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September 17, 2007
This morning the ninja moves like water through the city; she creeps onto curbs and balconies like the sun coming up over her shoulder. She is fearless in what remains of the night.

The night has been eventful. Her pulse still pounds in her ears and at her throat. She’s still riding the adrenalin high of a flawlessly executed plan, spending her commission, already, in her head. She knows what the sword is worth, to her employer and on the common market, and smiles. The ninja laughs quietly as she thinks of the upset the whole thing has caused. Good.