Shinobu Kocho never got the chance to choose.
Yaha's right palm had already struck her.
The dark red orb in his palm sank just below her left breast, passing through the fabric of her uniform and straight into her chest. Shinobu Kocho's pupils contracted sharply. Her back arched like a drawn bow, the back of her head slammed against the chair, and her clenched teeth creaked.
Pain.
It exploded outward from her heart. Not the sharp pain of a knife wound, but a scalding snake burrowing through her vessels, peeling away, layer by layer, the wisteria toxins that had slowly seeped into her blood vessel walls over thirteen years.
Shinobu Kocho's right hand shot out and clamped around Yaha's wrist, her nails digging into his skin. "What are you doing?"
Her voice cracked.
Three years. Ever since the night she had decided to die, she had injected concentrated wisteria extract into her veins four times a day, at fixed times and in fixed doses. One thousand and ninety-five days, slowly soaking herself into a poison bomb.
Now this man intended to erase all of it.
Shinobu Kocho struggled desperately to pull back. The chair scraped across the floor with a piercing screech, its four legs hitting the wall behind her. There was nowhere left to retreat. Both hands shoved desperately against Yaha's forearm, but the strength she had built through thirteen years of swordsmanship could not move that arm even a millimeter.
"Don't-"
Yaha's left hand pressed down from above, gripping her shoulder and pinning her back into the chair. The pressure was precise, leaving her bones unharmed while making it impossible for her to move.
"Quiet."
One word slipped from his mouth.
His cursed energy output surged. Shinobu Kocho's body jerked, a muffled groan escaped her throat, and her