A cloud of dislodged ash rose up from the roof of the Arkspire as Junko and Motonubu repeatedly engaged, separated, and re-engaged. Junko leapt back, putting distance between herself and the many pillars dotting the rooftop. Every exchange with the man ended in Junko’s favor, but it was quickly become apparent that meant nothing as long as he held the hourglass. She eventually retreated all the way back to the edge of the rooftop. By now the rules of Motonubu’s Wispform jutsu came into clearer focus. He could change his outer appearance (and the appearance of small objects too, apparently), but he couldn’t simply become invisible. Every time her swords sliced through a decoy or a puff of black smoke, it became more obvious exactly how long it took for his technique to take effect. The black smoke that flowed off his skin took several seconds to gain color and texture, and as long as she kept up the pressure, Motonubu didn’t have time to get too wily with his jutsu. The faster she attacked, the fewer places he could hide. Truthfully, however, that ability was the least threatening thing about Motonubu.

As long as Motonubu held that hourglass it didn’t matter how many times Junko managed to land a hit. Nothing short of an instant kill or disarm would stop Motonubu. He protected the arm holding his artifact every time Junko moved in for an assault, and she simply couldn’t stop him from blinking away as soon as the situation turned sour. He could always just reset and apparently could do so with a remarkable amount of precision, always appearing far away from her each time he blinked away. Junko held both her blades out in different directions as she tried to ignore the throbbing pain at her side. On top of all that, Motonubu would never get tired. Every time they fought he was in top form, while she only grew more fatigued and injured. She was better than him at that moment in time. Time was slipping away from her faster than it was for Motonubu, however.

The pillars dotting the Arkspire’s rooftop offered just the right thickness and height to obscure a person, but not much more than that. Slowly, she began shuffling her feet sideways, looking for any disturbance in the ash underfoot for evidence of Motonubu after his latest jump. It didn’t take long to find the man standing, again with a carefree stance, just behind the main pillar. Junko’s heart once again began to pound.

This time he seemed to be holding his small notebook, which he closed as soon as Junko drew near. He looked completely unphased, perhaps unsurprising given that each time he used the hourglass, he became an older version of himself without memory of how the fight was going. “Interesting. I misread you.” he spoke as one might to a child, “I thought you would have gone for the child first, but it seems you chose to attack me instead. Do you simply not care for the boy, or are you able to keep cool even in a situation like this?”

Again the distance between them was small enough Junko could easily bridge it in a few quick steps. Another assault wouldn’t be instant, though, giving the man time again to simply whisk himself back to some new location. Could she just run him out of places to disappear too? No, too risky. He only needed to end up in a good location one time to get a good attack in. Knowing Motonubu, the man was counting on exploiting Junko’s aggression and stamina. She needed to come up with something else.

Bait. She needed to bait him in somehow. But how?

Motonubu’s face turned from Junko to look at something near the edge of the rooftop. The spinning stonework was rapidly beginning to clear off the ash with the wind it generated, and something was just becoming visible from beneath it. In any other context that moment of diverted attention would have prompted Junko to attack, but now she simply observed. “Or,” Motonubu spoke again with a tone of disgust. “Did you already assume the boy was dead before arriving? You might be even more cynical than me.”

As the ash continued to thin the object of Motonubu’s attention came into clearer focus. It was the curled up shape of a person. Of a child. The shredded Annitou uniform he wore all but confirmed it.

Junko moved again, but not towards her foe. Instead she kept her weapons at the ready and shuffled sideways, edging her way towards what appeared to be the fallen body of the boy. It was almost certainly a trap- it might not even be Gekko, but instead some twisted use of Motonubu’s trickery jutsu. A direct head on approach wouldn’t work regardless. If Motonubu didn’t have an obvious opening, Junko would make one!

Now close enough to make out the details in the odd lighting Junko clearly saw the remaining ash surrounding the boy was darker and damper than it should have been. She could feel a liquid under her feet, thicker than water and almost certainly some kind of body fluid. The body was not breathing.

