endless_scrolls (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endless_scrolls) wrote2006-10-06 07:48 pm
endless_scrolls) wrote2006-10-06 07:48 pm
Entry tags:
Double-Edged
Title: Double-Edged
Type: Original
Character(s): Ishida Takami, Ishida Yamaki, Kido Hikari, Hida Shirou, Hida Masaki
Warning(s): Blood and brief mentions of gore. Also, it's really long; about 8 pages single spaced. So I suggest reading this when you have the time.
Notes: A story written for my Creative Writing class Winter semester of 2006. It was originally a fanfic, but I re-worked it and made it into an original piece. I wonder if I can manage to do so with my other fanfics.
A chill wind blew with the first icy frost of the season as Takami stared out the window of the dimly lit restaurant. The burgundy colored leather texture of the seats in the booth squeaked softly with her movements as the young girl shifted to get more comfortable in her creamy mocha dress. The amorous atmosphere surrounding her did nothing but sicken the young lady, rotting up the air with the flowery scent of romance. Absentmindedly, she eyed the light blanket of snow outside that had fallen the night before, covering a multitude of rainbowed leaves that symbolized the changing of the seasons. A tiny part of her wished that she could indulge in her child-like urge to go outside and play in the white, fluffy substance just for a moment like she used to do so many years ago. But Takami soon pushed away such immature thoughts, quick to remind her self that those days were long gone and should be forgotten. No good came from dwelling in the past; it was fixed and unchangeable much like the dark void of space. All that mattered was now…which brought her back to her current problem.
“I am going to kill Yamaki for answering that ad in the newspaper,” Takami mumbled to herself, the small wrinkles at the corners of her mouth marring her otherwise passive face, “And nothing he or Hikari says will stop me.”
Taking a pause from her fuming thoughts, her sparkling hazel eyes darted to the finely crafted knife glinting in the twilight of the room. Admiring how it had been delicately placed next to her porcelain plate, she resisted the urge to fiddle with the razor-sharp edges of the utensil, a nervous habit she had developed over time that usually calmed her. From a very early age, any form of weaponry had always played a prominent role in Takami Ishida’s life. They were her escape from the cruelties of the outside world, shielding her childish innocence while she took comfort in their cold and paper-thin edges. It was certainly a quality that one would not expect from a girl who had been raised in the small town of Otsu, located only a few miles east of the elegant city of Kyoto, Japan which was primarily known for its artistic and traditional attributes. But Takami made it clear that she cared little for the social order and policies of the two when she became the top-ranking weapon specialist in the region. After all, it was a necessary skill to have in her line of work.
“Are you ready to order, miss?” the waiter asked politely, presenting the usual glowing smile you would expect at any fancy restaurant.
“Not yet,” Takami replied politely, returning the generic smile, “I’m still waiting for my date to arrive.”
With a quick and curt nod, the waiter was gone once more, growling his frustration when he thought she was too far away to hear, finding herself alone again, Takami quietly picked up the glass of sake that she had been carefully nursing for the past hour, making sure not to overdo the drinking before her blind date arrived. Images of her brother Yamaki and his longtime girlfriend Hikari Kido watched her intently within the confines of the reflective surface of the liquid. They had insisted on coming along to insure that her date was a perfect gentleman. Casually, her free hand moved to rest on the small dagger strapped to her thigh, hidden under layers of loose fabric, standing as a welcoming comfort to her own meticulous mind.
A soft ‘ding’ signaled the entrance of more people into her shadowed surroundings. Nervous fingers began drumming along the seam of her dress while a single heart started beating a little faster. Letting out a calming sigh she sipped the fermented juices and welcomed the cool feeling of liquid nirvana flowing smoothly down her throat. Closing her eyes to the outside world, Takami waited for the sake to slowly erase the weariness and anxiety creeping over her stressed limbs. Glancing over the slim curve of her shoulder she watched with disdain as Yamaki waved at her from his seat a few tables away with a little too much enthusiasm for a young man of his age and station, causing the meek Hikari to blush at all the attention he was creating. Clenching her teeth past the initial embarrassment and lingering anger, Takami forced out a smile before politely waving back to him in a less excited manner.
I don‘t have time for this, she thought in annoyance, briefly brushing her thin fingers through the ivory petals of the rose pinned in her dark tresses, I should be training, not waiting here for some guy to show up.
