Failed suicide

The warm summer air above ground level was cleaner than most. Here a rocky cliff stood with a river running past it, glowing with the reflection of the evening sun on its surface turning the sight ethereal. The current which was slow could hardly be called weak as it whispered softly as ripples ran across the waters surface. It was like a vermillion river of liquid fire was slowly making its way downstream carried by the unresistable pull of nature.

The mountainside crunched as stones were crushed under a pair of bare feet. There was a hesitant step forward by a young woman adorned in a warm coloured yukata. Her sandals were right behind her as she stood at the edge of the cliff. Each strand of her long flowing hair was resembled beautiful copper and her skin glowed with a fair sheen. A wistful look stood in the lady's eyes as she caressed her slightly bulging stomach.

A troubled smile spread across her face she gazed at the water beneath her. To her it seemed like such a beautiful thing, much unlike herself. In her eyes the water seemed pure as if undefiled by the touch of mortals, while she was not. Of course she wasn't. After all, she was pregnant.

The slight bump that could at the base of her belly contained a child. Perhaps it was be a boy, or maybe a girl. In the end it didn't really matter. The lady had no intention of delivering her child, she wasn't even sure if she was fit to be a mother. Her image was far from that of one.

As she stared at the reflection of the of the sun in the waters she had a vague recollection. It was a distant memory, one she wished to forget.

In that memory all she could see was darkness. There was a strong feeling of disgust surging within her as she felt the touch of calloused hands run across her skin.

The lady's mind resurfaced back to reality, her previously troubled smile had turned into one of simple distaste. Her heart beating heavily from the rush of adrenaline made her much more calm than a she was supposed to be when standing at the edge of a cliff where a single mistake meant death.

What was there to fear? She had no reason to fear. Making her way to the cliff had no been a mistake, neither was it easy. The lady had made a calculating attempt to die that left her no option of survival.

She was going to die, that was certain if she jumped. She was going to die. The thought of death unnerved the girl if nothing else. She wondered, was she prepared to die?

Some thought of death of something as fanciful as a peaceful release, but the lady wasn't one of such fools. She properly understood the consequence of what jumping entailed. A slow and painful demise.

The lady frowned, she made no effort to wear a mask of confidence. She looked down once more at the sunlit river, it's ripples were exquisitely beautiful.

She sighed.

This is for the best.

At some point one of her feet was already off the cliff with nothing underneath it. The lady merely held her balance with one leg like some sort of eccentric daredevil. All that remained was to let go of her balance and she would fall.

"Dont do it!"

A loud voice boomed from beyond the river where a covering of trees stood, but that wasn't important. What was though, was the fact the the voice had startled the lady make her lose her balance. She was already feeling the wind brush bast her face as she plummeted down to her death.

In place of fear, she felt a strange feeling of anger as she fell. She had wanted a bit more time to mentally prepare for her end. That, and also, the manner in which it happened. The lady was fairly knowledgeable about such things and had wanted to go down with a graceful dive headfirst, but had lost her balance and was not falling in the opposite way. The force of the wind threatened to lift up her yukata as she fell with her legs first, but the fabric was too big.

The lady closed her eyes in bitter anticipation. It seemed her death was not going to be the most swift and painless.

Someone had called out to her in an attempt to save her, but only ended up making matters worse. Who could have been responsible for such a thing? It was, of course, a masked swordsman.

On the opposite side of the river was lush forest, and at present a thicket at the edge trembled and slowly came undone with a man rushing out carrying someone on his back. It all happened before the lady had fell though, in fact one could say fell because it did. Not that she wasn't planning to die either way.

Chisuke had tried to stop the lady from jumping by calling out to her, but by the time he caught sight of her she had already lost her balance, slowly leaning forward.

There was little time of Chisuke to think of a solution, and there were hardly any in sight. The swordsman unceremoniously let go of Sumire letting her fall to the ground. In the next seconds Chisuke reached into his robe and brought out Sumire's knife.

He had deemed it necessary to unarm the girl later on and now it had worked to his benefit. Behind the mask, Chisuke's eyes focused deeply on the falling lady while his veins swelled as he tightened his grip on the knife. In the next moments a hiss could be heard as Chisuke swung his hand sending Sumire's blade flying straight at the lady. The kitchen knife barreled through air in the blink of an eye and crossed the river making its way to the falling lady. It looked like the lady was most likely going to die from a knife wound than anything else, but in a split second it but into the collar if the lady's loose yukata then plunged into the wall of the cliff.