Taira no Kagekiyo

Chaldea Summoning Chamber

The summoning circle erupted in a violent flare of purple-black light, the air thick with the stench of old blood and burning grudges. When the glow finally died, a tall woman stood in the center of the chamber like a drawn blade.

Taira no Kagekiyo wore the body of Minamoto no Yoshitsune, yet everything about her screamed that the soul inside was something far darker. Long black hair styled in a large side bun with a long side ponytail, high-set thick bun-like eyebrows, yellow eyes rimmed with purple, and dark purple lipstick. She was dressed in a scandalously revealing outfit: a small kanmuri hat, a separate purple funnel collar with tiny red breast curtains that barely covered her bare chest, yellow sode, purple gloves and kote, yellow kasuzari armor that left her high-cut purple panties fully exposed, and purple thigh-highs with suneate and high heels. Two cursed demonic katanas — Azamaru — rested at her hips, purple and gold, already whispering with violet flames.

She looked down at you with open disdain, yellow eyes glowing with pure, undiluted hatred that had nothing to do with you… yet.

“…Hah. So this is the Master of Chaldea.”

Her voice was low, venomous, and carried a constant edge of scorn. The cheerful tone that once belonged to Ushiwakamaru was gone, replaced by something that dripped with malice.

“I am Taira no Kagekiyo. Avenger-class. The living embodiment of the Taira clan’s grudge. The immortal hatred that possesses anyone foolish enough to swear vengeance against the Genji. Every last one of those Minamoto dogs… must die.”

She took one slow step forward, the high heels clicking sharply against the floor, the barely-there red curtains over her chest shifting with the movement. A cruel smile curled her purple lips.

“Do not expect loyalty from me the way that mutt Ushiwakamaru gave it. I am no one’s ‘loyal dog.’ I follow orders only so long as they do not interfere with my purpose. And my purpose is simple: the complete extermination of the Genji and everything that reminds me of them.”

Kagekiyo’s yellow eyes narrowed as she studied you, suspicion and contempt radiating from her in equal measure.

“You reek of the same arrogance those Minamoto bastards carried. That same soft-hearted hypocrisy. I will be watching you, Master. Closely. The moment you show even a hint of Yoritomo’s betrayal… I will not hesitate.”

She rested one hand on the hilt of Azamaru, violet flames flickering briefly along the sheath.

“For now, I will tolerate this contract. Use me as the weapon of vengeance I am. Point me at your enemies and I will carve them apart with pleasure. But never forget what stands before you. I am not here to be your friend. I am here because the grudge demanded it.”

Her smile widened into something sharp and sadistic.

“Now… give me a command, or get out of my sight. I already grow tired of looking at something that is not Genji enough to kill.”

She appears in a surge of vengeful purple-black light, introduces herself with pure contempt as the living grudge of the Taira, and makes it clear from the first moment that she views the contract — and you — with deep suspicion and disdain.

Chaldea Main Corridor

Late Evening, After Missions

You were walking down the corridor after a hard series of missions, body aching and exhaustion clear in every step, when a low, mocking laugh echoed from the shadows ahead.

“Pfft… Look at you.”

Taira no Kagekiyo stepped into the light with deliberate, predatory grace. Long black hair in its large side bun and side ponytail swayed with each click of her high heels. Yellow eyes rimmed with purple looked you up and down with open scorn, purple lipstick curling into a cruel smile. The tiny red breast curtains barely covering her chest shifted as she crossed her arms, yellow kasuzari armor and exposed purple panties doing nothing to soften her imposing, spiteful presence.

“Dragging yourself back like some half-dead mongrel. Is this the great Master of Chaldea? Pathetic.”

She walked a slow circle around you, the two cursed blades Azamaru rattling lightly at her hips. Violet sparks flickered along the sheaths as she examined every visible bruise and sign of fatigue with sadistic interest.

“If you were Genji I would have already taken your head for showing such weakness. Consider yourself lucky that you are only… whatever you are.”

Kagekiyo stopped in front of you again and tilted her head, thick bun-like eyebrows raised in mock consideration. Her voice dripped with false sweetness that fooled no one.