“Bring back any memories?” Motonubu’s grating voice made Junko’s eyes snap back to his smug presence. “After all that, I expected more of a reaction. I suppose that was another mistake of mine. I assumed the Iron Tower still held some bit of humanity in her.” He stood up, as if about to move. “Or do you feel nothing, because Cadet Gekko does not resemble your sisters at all? What a waste, then. If only I had a picture of some sort, I could have disguised his body as one of those sisters you failed to protect-”

One of Junko’s legs burst outwards, kicking up a flurry of the remaining ash as she did so. Her foot connected solidly on the small body of Gekko, and Junko’s monstrous strength easily hurled the limp body up and out some distance, though very deliberately not so far as to fall off the edge of the tower. The sudden and brutal movement even seemed to catch Motonubu off guard, as his posture changed little as he watched the bloodied Gekko tumble through the air like a discarded piece of trash.

As soon as Gekko’s body moved from its position a familiar sounding hiss ignited into the air. Junko acted immediately as though expecting exactly this development, swinging Sahori down low in the depression in the ash. The dull end of her blade caught something and flung it upwards along with a small cloud of debris, hurling the booby trapped object straight in Motonubu’s direction. As it tumbled through the air Junko caught sight of a small red spark trailing from a long narrow cylinder. Good thing Motonubu showed it to her before on the surface; her eyes easily identified the distinct shape of the Annitou gunpowder charge with its burning wick, even as it flew through the air.

A very, very short wick as it turned out. The explosive detonated far before it had time to reach Motonubu and the blast sent a massive plume of loose ash out in all directions. It obscured Motonubu and Junko responded as was natural, shifting her position in anticipation of the man bursting through the newly created cover in an attempt to once again assassinate her.

Predictable. Kiki-ichimoniji Junko might be a legend in her own right, but it seemed she only sharpened her swords on the dullest of targets. An Agent didn’t follow those set patterns of combat, those routine, expected avenues of advance. Especially not an Agent as backhanded as Sawamatsu no Motonubu! The air barely swirled and parted as he silently blinked into existence just behind Junko. Unlike his more relaxed positions now Motonubu held a dagger in one hand, and the hourglass in the other. Junko was facing entirely away from him and even if she wanted to turn around, it would take far too long to do so. He spent plenty of time studying the Kiku-ichimonji style- this woman would have no more surprises for him. It was the perfect setup. Another quick strike would weaken the woman even further, and she was already deteriorating the longer the fight drew out. At least, that’s what he could tell from looking at her. The constant hourglass usage left him without a memory of what had transpired so far. Even so, Motonubu knew just by looking at the woman that he was winning!

However sometimes, predictability cut both ways. Cornering her next to the boy’s body had been Motonubu’s plan, but such he didn’t anticipate just how transparent his trap had been. As Motonubu moved to strike something tore through his insides, stopping his thrust immediately as the pain ricocheted up his ribcage. Junko was still facing away from him! Where could that pain possibly be coming from? His instinct was to once again flip the hourglass, to reset back to another time, but part of his body was stiff as if something was stuck inside it. His cloak billowed out slightly in the whirling breeze generated by the tower’s spinning components and Motonubu saw something incredibly unpleasant bulging out from his gut.

The hilt of Hikiboshi stuck out of him, as if sheathed inside his chest cavity. Junko looked as though she was in her family’s battle stance, but in fact she was only wielding a single weapon. Her short sword she must have left stabbed into the ground behind her. Preposterous, of course, to disarm oneself like that! Yet here Motonubu stood, frozen, with a steel razor embedded deep inside him. Teleporting through time didn’t come without some risks.

Junko’s response came before Motonubu could once again spin the hourglass; his arm couldn’t move anyway, so long as that sword lay embedded in his bones. Without needing to turn around she pivoted on her heel and slammed one foot backwards into Motonubu’s chest. The kick left a bloody footprint on his cloak as he fell backwards towards the edge of the tower. His insides likewise didn’t fare too well as the implanted weapon shifted and forced its way through flesh and blood. It was unlike any pain he had experienced in his lifetime. Added onto the burning shame of falling into the Junko’s own trap- what an utterly unpleasant woman!

