“Ah, the damsel in distress. Such a tired trope, is it not? The helpless maiden, unable to fend for themselves, needing a big, strong man to come to the rescue. But that has never been our story, has it Ayame?”
“We’re both more than capable. Some people hide that fact, wishing to be unassuming, but that’s never been our style – we wear our skills, our danger, on our sleeves. Instead of waiting at the top of that tower for Prince Charming to slay the dragon, we slit its throat while it sleeps. So tell me, you lil furry fucker… Why would I need your help?”
“Let’s go one step further… Why the hell would I want your help? I know what that entails – Lutherian Locke would be able to say if it wasn’t for the fact you killed the psycho cunt. What’s next? You gonna assist the Slums by sending in a firing squad? I mean, there can’t be hunger and poverty if there’s nobody left alive, right? And people call me the villain. Tch.”
“3 months. 3 fucking months. That is how long I survived being stalked, with nobody offering help, nobody stepping in. And on the night of mine and my betrothed nuptials, that is when you finally turn up to… ‘Help’. You know what we call that? Performative. That is hearing a bomb is in an orphanage, and waiting til there is a minute left on the timer before going ‘gee, someone’s gotta do something! I’ll drive over to see what I can do!’. It is virtue signalling, it is all a show – a pretence of compassion designed to make you look like the hero.”
“Maybe you couldn’t have known that the wedding was all I ever wanted… But that attention seeking warranted a beating regardless. I do not feel sorry, I do not feel any regret, I gave you what you deserved. Why, despite being the bride, I gave you a gift, the best one you have ever received! I severed the flesh and spine of that dumb fucking animal and bestowed it upon you, and I turned you into something greater. That, ladies and gentlemen… Is how you help someone.”
“I didn’t seek fanfare. I didn’t expect adulation. You know what I was after? A challenge. While you were fannying about with fat, funky fuckboys and dumbasses more interested in fighting themselves than anyone else, I was mixing it up with champions and killers. Compared to them, who the fuck is Wolf Fang Ayame? If I stood across from that pathetic wretch, where would be the danger? Where would be the thrill? So I helped you, I helped you to help myself. You’ve got a new look, a new attitude, presumably new woof woof powers for all of the degenerates to write rule 34 fanfic about. You’re welcome.”
“With that said, it won’t be enough. I’ve already stepped in your wolf den, and it took mere seconds for the pack to learn who the alpha is. As the generous, benevolent leader I am… I am more than happy to play an encore.”