Hiyori Kozuki's Surrender (Part 2)

The next morning.

Sunlight streamed through the exquisite lattice windows once more, carving the tatami into a checkerboard of light and shadow.

The patches of light were sharper than yesterday, with dust motes dancing visibly within them.

When Dawn awoke, the space beside him was already empty.

Komurasaki sat with her back to him before the dressing table on the other side of the room. She wore only the wrinkled plain white undergarment draped loosely over her body, her long hair hanging down and concealing most of her face and back.

She sat ramrod straight and motionless, like a porcelain doll stripped of its soul. Only the uncontrollable tremble of her slender shoulders betrayed the collapse and violent turmoil within.

Dawn sat up, the fabric rustling softly.

The sound made Komurasaki's back stiffen abruptly. Every faint tremor stopped at once, as though she had frozen over.

The silence lasted for more than ten seconds. Komurasaki slowly raised her hand toward the smooth surface of the dressing table, her fingertips reaching a small knife used for trimming lamp wicks.

She gripped the handle, spun around sharply, and thrust the knife in her clenched hand straight at Dawn's heart, carrying all her hatred, humiliation, and desire for destruction!

Just as the blade was about to touch his clothes, Dawn raised his right hand.

His index finger and thumb precisely pinched the gleaming tip of the blade.

"Crack."

The soft sound rang especially clearly through the deathly silent room.

The blade, capable of cutting through flesh, snapped between his two fingers like the most fragile cracker. The front half of the knife clattered onto the tatami, rolled a few times, and came to a stop.

Carried forward by the force of her charge, Komurasaki pitched out of control. Dawn caught her shoulder with