3rd Person

Ja'far gets up from his seat and stretches, wondering where (y/n) is. She should be back from working with Yamuraiha by now. Absentmindedly, he rubs his ankle, remembering the sudden pain he felt in his ankle yesterday while everyone was busy group hugging (y/n). It was sharp, quick, gone just as quickly as it had come. Now, it's like it's never even been there.

The door opens and (y/n) comes in, apologizing for being late. "Oh. It's nothing. I don't really have that much work today, anyway," Ja'far says, hiding the pile of papers behind some books on the desk. She walks past him towards the window and gazes out, gripping the sill.

Then he notices.

"What happened?" He pulls her hands away from the window sill, revealing the white bandages wrapped around them. Turning her face away, neither of them say anything. "I can see the papers you're hiding on your desk," she finally says.

Ja'far sighs. For a moment, he opens his mouth as if he was about to say something before closing it again.

"Fine. You can just arrange some of my things over there. But that's it," he says, gesturing to the neatest shelf he can see.

The faint sound of (y/n) moving around the room in the background, he scribbles away at my desk, paper after paper becoming full of his handwriting. He barely notices as the sun slinks under the horizon, its light slipping away from the room. The sound of pen on paper is only interrupted by the sputter of a lamp's flame as it gets too dark to see.

Gradually, the usual sounds of daytime fade away. Lights disappear from windows. Sindria palace is still. Only the shadows dance on the walls against the yellow light cast by the lamp.

Now is the time.

She draws a knife out of her sleeve. Her fingers close around the handle as she quietly approaches the man in front of her. A blade severs the quiet night.

Deafening silence.

Blood drips to the floor.