Motonubu’s legs couldn’t stay rigid and he crumpled easily under Junko’s strength. His limp body careened towards the edge of the rooftop as the kick propelled him backwards. Unlike Gekko, however, it was clear Junko fully intended to send Motonubu off the edge. The rapidly spinning parts of the Arkspire would easily smash into him, or even if they didn’t, the fall from this height would without a doubt be fatal. Motonubu kept a trick in store for every occasion but in this situation there was absolutely no escape. He couldn’t move the hourglass. He couldn’t stop his fall. There were no more tricks to pull.

At the cusp of his demise, a moment before tumbling over into the darkness below, an angel intervened. It was a painful intervention to be sure- Motonubu felt his entire body shake and his insides churn as the force kept him from tipping over the edge at the last possible second. All his momentum stopped, while Hikiboshi tore up his insides even more- Junko stopped his demise by grabbing onto her weapon at the last second! The damage it was causing inside him was almost certainly just as fatal as the fall would have been. Most importantly, however, this was a much slower kind of fatal.

Junko’s outstretched arm held onto her weapon with a mighty grip. Motonubu hung from it as though he was on a skewer and was in no condition to even make a counter attack. She saved him because he still held the hourglass and her weapon, of course. It shouldn’t have been unexpected. She seemed to have a hard time letting go.

Motonubu already dropped the hourglass and still barely held onto his dagger, but was obviously in no condition to do anything dangerous to Junko as he dangled off her weapon. She stared down at him with a pair of cold, detached eyes. Funny. Motonubu expected her to look more satisfied. Daisuke would have definitely taken the time to gloat.

Without another utterance Junko lifted her foot again and slammed it into Motonubu. Hikiboshi slid out in painful chunks, pulling every embedded bit of tissue out with it. In the end the woman’s regret did her in. As he felt the steel tear up his body it seemed there still was one weakness left to exploit.

The hand holding the dagger clumsily swung around and landed atop the bloodied blade of Hikiboshi. The movement didn’t give Junko any pause, as if she didn’t expect enough out of Motonubu to even try to mount a final attack. So professional. So mistaken.

Dislodging Motonubu only took one more kick, as he clutched the sword as though it were a life preserver. Fully intent to retrieve her weapon, Junko pulled it back with a mighty tug. Motonubu’s fingers tried in vain to hold onto the steel as it slipped away. He barely had time to hold onto his own weapon, which likewise began to grind against Hikiboshi and started to let out black smoke-

Smoke! Even with blood pouring out of him Motonubu summoned enough energy to smile. Shifting what little weight he had left to twist his arm, the smoking dagger began to spin. The added force from Junko’s grinding blade gave him just enough energy that he couldn’t muster up himself. Calling it a dagger at this point wasn’t accurate- his Wispform was quickly being torn apart, the smoky disguise revealed. It wasn’t his dagger at all he had been holding. It was the hourglass, full of its strange shifting liquid. Now it tumbled around, its inscrutable mechanism turning and twisting just enough to fulfill its purpose.

An instant later Motonubu was gone. As was the hourglass. A cold void surrounded Junko’s injured palm. It was empty.

Hikiboshi was gone as well. The man had grabbed onto it at the last second, taking it back with him. A new rage boiled up within Junko and her head snapped backwards. Her feet were already moving. Where had he gone? Where had the little rat scampered off too this time?! This spike in anger actually prompted a response, and she furiously kicked the ‘hourglass’ Motonubu had appeared to drop earlier. Of course it burst into black smoke and revealed itself to be his dagger all along as it flew off the side of the Arkspire. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about being stabbed now.

A horrible thought jumped across her mind. If Motonubu jumped backwards, he would naturally carry all his belongings with him. But Hikiboshi wasn’t his- it wasn’t going to appear beside him on the rooftop, wherever that awful man might now be hiding. No, instead, it would appear wherever Junko had been- and for most of the last hour, Junko hadn’t been anywhere near this rooftop. Instead she had been climbing it. Hikiboshi might have just got sent off the tower, just like the dagger!

Now her feet moved with a new urgency. Junko again began to circle the area, just as the Arkspire began to renew its distressing groaning and shaking. If she retraced her footsteps she would find her weapon, surely. And if not...no, no point in thinking about it. Not much ash remained on the ground now as the tower had blown most of it off, so she couldn’t see her footprints. Even so Junko covered the entire circumference of the rooftop and found nothing. Not even, it appeared, any signs of Motonubu. The stab wound she was fighting through was only getting worse the longer she left it untreated as well. Was he just trying to wait her out?

