Quack

 She had auburn red hair and brown eyes, coupled with a petite frame that allowed her to move easily through the alleyway she found herself in. 

 Her name was Sumire and she was a thief by profession, and now the dishonest nature of her job had finally caught with her. Fresh blood still trickled down the side of her neck as she ran.

 Yami no ken, those were the words she read on the blade of the mysterious black katana. She had not been mistaken, it was black. And the darkness behind that mask. The mask.

 Sumire paled. The though of Chisuke's mask sent shivers down her spine. Was divine judgement finally upon her?

 She had lived a sinful life, but Sumire was certain she hadn't done anything to warrant an execution. At most she deserved a very painful beating, emphasis on the painful. 

 However life wasn't as people were led to imagine. Sumire had stolen from an oni, and now he would stop at nothing until his blade reaped her life. At least that was what she thought.

 In reality Chisuke had been lost in thought when the girl had stolen from him, and as such did not even notice he had been robbed. The girl was truly a master of her craft.

 She moved through the maze of buildings that were woven by poor city planning with practiced ease until she came upon a small two storey building. In front of it was a sign that said ramen.

 Her steps trailed off into the building where she was met by a crowd of people sitting in front of tables with piping hot bowls in front of them. The smell of freshly cooked noodles filled the air, Sumire looked around and only after deeming the place as safe did she allow herself to relax. 

 She could still remember the feeling of cold steel pressed against her flesh, and it was far from pleasant.

 Sumire scoured the area intently. She was looking for something, or someone.

He should be here, damnit.

 Her gaze moved around the restaurant scanning through the myriad of people. Some were frankly inconvenienced by it and gaze her rude stares, but Sumire paid them no mind. Just as she was about to give up her search, a voice called out to her.

"Sumi dear, over here."

 It was somewhere out of sight. A table in the corner where a dark cloud hung over with a young man in glasses sitting alone. The lonely man sat with a bowl of ramen in front of him just like the rest of the customers, his kimono reflected his learned nature. He was Sumire's target.

 She made her way to the man and took her seat on the chair beside him. The atmosphere between the two was tense for a while with the man simply smiling, but then he lifted his hand and patted Sumire on the head, ruffling her hair.

"How is Akane doing lately?"

 His voice trailed off weakly like an old man. 

"Not any better than usual."

 Sumire's voice was even more solemn, when she conversed to the young man she seemed to do so with a tiny respect.

"I see. That's good."

"How the hell is that good?"

 Sumire brought out the purse of coins from her robes and tossed them onto the table.

"It would be good if she wasn't sick at all."

 The girl grit her teeth in frustration but quickly reverted back to her usual demeanor. 

"This should cover payment for a while. You got the goods?"

"Of course."

 The young man produced a small gourd and placed it on the table close to Sumire. His signature weak smile became even more pronounced to the extent where it could even be called awkward.

"The hell are you smiling about?"

"I have a good feeling about this one. I made use of western techniques in its preparation so it's appearance might differ from the past ones, but pay it no mind."

"Whatever you say you quack."

"My name is Genki."

 Sumire took a look at the dainty young man and sighed inwardly.

What a whimp.

Her impression of the doctor wasn't one too favourable, but still. Sumire found it hard to simply hate the guy. After all, she would be lost without him.

"I'll be taking my leave now."

 The fragile looking man abandoned his bowl of noodles and excused himself from his chair. Sumire eyed his unfinished bowl with vested interest and in that moment someone entered the restaurant.

An unearthly figure stormed into the restaurant without a sense of tact for the moment Sumire was having. His clothes were black and he carried a pair of swords on his waist. His hair was as white as snow, and his face was veiled by a mask.

 A mask.

 The mask turned in Sumire's direction and a calm voice spoke.

"I finally found you."

 The sound of the voice made the blood running in Sumire's veins turn cold. She lifted her head to see the demonic swordsman, and moments later the restaurant exploded into a sea of movement.

 Chisuke lunged forth with inhuman speed, closing the gap between him and Sumire in a second. His katana was drawn revealing its obsidian blade.

 It all happened in an instant, his blade moved too fast for the human eye to perceive and in that instant Sumire watched as the doctor's hand fell.

 The sound of a dull thud followed as the hand hit the ground, and after a second or two, the mob finally became aware of it.

 Screaming was heard as people fled the restaurant in droves. The smell of ramen hung in the air, half finished bowls littering the tables with some on the floor.

 Sumire sat on her chair frozen still, the girl's momentarily went blank and was only brought back by the screaming of her doctor friend.

"I was hoping to take your head in one strike, but you went ahead and blocked. What a pain."

 Chisuke turned to the Sumire who sat still on her chair. He found it odd how the girl managed to remain in one place after the violent scene that had just played out. He was honestly impressed, but he couldn't have her lingering. She was bound to become a bother when he started fighting.

"Leave."

 No single word had ever brought Sumire so much elation before. The girl had no idea why Chisuke turned his blade the doctor instead of her, but she wasn't about to argue.

 Sumire quickly took the gourd that had been given to her and scampered away from the table and put of the restaurant.