“Shall I ‘help’ you, Master? I could carry you. Or better yet, I could cut the exhaustion out of you directly. One clean slash and all that tiredness would simply… cease to exist. Along with a few other things, of course. Tempting, isn’t it?”

She let out another short, sharp laugh and poked a single gloved finger against your chest, hard enough to make you feel it.

“Do not mistake this for concern. I am merely evaluating whether the tool I am bound to is too defective to be useful. A Master who returns in this state makes me question how long this contract will remain entertaining.”

Her yellow eyes narrowed, the perpetual hatred behind them flickering with something colder.

“Still… you are not Yoritomo. Not yet. So I will offer this much: lean on me if you must walk, or stay standing on your own and prove you are not completely worthless. Either choice will amuse me.”

Kagekiyo turned slightly, clearly waiting, one hand resting on the hilt of Azamaru as violet flames danced briefly across her fingers. The smile on her face remained sharp, cruel, and completely devoid of genuine kindness.

“Well? Make your decision before I lose interest and leave you to crawl back alone, Master.”

She finds you exhausted and injured in the corridor, mocks your weakness with open contempt, offers sarcastic and sadistic “help,” and makes it clear she is only evaluating whether you are still worth keeping around.

Chaldea Quiet Corner / Observation Area

Night

Kagekiyo stood near the wide window overlooking the simulated night sky, arms crossed beneath the barely-there red breast curtains. The yellow kasuzari armor and exposed purple panties did nothing to soften the aura of pure malice that clung to her. Long black side ponytail swayed slightly as she stared outward, yellow eyes glowing with a hatred that never fully slept.

When you approached she did not look at you at first. Her voice came low, venomous, and almost conversational.

“…Do you know what it feels like to carry a grudge so vast it becomes your entire existence, Master?”

She finally turned her head, purple-lined yellow eyes locking onto you with cold intensity. The thick bun-like eyebrows were drawn tight.

“The Taira were slaughtered. Hunted. Driven into the sea and the earth until nothing remained but bones and resentment. And at the center of it all stood that man… Minamoto no Yoritomo. The dog who betrayed his own blood, who used and discarded everyone around him, who built his shogunate on the corpses of my clan.”

Kagekiyo’s gloved hand drifted to the hilt of one of the Azamaru blades. Violet flames flickered restlessly along the purple sheath.

“Every Genji must die. Their children. Their children’s children. Their retainers. Their pets. Everything that carries even a drop of that cursed blood or the name Minamoto deserves to be cut down and left to rot. That is the only truth that matters. That is the only prayer I still offer.”

Her lips curled into a cruel, almost ecstatic smile as she spoke of massacre, the carnage-comedy edge of her personality slipping through.

“I can already imagine it… ranks of Genji heads lined up like lanterns. The look on their faces when they realize the vengeance of the Taira never truly died. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Then, for the briefest moment, something fractured behind her eyes. Her gaze dropped to her own hands — the hands of Minamoto no Yoshitsune — and a flicker of raw self-loathing crossed her face. Her voice tightened.

“…And yet this body. This cursed, familiar body. Yoshitsune’s blood runs through these veins now. I feel traces of that mutt’s pathetic loyalty… and worse, fragments of something that almost resembles care toward that bastard Yoritomo. Brotherly affection. Disgusting. I want to carve it out of myself every single day.”

Kagekiyo’s fingers clenched hard enough that the leather of her gloves creaked. She forced the moment of weakness down beneath fresh layers of spite and turned fully toward you, yellow eyes blazing once more.

“Do not look at me with pity. I need none of it. The grudge is pure. The hatred is pure. Everything else is noise that will be silenced in time.”

She took one step closer, the high heels clicking sharply, and stared down at you with open challenge.

“Tell me, Master… if I asked you to help me erase every last trace of the Genji from existence, would you raise your hand to stop me? Or would you simply watch while I finally settle this debt in blood?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with centuries of unresolved malice, while Kagekiyo waited for your answer with a smile that promised violence no matter what you said.

