I... I h-haven't... p-please..."
With a harsh thrust of his arm, the keys went flying and, with a loud crash, hit the coffee table, shattering the glass. Katsumi gasped, wincing at the sound, and inched back, nearing her bedroom door.
And he began to move forward, pointing angrily at Katsumi. His eyes were black and any light or sense in them seemed lost, no longer there, and her father shouted, his voice a roar, "You aren't Akiko! YOU WON'T FOOL ME! I WON'T LET YOU! NOT ANYMORE! YOUR GODDAMN TRICKERY, YOUR... YOUR EVIL, IT FUCKING STOPS NOW! I WON'T LOOK AT YOU! YOU WON'T KILL ME TOO!"
Katsumi paled, her heart skipping a beat. This was it. He had completely lost it. As he moved forward, his knife seemed to pull out in slow motion. The girl took a slow step backwards, eyes widening, and her arms dropped, the objects in her arms falling to the ground with a clatter. This wasn't his fist or foot, he wasn't going to beat her. Father intended to kill her!
Reeling back, the rogue turned and quickly tried to make her way to her bedroom, to get away as swiftly as possible, but his hand had gripped at her hair as her finger tips brushed against the doorknob, yanking with enough force to bring her to the floor with a loud thud. Quickly, her father dropped to get upon her, but Katsumi rolled to the side, narrowly missing being trapped. Getting onto her knees, the girl scrambled away, heading for the living room now. A strong grip was on her foot and Katsumi felt a sharp pain at her Achilles's Heel as the blade sliced straight across. The rogue cried out, eyes snapping open, and she flipped onto her back, kicking with her other foot. It collided against his face, and, free again, Katsumi scooted as back as quickly as she could. The pain was overcome by the terror, her heart beating wildly, thumping against her ears.
"F-F-Father, p-please!" she wailed, the assassin's back hitting the couch.
Tears streamed down her face as she saw her father scramble up, blind rage across his face, and he charged at her. With a sharp cry, she rolled to the side, but his knife bit into her arm, slicing along the side of her bicep, before piercing into the back of the couch. Katsumi fell onto her front and clawed herself forward, a prey scrambling away from its predator, doing everything in its power to avoid the final strike and to narrowly escape. Her words didn't seem to register anything, and, in her panic, she hit the side-table and the lamp fell next to Katsumi. She rushed to get on her back, and just in time as her father aimed a strike. Katsumi brought up her hands defensively, catching the knife before it hit her face. Their hands shook, the end of the blade pointed just inches from her cheek, and Katsumi's father growled, "Death wears many masks... You... I will rip her from you...! She was MINE!"
Soon he yanked the knife away, deeply cutting her palm. He brought the knife down again, and the rogue turned her head to the side, the blade slicing against her ear and the side of her head, plunging into the wooden floor, as she screamed, "D-Dad, NO!!!"
As he was about to pull it up, Katsumi reached for the lamp and brought it hard against her father's head, shattering it. From the impact, the knife escaped her father's hand and slid across the room, out of reach to them both. He was disoriented and fell over, off of Kat, giving the girl the ability to scramble away again, struggling to get onto her feet and limp to the kitchen. Her breathing was heavy, the girl hyperventilating, tears, and blood, and sweat streaming down her flesh.
Any and all training Katsumi had learned was lost at this time, her father instilling such a deep fear, the girl only animalistically trying to survive, as did he in his wrath and insanity, desperately doing all that he could to beat her down and to kill his daughter...
She heard him scream, "YOU FUCKING BITCH!" and Katsumi fell onto the counter, reaching for everything, anything that could help her, objects sliding all across and falling onto the ground. Soon enough, he was upon her again and, hand gripping at a skillet, she turned around and hit his side. But it didn't create the distance or the effect she had hoped for, and a fist slammed against her face, with enough force to cause her to drop the skillet and for her to fall onto her side. A kick to her face brought her fully down onto her back and then she felt him stomp against her ribcage. With a sickening snap, her eyes bulged, the wind knocked out of Katsumi and an excruciating pain shooting through her small form as he broke her fractured ribs. But she couldn't even scream , body tensing, and soon kick after kick colliding into her, hitting her side again until she was corned against the fridge, her back taking the brunt of the damage. Katsumi felt her body breaking and blood spewed from her lips.