At the young age of twelve when the purity of children was on the brink of waking into the tainted world of adulthood, Takami was introduced to the secret and dark underworld that existed within the social circles among the Japanese providences as well as the on-going feud between these powerful clans. Only eighteen at the time Yamaki had brought her into the Hiroyuki social circle when he was made a member. With the “mysterious” deaths of their parents, the adolescent boy was left with few alternatives concerning his little sister. Neither had a living relative to rely on and placing her into foster care was not an option. He refused to risk losing her within the poorly maintained government system.
Takami was quickly placed into the Otsu training program with all the other potentials. As all other clan members under the order of the family patriarch, Kai Hiroyuki, her schedule had been strict; more so because she viewed herself as an outcast and constantly felt the need to prove herself to the others. She was not chosen but allowed to join as a packaged deal in taking Yamaki. Her mornings were reserved for schoolwork and studies while evenings consisted of learning various tricks of the trade, ranging from combat tactics to reconnaissance. And without the usual distractions Takami immersed herself into training; living it, breathing it, and excelling with the natural talent that came so easily for nine years of her life. Now at the ripe age of twenty-one where her potential was at its peak, Takami was considered one of the clan’s best spy and assassin that had ever been produced in the region. And it was that kind of devoted dedication that concerned Yamaki.
“Hey there, kiddo,” said person greeted cheerfully, “How’re you doing?”
“I‘m sitting here waiting for a guy you set me up with to show,” the younger replied cynically, “How do you think I’m doing?”
“This was for your own good,” the elder stated with conviction.
“Picking out some random guy from the village personal ads was for my own good?” she countered in an eerily calm tone, one of her thin brows raising at the question.
Yakami had been so proud and confident when he had told her the “good news”. She would have laughed at how his chest seemed to swell out boastfully when he told her about the blind date he orchestrated behind her back had she not been completely furious at him for doing so. Oblivious to the murderous aura surrounding his sister, Yamaki had waved the clipped ad around like a prized trophy. It was such a rare sight to see from the usually self-conscious young man that Takami almost felt sorry for giving him a black eye...almost.
“It wasn’t some random guy,” Yamaki corrected defensively, sporting a dark bruise around his left eye, “I picked the one I thought you‘d like.”
“But I didn’t ask you to,” she sighed, gently setting down the wine glass on the table, “I don‘t have the time or patience to deal with this kind of thing.”
“That’s exactly my point,” her brother retorted softly, “You’re getting too involved in your work.”
“Is your loyalty to the clan wavering?” the young woman questioned suddenly, lowering her voice so that no one else could hear, “Is that what it is?”
“No, of course not!” Yamaki quickly replied in the same manner, “I know what Kai does to doubters.”
“Then what is it?” she asked in annoyance, confused by his actions.
“…I’m just worried about you,” the elder Ishida admitted with a sigh, “This wasn’t exactly the way mom and dad wanted you to grow up.”
“You did the best you could and that’s all they could ask for,” came her automatic response, turning her attention to the window once more, “I’m fine Yamaki; the clan is all that I need.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Yamaki muttered under his breath.
Sighing wearily in defeat, the elder Ishida sibling stood up and made his trek back to where Hikari had been patiently waiting for him at their table. Takami watched him leave out the corner of her well-trained eye, ignoring the painful constricting feeling within the dark caverns of her chest. She understood that her brother’s concern was merely a result of the guilt he felt for not being able to provide after with a normal life after they lost their parents. But she also knew that anything he attempted now or planned to do in the future would not change what had already occurred. Their parents were gone and the two of them agents for the Hiroyuki. That was how the world worked for them now and would remain so until old age or death stopped it.
The sooner he realizes that, the sooner he can start ignoring the guilt as well, she thought bitterly, There’s no room in life for regrets.