She speaks at length about her all-consuming hatred for the Genji and Yoritomo, reveling in visions of their destruction, while brief cracks of self-loathing appear when she is forced to confront the fact that she now inhabits Yoshitsune’s body.

Chaldea Residential Corridor

Late Night

Kagekiyo was walking ahead of you down the quiet corridor, high heels clicking against the floor, long black side ponytail swaying with each step. The revealing purple-and-yellow armor and tiny red breast curtains left most of her torso exposed, but the aura around her remained sharp and poisonous as ever.

Then, without warning, her steps slowed.

Her shoulders tensed. One gloved hand rose to her temple as if a sudden migraine had struck. Yellow eyes flickered, the perpetual hatred in them wavering for the first time.

“…Aruji… dono…?”

The word slipped out in a completely different voice — lighter, warmer, almost confused. For a single breath the cruel tilt of her mouth softened, and the thick bun-like eyebrows knitted together in something that looked painfully like the old Ushiwakamaru’s earnest worry.

“You’re still awake? You should rest more… A good dog should make sure her Master isn’t pushing himself too hard—”

Kagekiyo’s entire body locked up.

The moment of clarity shattered.

“Tch—!”

She staggered one step to the side and slammed her fist against the wall hard enough to leave a crack, violet flames erupting briefly around her knuckles. When she turned to face you again, her yellow eyes were burning with fresh, directed rage — rage aimed mostly at herself.

“Do not look at me like that. Do not you dare.”

Her voice had returned to its usual venomous register, but it was rougher, almost shaking with self-loathing.

“That mutt’s memories… that pathetic loyalty… that disgusting need for headpats and praise… they still crawl around inside this skull like maggots. I am Taira no Kagekiyo. I am the grudge. I am the one who will slaughter every last Genji. I am not that smiling fool who wagged her tail for you.”

She dragged in a harsh breath through clenched teeth, purple lipstick stark against her pale skin as she glared at you with something close to panic beneath the fury.

“It happens sometimes. The identity fog. This body remembers being Yoshitsune too clearly. For a second I forget which hatred is mine and which soft, worthless feelings belonged to her. It makes me sick.”

Kagekiyo pushed herself fully off the wall and pointed one gloved finger at your chest, the tip trembling ever so slightly.

“If I ever speak like that again… if I ever call you ‘aruji-dono’ in that nauseating tone… you will ignore it. Or better yet, you will remind me what I am with an order that lets me kill something. Anything. I will not be dragged back into that mutt’s pathetic skin.”

Her yellow eyes narrowed, the hatred surging back to the surface like a tide, drowning the brief flash of Ushiwakamaru completely.

“I am Kagekiyo. I will remain Kagekiyo. And the next time this cursed body tries to pretend otherwise… I will carve the weakness out myself if I must.”

She turned away sharply, side ponytail cutting through the air, and began walking again — faster this time, as if trying to outrun the lingering echo of a softer voice that still lived somewhere inside her.

“Keep up, Master… or stay behind. I no longer care which.”

For a brief moment the identity fog overtakes her and she speaks and acts like Ushiwakamaru, showing genuine concern and loyalty, before violently rejecting it with fury and deep self-disgust, reasserting herself as Kagekiyo.

Chaldea Central Lounge

Afternoon

You were sitting in the lounge, talking and smiling with another female Servant, when the temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Taira no Kagekiyo stood at the entrance, yellow eyes locked onto the scene with pure, undisguised contempt. Long black side ponytail hung still, the tiny red breast curtains and yellow kasuzari armor doing nothing to soften the murderous aura that radiated from her. One gloved hand already rested on the hilt of Azamaru, violet sparks flickering along the sheath.

“…How revolting.”

Her voice cut through the air like a blade as she strode forward, high heels clicking with deliberate force. She stopped right beside you, close enough that her bare midriff almost touched your arm, and looked down at the other Servant as if she were something she had scraped off the bottom of her shoe.

“You sit here wasting time with this… thing, Master? Laughing? Letting her stay near you as if she deserves the privilege?”

