The way Synthira handled the last two assassins... surprised Daishira. She strangled one, almost to death. Impressive. He was helped up, and that help was very much appreciated. If not for her, his eyeball would be skewered by a very sharp dagger - an image he would not want to have experienced. They were alright, for now and found themselves on the rooftop of a nearby house. From here, they could still observe the scene of the battle that took place. Thankfully, there were no civilians nearby, but Daishira had a feeling that was not down to luck, that the assassins had chose to attack him when there were no civilians. That means they were professionals... and that means...
“I think,” she said breathlessly, “that you owe me some answers. I’ll start with the obvious questions. Who are those men? What do they want? And why are they after you specifically? They know my face now, and when they wake up they are not likely to remember me fondly. I must know what I – we – are up against.”
Daishira ignored her immediately, and made his way back down to the scene. Here, he retrieved his angle blade he had forgotten in the haste of escape and leaned over the unconscious assassins. A quick search was conducted, but unluckily (or more accurately, expectantly), there were no notes or commands or letters instructing them to kill Daishira. They were issued by word. Common. With that thought, he slit their throats efficiently, with no hesitation. After the search and finished jobs, Daishira went back up to Synthira.
He said first, "Now there's no trouble of them remembering your face."
Looking hard into her, Daishira continued, "I should not have involved you in my... personal affairs. I am not a monster, please do not think that. I have to kill them in self defence. They are assassins sent to eliminate me. Why? Well, because of my past. And what I did, well actually, what I witnessed..."
Daishira fell silent. He hated recalling his past to people. He was starting to like Synthira, and maybe he can still get to know her, but no doubt her impression of him had changed more than dramatically in the past ten minutes. His eyes fell on her face once more, dotted with spots of blood, but her beauty still prevailed even with these blemishes.
Fine, indeed... he thought to himself. A romantic fantasy wildly appeared in his mind, but he shut it down before it developed any further. He needed to concentrate on explaining himself before any chance of... THAT happening.
"They were probably not paid, because of the... circumstances... but forced to kill me. Poor souls. May they rest in peace now. I'm afraid... I..."
He figured it best to let Synthira speak up and respond. And also, he needed an excuse to change topic. And not to the romantic fantasy either.