Man (breathing fast): "They took everything. They killed families. Emily was… she was just a child."
His voice broke, then hardened. "We won't die quietly."
Ryuki's jaw set. Orimo's fingers tightened around the strap of his jacket.
Their leader rose from the corner of the room, lantern light cutting his face into shadow and flame.
Leader: "Mr. Orimo, Ms. Ryuki… I was there when you fought in the palace. I fired that smoke bullet and helped you run."
Orimo: "Oh — thanks. I thought something was weird."
The leader bowed his head, voice small.
Leader (putting his head down): "Please. I beg you. Help us."
Ryuki moved as if to speak; Orimo cut in like a snapped wire.
Orimo: "Raise your head. We will crush every single one of them — those morons. I will eradicate them."
The leader's eyes flooded with tears, relief and fear tangled together.
Leader: "I'm indebted to you."
Orimo: "Nah. I'm doing this because I want to."
Ryuki looked at the crude map pinned on the table, then back at the faces around her. Her voice was low, controlled, full of the calm that had cleaved through slaughter before.
Ryuki: "I have a plan."
{Scene shifts to the palace}
Outside, under the same rain, palace guards leaned against the stone wall. One pulled a cigarette from his pocket, fingers shaking from the cold. They laughed — cheap noise in the dark — passing the flame between them, unaware of the hush that was gathering like a storm.
They smoked and joked, boots splashing in puddles, not knowing that in the smoke-glow of a lantern across town, people were carving a wound into their routine.
The night held its breath.