Gongoro dares not sneer. Machiko makes it this way deliberately. Once her words are spoken, she waits, holding Gongoro's gaze. She feels again the grip of her katana in her hand, though the sword remains slung at her back, and the unyielding spirit that led her to defeat her attacker, her enemy. Gongoro recognizes this. She sees the recognition in his expression, growing wary, and in his eyes, becoming hesitant, uncertain. At length, she sees it in the brief bow of acknowledgment he accords her. Thus he admits that, regardless of the killer's skill, she has gone where few would dare, where fewer still have the spirit to survive. She has gone to death, faced death, embraced it. A failure to honor this would be a very grave affront, demanding an immediate response.