Around midnight, I felt a light tap on my arm. I opened my eyes to see a shadowy figure in full black assassin attire — cape, mask, and all. It was Akane.
She placed a finger on her lips in a silent "Shh" gesture and quietly slipped out of the room. I followed her across the hall into a dimly lit guest room. The moment the door closed, Akane turned to face me.
"I'm sorry… for waking you up like this," she said softly, her voice weaker than usual.
Before I could reply, I noticed something was terribly wrong. Akane was standing unsteadily, her posture slightly hunched.
One hand was pressed tightly against her stomach, fingers trembling. Dark crimson blood was steadily dripping from between her fingers onto the wooden floor, forming a small puddle at her feet.
"Akane…?" I stepped closer, alarmed.