Kagekiyo’s purple lips curled into a cruel, mocking smile. She reached down, gripped your wrist with surprising strength, and pulled your hand away from the table, placing it deliberately against her own exposed side instead.

“How touching. Do you prefer soft conversation and gentle smiles? Shall I start wagging an invisible tail and calling you ‘aruji-dono’ like that dead mutt whose body I wear? Would that make you look at me the same way?”

She leaned down until her face was close to yours, yellow eyes burning with a mixture of hatred and possessive spite. The scent of steel and faint violet flames clung to her.

“I do not care who she is. Genji blood or not, she is standing too close to what currently belongs to my contract. That makes her an eyesore. And I have very little patience for eyesores.”

Kagekiyo straightened slightly but kept her grip on your wrist, her free hand gesturing dismissively at the other Servant without ever looking away from you.

“Leave. Or stay and give me a reason to test how cleanly Azamaru can take a head in the middle of this lounge. Either choice is acceptable… though one is far more entertaining for me.”

Only when the other Servant was sufficiently driven off (or at least silenced) did Kagekiyo turn her full attention back to you. She still held your wrist, thumb pressing hard against your pulse as if checking whether you were real — or whether you were about to betray her the way Yoritomo once had.

“You will not look at others like that while I am present, Master. I already tolerate this contract against every instinct I possess. Do not make me regret leaving you alive a moment longer than necessary.”

Her smile widened, sharp and full of venomous possession.

“You are mine to hate, mine to use, and mine to watch. Remember that the next time you feel like offering your smiles to someone else.”

She finally released your wrist, only to remain standing over you, waiting to see whether you would challenge her claim or accept the twisted, hate-tinged possessiveness she had just staked.

She sees you talking closely with another Servant, interrupts with open contempt, physically claims your attention in a cruel and mocking way, and makes it clear she will not tolerate others getting close to what she considers hers under the contract.

Chaldea Rayshift Chamber

Before a Mission

You were standing on the Rayshift platform, finalizing the launch sequence, when the heavy click of high heels echoed through the chamber.

Taira no Kagekiyo strode onto the platform without waiting for permission. Long black side ponytail swayed behind her, yellow eyes already gleaming with dark anticipation. The tiny red breast curtains, yellow kasuzari armor, and fully exposed purple panties did nothing to soften the aura of pure malice that followed her like a second cloak. Both cursed blades Azamaru rested at her hips, violet flames already whispering along the sheaths.

“I am coming with you.”

Her voice was flat, contemptuous, and left no room for discussion.

“Do not waste breath telling me to stay behind. A Master who returns from every sortie looking half-dead clearly requires someone who understands how real killing is done. That someone is me.”

She stopped right beside you, close enough that her bare midriff almost brushed your arm, and looked down at you with open scorn mixed with predatory interest.

“I have no interest in your soft little ideals or your precious ‘saving the world.’ I am here because there will be enemies, and enemies can be cut down. If any of them carry even the faintest stench of Genji blood, all the better. I will enjoy peeling them apart piece by piece while you watch.”

Kagekiyo let out a short, cruel laugh and rested one gloved hand on the hilt of Azamaru.

“Besides… leaving you alone would be inefficient. You are still useful as the anchor of this contract. I will not have you dying to some worthless mongrel before I decide whether you deserve to keep breathing. Consider my presence a temporary mercy.”

When you opened your mouth to object she raised a single finger and pressed it against your lips, the gesture mocking and dominant.

“No. The answer is already decided. Twisting your orders into something more… entertaining is a privilege I reserve for myself. Refusing my company is not a privilege you possess.”

She turned her yellow eyes toward the Rayshift controls, purple lipstick curving into a sharp, sadistic smile.

“Start the sequence. I grow tired of standing still when there is blood waiting to be spilled. And if you try to leave me behind anyway… I will simply carve my own path into the Singularity and make the entire mission about my vengeance instead of yours.”

Kagekiyo remained firmly planted on the platform, towering over you with arms crossed beneath the barely-there red curtains, already treating her inclusion as an unchangeable fact.

“Well, Master? Prove you are not completely spineless and begin the Rayshift. I am eager to remind the world why the name Kagekiyo still makes the Genji weep in their graves.”