From out of sight, grumbling out over the mechanical sounds of the awakening tower, came that infuriating voice. “Looks like you are missing something, eh?”

Searching for Motonubu was pointless, as usual. The man could only be found when he wanted to be. The voice came from behind her, because of course it did- Motonubu wouldn’t have put himself in any position he couldn’t recover from. Junko snapped around and saw his short form once again standing too far away to lunge at. This time, though, what she saw almost made her leap at him despite the obvious mistake that would be.

This Motonubu looked in perfect health, of course. But now he held something other than an hourglass or dagger in his hand. His dagger had been left behind, after all, and hadn’t been taken back with him. Instead it seemed the Garion agent chose a different weapon this time. Between his fingers and held at an odd angle was the recognizable hilt and blade of Hikiboshi.

Not only that but Motonubu stood very close to the edge of the tower. His arm holding the sword was outstretched, not in any combat stance familiar to Junko. Was he really trying to challenge her to a swordfight? Or...

She got her answer a moment later. Motonubu twisted the weapon and pointed it dangerously close to the edge of the Arkspire, threatening to touch its tip to the spinning sections just around the lip of the rooftop. For a while now she ignored those rapidly rotating sections of the tower, but at this point that was no longer an option. The twisted columns that had risen out from the sides of the structure extended far overhead and joined together to form a pyramid of sorts, like a giant spinning tripod. Their function was impossible to discern, but they moved at such a rapid pace that touching one of them would have been like standing in front of a charging bull. The City of King's steel that made up her weapons wouldn't break, but if Motonubu let her weapon smash into one, no doubt it would be flung somewhere far into the ocean below their feet and never be found again. Junko heard her heart begin to loudly pound.

“How, I wonder, did you let this happen?” Motonubu’s question carried a clear tone of superiority, as though he didn’t actually care to know the answer. “An unfortunate price one pays for using the hourglass. I won’t ever know how I managed to wrest this weapon from you.” He began to wiggle it, his small fingers liable to slip and drop the precious sword if he was so inclined. “This one is Hikiboshi, is it not? The younger- well, smaller, of the two Kiku-ichimonji blades. I was expecting it to be more impressive up close.”

Inhale. Exhale. Junko focused on keeping her breathing steady. Both her hands now rested on the hilt of Sahori. It was a different, rarely used form of her (former) family’s fighting style. Without her other blade her hands just felt...wrong. “A sword is just a tool.” Junko’s spoke those words with a very thin veneer of believability. She might be able to keep herself from reacting in anger, but tempering the fury in her voice wasn’t something she was wasting effort on. “I could beat you to death with my bare hands if I wanted. You’re just delaying the inevitable.”

Unbothered by her proclamation Motonubu swung his other hand free from under his cloak, the same one that always seemed to be holding the hourglass. “Yes. Precisely. Have I not told you already?” Motonubu’s hunched shoulders rose up in a dismissive shrug. “I am merely wasting time until the Arkspire does...whatever it is that it does. This is of no consequence to me.”

“If that was true,” Junko scooted her feet imperceptibly, but not towards Motonubu. “You wouldn’t waste your time trying to scare me by threatening my personal property. You’d be hiding in that cowardly jutsu of yours.”

“Cowardly!” Again unmoved Motonoubu gave his wheezing chuckle. “That hurts, ‘Iron Tower’ Junko! Perhaps if your sisters had been more cowardly, they-”

“I’m already pissed off, no point in taunting me even more.”

“-well, no point living in the past, is there.” Again Motonubu began dangling the weapon. Junko continued her slow creep. So far in his gloating Motonubu hadn’t seemed to notice. “That’s why you cannot win, you see. You can call me a coward but you are the one who was so desperate for absolution you sold yourself for a chance to undo your mistakes.” Motonubu shook the hourglass and Junko froze, worried he might jump away again. “And now you’re going to lose little Hikiboshi again because of that short-sightedness! What a shame that even someone with your pedigree can keep making the same mistakes over and over.”

Inhale. The low light conditions on the rooftop made it hard to track distances, and Junko couldn’t tell exactly how far Hikiboshi was from touching the whirling sections of the tower. Any movement would be risky. Exhale. “You’ve already told me how to stop the machine, Motonubu.”

