He follows at her heel with the happy trot of a little dog. This rusted city outskirt does not frighten him. Places do not frighten him, nor does he have the capacity to be frightened by people. Harsh words might cow him, or esoteric matters might send a shiver down his spine, but people do not bother him. What terrors lurk in this place only threaten themselves by intruding into his life. Should they threaten her, he will gladly rip out their throats, spit it at her feet, and carry on like nothing ever happened.[break][break]
Or so it would have been a few months past. He's started to notice the taste of blood. He doesn't like the way it feels in his throat. It introduces questions.[break][break]
Questions tossed aside by the sound of that voice. He doesn't know whether they're a dealer, or someone with an agenda, or something else. All he knows is his mind senses danger.[break][break]
One of his Kartanas flies free from its beast ball. It floats near the lip of the alley, looking for the source of the voice. Both beast and dog question what masks it from their sight.[break][break]
And then a question is posed.[break][break]
"Red." He says without skipping a beat. It is, after all, his favorite color.

"Heh, great minds think ali-"[break][break]

"TORB!"[BREAK]
"TORB!"[BREAK]
"TORB![break]
"VOLTORB!"[break][break]

A dozen red and white balls fall from a golden ring. Like any creature removed from its natural habitat and forced through space/time, they are decidedly displeased with this situation. Several surge with electric power, the preamble to destruction.[break][break]
"Shit!" A dog howls, drawing his sword while another flies forward. His Kartana cuts across the air, slicing them in half with a leaf blade. Separated into two clean halves, the ball's electric power fizzles. Hitoshi's honedge strikes another with a sacred sword, piercing it through the eye.[break][break]
Yet he is but one creature and they are legion. More power surges. An explosion is imminent.

"Nice." Even in the midst of this surreal predicament, he finds time to praise her. "That was a really good idea. Sorry you had to get your hands dirty." Maybe from someone else, that might be biting. It might be steeped in sarcasm or derision. They're open, honest words. It's a failure on his part that she had to step out onto the battlefield.[break][break]
He doesn't think that play will work twice in a row. Each of the Voltorbs howls in anger at the deaths of their brothers. They died for nothing. The lion's share of them begin to glow.[break][break]
There's only one technique he has that can save them here.[break][break]
The Hasegawa Muramasa has sat unused for generations. It is a heavy burden to wield this weapon in service to the lords and ladies of the house. To wield it is to be cursed, to burn yourself upon the alter of another's dreams. Few creatures, least of all humans, can understand such loyalty.[break][break]
Its cloth gently unfolds, snaking up Hitoshi's arm like a lover's caress. He has fine veins, or so doctors tell him on his rare visits. It finds one of these fine veins, pierces it, and drinks deep of dog blood.[break][break]
"I made you a promise I wouldn't die, remember? So I made a deal with this sword: it can have all my blood except the last drop. That's yours." And in that drop of blood, the last of his life, is his soul. Hers, now and forever. Driven to burn for her, to wade through filth, to kill for her dreams.[break]
It burns with such conviction that when he strikes at the voltorbs, a wave of fire washes over them. They scream, scorched before they can explode. They die before they can harm her. Whether is foe is some glorious thing like a legend or lowly orbs, he fights them with the same ferocity.[break][break]
It drains him. Five more voltorb are slain. Two remain, and they cower in fear. Hitoshi's flames scorch the building at the edge of the alley. Afterwards, he slumps. It is draining, and he is almost spent. Where her life is concerned, Yumi's dog is terrible at holding back.[break][break]
"You're the only one who gets to decide where I die."

I looked kinda cool for a second there.[break][break]
As soon as the thought passes through his mind, Hitoshi slumps to the ground. Even if he had the capacity to deny Yumi's wishes, he would be in no position to argue. The Hasegawa Muramasa, seemingly content with its blood-tithe, grows still. Its cloth unwraps, only a faint trickle of blood hinting that it pierced the dog's skin.[break][break]
"Yeah...think I'll do that." He agrees, watching the battle before him. Kartana swarm around him, chittering threats at Voltorb while Gallade finishes them off.[break][break]
"Ecin." One of the Kartana says, speaking utter nonsense.[break][break]
"The hell was that?" His amber eyes move to where the ring dropped the horde out of nowhere. "This region's so weird. Guess that's why Rocket cares about it so much."