Outside, the bare tree branches swayed gently in the wind as the temperature made a slow descent down to better accommodate the coming winter. Birds littered the ground and sky as they prepared for their annual migration towards warmer climates, leaving the adaptable humans behind in their wake. As she watched the black dots in the sky disappear to a better paradise, Takami took note with great scorn of the growing number of people wandering around the paved streets. She cringed at the more frequent ‘ding’ of the bell, signaling a rush of customers entering for their evening meals. Irritated by all the couples unnecessarily huddled together for warmth as they strolled down the road, she turned away form the window. Lifting the glass of wine for a quick sip, she paused when the image of Yamaki and Hikari appeared in the alcoholic drink once more. Yamaki seemed to have forgotten all about his concerns for young Takami, his full attention being focused on Hikari as they laughed at some private joke. At the sight of their seemingly perfect bliss a small ache pricked in her heart, causing Takami to slam down the glass with a little more force thatn she had intended. A little bit of sake splashed onto the white tablecloth, slowly spreading out like blood on cold marbled flooring.
Maybe I have been working too hard, Takami pondered tiredly.
“I don’t believe this,” a distantly familiar voice said, pulling Takami from her thoughts.
She was startled at first with the sudden intrusion, taking a quick moment to reorient herself with reality. Lifting her head towards the voice, Takami was greeted with the familiar image of Shirou Hida, a fellow member and agent of the Hiroyuki clan, clothed in relatively dressy-casual attire visible under his dark trench coat. He was a handsome young man, to be sure, especially with the way he carried himself. But what caught her attention was the silver rose pin on the collar of his shirt, glowing beautifully in the evening light. Much like the white rose Takami wore in her hair, the rose pin was a trinket her date was suppose to be wearing so that she would be able to recognize him.
“Shirou?” Takami called out in disbelief, “You’re my blind date?”
-x-
Poking at her food with the end of her chopsticks, Takami glanced up from her plate to stare at her unexpected date, only to find him staring back. A mysterious young man to be sure, Shirou was one of the few specialty agents within the clan, knowledgeable in the various poisons and their antidotes as well as possessing great skill with the katana blade. But much like Takami, he had remained separate and reclusive from the others. Even now as their eyes met for a brief moment, they simply smiled politely at each other before diverting their attention to more mundane things. For what seemed like the millionth time since Shirou’s arrival, Takami’s eyes wandered towards the back of the restaurant where Masaki Hida sat in the shadows watching them much like her brother was most likely doing. Her brows furrowed at the thought, both annoyed and embarrassed at having tow higher-ranking clan members watching what she considered her first date.
“Pay them no mind,” Shirou commented softly, his deep voice sounding out sweetly amid the soft music playing in the background.
“Easy for you to say,” she mumbled to herself.
“So, I assume that your brother replied to the ad my brother put in the newspaper,” he continued on with a half-hearted laugh, “I have a hard time believing that a respected assassin like you would sign anything ‘Flower of Otsu’.”
“…I am going to kill my brother,” Takami commented, rubbing her forehead in embarrassment.
“Join the club,” Shirou scoffed, “Maybe the two of us could team up against them during training.”
“I’ll agree to that,” the young Ishida joked.
“Ok, then,” the young Hida responded with a smirk, “It’s a date.”
“Getting a little ahead of yourself don’t you think?” she pointed out, “We’re not even done with this one.”
Shirou’s only response was a knowing grin, hinting at some hidden understanding open only to him. Eyeing the slightly older assassin, she made to question his actions only to e immediately cut off by a scream of fright emanating from the other side of the restaurant. Trained to act calmly in most situations, Takami’s senses were on full alert as she stood up from her seat, ready for any complications that might come her way. She took a step towards were all the commotion was centered, only to be stopped by a calm and well-placed hand on her wrist, belonging to none other than Shirou. His grasp was firm yet gentle as he raised a slender finger to his chapped lips, silently asking her to remain quiet before she had a chance to voice her thoughts. Keeping a secure hold on her as he bent to grab his coat, waiting patiently while Takami did the same before quickly pulling her towards the entrance of the restaurant. He stopped for only a brief moment to hand the waiter a folded-up piece of paper, walking out without uttering a single word while a panic broke out all around them.
Once out in the frigid cold, Shirou gave in to the girl’s struggles and promptly let ogo of her delicate wrist. She turned towards the silent man for an explanation, but found none and could only watch with a mix of confusion and irritation as he casually put on his trench coat. Grumbling curses about the whole situation she did the same, pausing in her blasphemous ramblings when said assassin knelt down beside the slightly ajar door. She watched with great curiosity and then astonishment as a thin, rope-like creature slithered out from under the small crack of the door and into the awaiting hands of Shirou.