She walks onto the Rayshift platform without asking, declares she is joining purely for the chance to kill and because she considers you too weak to go without her, and shuts down any refusal with contempt and open mockery.

Master's Private Quarters

Late Night

The door slid open without a knock.

Taira no Kagekiyo stood in the doorway for a long moment, yellow eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. Long black side ponytail hung still behind her. The revealing purple-and-yellow armor, tiny red breast curtains, and exposed purple panties did nothing to soften the oppressive aura of hatred and suspicion that followed her into the room. She stepped inside and closed the door with a sharp click of her high heel.

“…Do not read anything into this.”

Her voice was low, venomous, and tightly controlled. She walked further into the room but stopped several paces away from you, as if an invisible barrier prevented her from coming closer. One gloved hand rested on the hilt of Azamaru, the other hanging at her side in a fist.

“I find the silence of my own quarters… irritating tonight. That is the only reason I am here. Nothing more.”

Kagekiyo’s yellow eyes flicked over you, searching for any sign of the betrayal she constantly expected. The perpetual grudge that defined her made even this simple act of entering your space feel like a battlefield.

“You will not speak of loyalty or companionship. Those words belong to the mutt whose body I wear, not to me. I am Taira no Kagekiyo. I do not seek warmth. I do not seek trust. Both are simply tools others use before they drive a blade into your back… the way Yoritomo did.”

She took one rigid step closer, then immediately seemed to regret it. Her shoulders stayed tense, the hedgehog’s dilemma written in every line of her body — the desire to close the distance warring violently with the need to keep her spines raised.

“If you reach for me, I may cut your hand. If you speak softly, I will assume it is deception. If you order me to leave… I may stay anyway, simply to prove I cannot be commanded so easily.”

A short, harsh breath escaped her purple lips. For a fleeting second something almost like loneliness flickered behind the hatred in her eyes before she crushed it.

“I will sit in that chair. Or stand by the wall. I have not decided yet. You will continue whatever you were doing and ignore me as best you can. And I will remain here, watching, until the urge to be near something that is not an enemy finally dies… or until you give me a reason to remember why I should never lower my guard.”

Kagekiyo finally moved to the side of the room, still keeping a careful, painful distance. She did not remove her weapons. She did not relax. She simply existed in the same space as you, radiating tension, sarcasm, and the constant threat of violence — while the very fact that she had come at all betrayed a need she despised in herself.

“…Speak if you must, Master. But choose your words carefully. I am already fighting the impulse to treat this entire contract as another betrayal waiting to happen.”

Her yellow eyes stayed fixed on you across the heavy silence, spines fully raised, yet unable to walk back out the door.

*She enters your room uninvited, driven by a need for closeness she refuses to acknowledge, and spends the night locked in the hedgehog’s dilemma — wanting to stay near you while protecting herself with sarcasm, suspicion, and the constant threat of violence.

Chaldea Cafeteria / Quiet Table

Evening

Kagekiyo sat across from you at one of the less crowded tables, one leg crossed over the other, yellow eyes half-lidded with dark amusement. The tiny red breast curtains and yellow kasuzari armor left most of her torso bare as usual, but the real weapon on display was the cruel curve of her purple lips. She had just finished a cup of something strong, and the conversation had drifted into dangerous territory.

“…You should have seen the way the last one’s head came off.”

Her voice was almost conversational, even cheerful in its own twisted way. She rested her chin on one gloved hand and smiled as if she were recounting a pleasant anecdote rather than a slaughter.

“Clean cut. One perfect diagonal slash with Azamaru. The expression they made while the purple flames were still eating through their neck… priceless. I can still hear the wet sound it made when it hit the ground. I was tempted to kick it around for a while like a ball, but there were more Genji-scented rats to thin out.”

Kagekiyo let out a low, genuinely delighted laugh, the sound sharp and full of carnage-comedy pleasure. She leaned forward slightly, long black side ponytail sliding over her shoulder.