Her father lowered himself, turning Katsumi over and bringing her up, his hands wrapping themselves against her throat. He held her against the fridge, his iron grip crushing her throat, fingers digging into her flesh. The rogue convulsed, legs kicking instinctively, and her hands brought themselves to his, clawing hopelessly. She couldn't breathe, and Katsumi desperately attempted to gasp for air, but none could come. Nothing but struggled gargles sounded from her mouth as he choked the life out of Katsumi.
Leaning close to her face, the Japanese man clenched his teeth and bellowed, eyes flashing wildly, frenetically, "YOU TOOK HER AWAY FROM ME AND NOW I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL KILL DEATH! I WILL CRUSH IT!"
This was it. Katsumi was going to die, finally after so many years. Yet she still struggled, convulsed, clung to life as it slipped away from her and her vision wavered, darkened. This... it couldn't be it. After struggling for so long, doing all that she possible could to get by, covered in her sweat and blood and the blood of others, she couldn't just give up now. No... Katsumi had to live! She would do anything to live! As she had been forced to!
Mustering all of her last strength, the rogue lifted her dangling legs, bringing them up to her belly, before lashing them out, hitting her father squarely against his chest. He went stumbling back, and Katsumi crashed to the floor, a loud gasp sounding in the air as her lungs sucked in sweet oxygen. Her tiny fingers clutched at her aching throat, the girl catching her breath, gasping, sputtering, and coughing. Her blurred gaze moved to her father, who was struggling to get up, grabbing at something, and Katsumi again mustered up what strength she had and reached out, grabbing for... for something. She was disoriented and was muttering, words hardly coherent, "F... Fa.... ther... I'm not... p-please... I... I'm sorry... I..."
She didn't hear him move towards her, but from her peripheral vision she saw him. Too late however. Raising his foot up, he stomped full-force onto the side of her leg, and there was another snap and a sharp pain. She would have screamed, but all that was able to come out what a shuddered breath and a sharp intake of breath after. And he was upon her again, knees on either side of her waist. Fingers grasped tightly at her head and he began slamming her head against the floor, repeatedly, over and over, and Katsumi could feel the pressure mounting, her vision fading with each hit. Her skull... it was... her head would be smashed within the minute!
He was screaming, spouting words, but she couldn't hear him through the slamming and the blood pulsing through her ears. Katsumi's hand frantically slapped around and found something. She had no idea what. Were they... scissors? Fingers wrapped around the base and, as a last effort, Katsumi swung her arm upwards, and her hit collided.
Her head was still, grip loosening on her hair, and she pulled with her hand. Something hot splashed against her face, and Katsumi weakly rolled her head, blinking her eyes, trying to clear her vision enough to make out what had happened. The blades of the scissors had been embedded in her father's neck, going through his jaw, as well, and he was bleeding out now as the bloodied scissors clattered onto the floor. His hands reached for his neck, but he fell over, convulsing, crimson spilling through his fingers, occasionally squirting out, and it drenched the front of his shirt. The Japanese man twitched, but he was gone in only a few moments.
But it was hardly a victory. As the adrenaline came down, pain overrode all of Kat's senses and she quietly cried out, voice cracking from her damaged throat. The entirety of her body was in agony, as well as her heart. Everything was breaking within her, and she could do nothing but lay there. Katsumi breathed heavily, looking around, but her vision faded in and out. She attempted to roll onto her side, but didn't even have the strength for that, and so the rogue closed her eyes, tears continuing to slide down her bloodied face, her sobs barely whispers as she soon lost consciousness, a single word passing through her lips...
"W... Why...?
