She was not at all sure what to make of 'this Sesshoumaru,' but it seemed what little fight had bubbled between them had disintegrated into nothing. She was wary when he approached once more, but the girl did not step back for fear; nor did she lash out. She watched as he took the light, and then a second knife -- for her, she realized, shifting her inventory of hand to take the small thing by its handle. A third knife went with him, the blade longer than either of hers, but it was more uniform in width, and possessed a jagged lower edge. All the blades were single-edged; she knew that none were really all that suited for stabbing or combat.

They'd do.

The smaller knife went carefully into a slim pocket, for it was much too small, narrow, and unevenly balanced to tuck into her belt. She should have kept her beret, she thought now; she could have cut into it with the knife and slipped that firmly onto her belt, and use that to carry such small items as this. Lesson learned.

She waited for her companion to disappear through his own door before moving to hers, reaching for the handle with the knife still in her grip. The handle of the weapon was narrow, and braced on her thumb she could easily manage something as simple as a door.

The girl crossed the threshold.

[to here]