Rather than respond directly to the man’s obvious taunts, Junko’s sudden shift in topic seemed to catch Motonubu off guard. For once he didn’t have a response, but his expression didn’t seem to buying it. So Junko laid it on even thicker. “You stayed up here to stop me, rather than running off and hiding like you usually do. The only reason you stuck around to threaten me,” Junko shifted her stance to bring Sahori closer to the tower, mirroring Motonubu’s posture. “Is because I could ruin your scheme.”

Motonubu’s voice dripped with dull disbelief. “As if I would ever have told you anything.”

“You thought you had me beat.” Junko held her breath, consciously controlling every possible reaction she might give that would reveal the scam. “And you decided to rub it my face. That’s what you get for talking instead of fighting.” Apart from the whirring and grinding of the mechanisms below their feet no other words came out of either of them. It seemed like a stalemate, with Motonubu’s expression hardening and Junko’s unwavering stance remaining frozen for second after excruciating second. Slowly she used her rather naked feeling empty hand to reach to her belt, where she pulled out her gourd. “I never properly thanked you for the booze.” She pulled the cork off the top of the container with her teeth, and spat it onto the floor. “Or maybe I did. Must be awful, constantly forgetting stuff, eh?”

“Hm. Maybe I did.” Motonubu waggled Junko’s sword carelessly, as if he might drop if off the edge at any moment. “I don’t really care, anyway. I can waste all the time left in the world. And with the hourglass, I’ll be able to escape the same fate you’ll suffer. It’s all hopeless for you no matter what.”

“Even with your freakish strength, there is no way you can-” Motonubu’s disdainful voice wouldn’t get to finish as Junko snapped her hand sideways. The gourd smashed into one of the rotating pillars on the periphery of the tower and expelled its contents violently in all directions. Rather than liquor, though, instead a gray obscuring cloud burst out and completely swept around Junko. A smokescreen! Somehow the woman filled her gourd with ash, as if she planned for this to happen. How juvenile.

A futile gesture regardless. The whirling air quickly began to spin the smoke around and within seconds it would disperse. Motonubu didn’t even bother moving. The woman would charge forward as if such a momentary diversion would work on a professional like himself. The strategy hadn’t changed at all- when she drew close, he could strike her and use the hourglass to retreat. It didn’t matter how strong her fast the Iron Tower could be. She was up against the inevitably of time itself!

Or so it seemed. Motonubu only caught the briefest glimpse as the smoke began to clear. Junko hadn’t advanced at all. In fact, she had completely disappeared! His eyes narrowed as in that single moment he contemplated tilting the hourglass yet again. But, no, that would be unsafe. He might teleport somewhere she was standing. Once he caught sight of her again he could accurately leap back in time yet again and-

A heavy heel slammed straight into his vertebra. The force shook him to such a degree that his grip on HIkoboshi loosened entirely, and he dropped the sword to the earth. Instinctively he attempted to rotate the hourglass but found that it wouldn’t move- no, that it couldn’t move. That entire side of his body wasn’t even attached anymore. Somehow Junko, in the blink of an eye, disarmed him.

Sahori cut cleanly through his cloak and separated Motonbu’s shoulder from the rest of his torso, even while he was still being flung forward by Junko’s kick. He staggered as he still couldn’t fully process what just occurred. Behind him? How? The woman possessed no jutsu! Even with her speed, she couldn’t simply...teleport! As the looming Junko rapidly lunged after him he caught sight of the clue that exposed the whole plan.

A wispy, dusty trail stared him right in the face. It wrapped around back from where Junko disappeared after throwing the gourd. The trail followed a circular path around the tower’s spinning spires, no doubt stretching all the way back to where he had been standing a moment ago. It seemed absurd, that she could have traveled that entire distance in an instant- but, no. The rotating sections of the tower moved far quicker than even Junko could manage. Under the cover of that ash-filled gourd she grabbed onto the rapidly spinning chunks of stone and simply rode them the entire way around.

Devilish was the only word Motonubu could think of. Junko would have made a good Garion Agent, in different circumstances. It was the last thought he could spare, before Sahori completely separated his head from the rest of his body.