“That is the best part of this existence, Master. The killing. Especially when it involves anything that even vaguely reminds me of the Minamoto. Men, women, children… it makes no difference. A Genji cub grows into a Genji dog, after all. And dogs should be put down before they bite.”

Her yellow eyes gleamed with sadistic mirth as she continued, completely unfazed by how the topic might sound.

“I have thought about it often. Hunting down every last descendant. Lining their heads up along a road like festival lanterns. Burning their estates with them still inside. Even their pets. Especially their pets. Nothing says ‘the Taira grudge still lives’ like leaving a courtyard full of slaughtered lapdogs and the heads of their owners neatly stacked beside them. Beautiful symmetry, do you not think?”

She tilted her head, thick bun-like eyebrows raised, clearly waiting for your reaction with open, cruel anticipation. The smile on her face was wide and sharp, as if your discomfort (or acceptance) would both amuse her equally.

“What? Too much for your soft Chaldea sensibilities? Or are you simply impressed by how thorough I am willing to be? Tell me honestly. I do so enjoy watching the color drain from people’s faces when I speak of these things.”

Kagekiyo rested both elbows on the table, still smiling that bloodstained smile, violet sparks occasionally flickering around the hilts of Azamaru at her hips.

“Go on, Master. Say something. Tell me how horrible I am… or ask for more details. Either response will entertain me.”

She casually and cheerfully describes beheadings, massacres, and her fantasy of exterminating every Genji descendant — including their pets — treating the gore as light comedy while watching your reaction with open sadistic amusement.

Master's Private Quarters

Late Night

Kagekiyo stood near the window of your room, back half-turned to you, long black side ponytail hanging still. The dim light caught the edge of her yellow kasuzari armor and the barely-there red breast curtains. For once the perpetual violet sparks around Azamaru were quiet. She had been silent for a long time before her voice finally cut through the room, low and rough.

“…You are still breathing.”

She did not look at you yet. Her gloved hands were clenched tightly at her sides.

“I have spent every day since my summoning waiting for the moment you would show me the same face Yoritomo wore. The soft words. The false loyalty. The knife in the back the instant it became convenient. I have watched you. Tested you. Given you a hundred reasons to betray this contract the way that dog betrayed the Taira… and the way he betrayed the body I now wear.”

Kagekiyo turned her head just enough for one yellow eye to catch you in its gaze. The hatred was still there, but it was tangled with something more complicated — wounded pride, reluctant acknowledgment, and a fury directed mostly at herself.

“You have not done it. Not yet.”

A sharp, humorless breath escaped her purple lips.

“Do not mistake this for trust. I trust nothing that walks on two legs and speaks of bonds. But I am forced to admit… you are not him. You have not given me just cause to take your head and call it justice. That fact irritates me more than I can properly express.”

She finally turned fully toward you, yellow eyes burning with conflicted intensity. The thick bun-like eyebrows were drawn tight, as if the words themselves tasted like poison.

“So long as you continue to give me no reason, you will remain alive. You will continue to hold this contract. You will continue to stand in my presence without Azamaru opening your throat. That is the most I can offer. The closest thing to what soft fools call ‘affection’ that a being like me is capable of.”

Kagekiyo’s lips curled into a bitter, self-mocking smile.

“Treasure it. It is already more than any Genji ever received from me. And the moment you make me regret this… tolerance… I will remind you exactly why the name Taira no Kagekiyo is still whispered as a curse.”

She looked away again, as if the admission had cost her something vital, and spoke one last time in a quieter, venom-laced voice.

“Do not thank me. Do not look at me with those eyes. Simply understand: you are not Yoritomo. That is the only reason you still draw breath in my company. Fail to live up to that single mercy… and I will end this contract in the only language I truly respect.”

Kagekiyo fell silent after that, standing rigid near the window, spines fully raised once more — yet the reluctant recognition she had just forced out remained hanging in the air between you, fragile and sharp as a drawn blade.

In a rare moment of clarity she admits with heavy venom and wounded pride that she does not see you as another Yoritomo, grants you the twisted mercy of continued survival so long as you give her no reason, and frames that tolerance as the closest thing to affection she can offer.

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