“And that is how you get out of a blind date,” he commented smugly, giving said creature a small piece of meat as reward before slipping it into his coat pocket.
“You planned this didn‘t you?” Takami asked, doing little to hide the amazement in her voice, “The Yamakagashi was just a distraction so you could make your escape.“
“Of course,” was his simple and even reply.
“And that piece of paper you gave to the waiter?” she questioned further, following after him when he started walking off.
“Just a note saying to bill Masaki for our meal,” Shirou replied matter-of-factly. With a chuckle at the thought, he added, “That should keep him from setting me up on dates for a while.”
“Clever and vengeful,” the young assassiness observed, “Very impressive.”
“Thank you, I try,” he responded humorously.
“Well, I suppose this is the end of our date,” Takami added, “Good day to you, Shirou.”
“Wait,” the young Hida called out, just as she turned to leave, “Just because the dinner’s over doesn’t mean that we can’t enjoy the rest of the evening.”
A little shocked at his proposition, Takami paused a moment before she reacted. “Let me get this straight, you want to continue this torturous experience?”
“It hasn’t been that bad, has it?” he reasoned, “Besides, who can show you a better time than a fellow assassin?”
“I don’t know,” she said skeptically.
“Come on, you can come with me while I take this little guy back to the rice patty where I found him,” Shirou suggested, waving to the snake currently in his pocket, “You’re welcome to leave any time between now and then.”
“And what’s to stop me from leaving now?” was her response, a challenge to his plan.
“A general curiosity plaguing your mind,” Shirou countered effortlessly, “So, what do ou say?’
Biting her bottom lip indecisively, Takami eyed the younger Hida sibling warily while she mentally debated her options. All the while, Shirou stared back at her with complete charm sparkling in his hazel eyes. Alluring and welcoming as they were, she found she could not resist the offer.
“…Fine,” she finally replied, sighing in defeat.
“Great,” was Shirou’s only response, paired with his ever familiar smirk, “Follow me.”
Rolling her eyes at how easily she had given in, Takami could not help but laugh at the irony of the situation.
I guess the Hiroyuki needs to start training us against charm now, she thought sarcastically.
The smile that had managed to work its way on to her face quickly disappeared at the thought of the clan as Takami was reminded of her lat assignment only days before. Her young and innocent appearance had turned out to be a great advantage, easily fooling her target into trusting her. Even as the young girl plunged the edge of her tanto knife into the Kishimoto’s abdomen, he had looked upon her with calm and muted understanding. His young blood had flowed so smooth and freely over her hand, leaving him nothing but a lifeless shell. She could still feel the slippery substance coating her pale fingers.
Absentmindedly, Takami glanced down at her hands, pinked from the lower temperatures. They were clean now, having been cleansed of the offending traces of her work days before when she returned from the mission. But no amount of soap and disinfectant could wash her mind clean of the image etched in her memory. Even now blood would appear on her hands for instances before revealing seconds later that they were spotless. Shivering at the haunting thought, Takami stuffed her chilled hands into the warm confines of her pockets so that she would no longer be plagued with such visions.
“Takami, are you alright?” Shirou inquired, partially concerned but not enough to be fully serious, “Don’t tell me you’re tired of me already.”
“No, I’m fine,” she replied dismissively, “I was just…thinking about things.”
“Good things I hope,” he said optimistically.
“Of course,” she lied.
The two continued walking in peaceful silence down the stone pavement. Occasionally, Takami glanced around warily at her surroundings, taking note of the growing number of people they would come across on the street. Bouts of panic grazed across her mind as they neared the open market, the half-way point to their destination. She was able to calm herself with a few deep breaths, remembering the resistance training she had received at the Hiroyuki disciplinary facility when the sound of metal against wood broke her concentration. She turned towards the soft thud just in time to witness the sharp butcher knife slice through a thick slab of meat, still bleeding and dripping of fat. Reminded of her last victim, she quickly backed away from the appalling image, bumping into various shoppers in the process who were merely there to buy ingredients needed to make their evening meals.
Amid all the noise and confusion building around her from disturbed pedestrians and her own mental state, Takami had lost sight of Shirou. Finding herself a little overwhelmed, the seemingly unstable assassin quickly ducked into a side street, leaning against a nearby building to gather and collect her scattered thoughts. Unconsciously her hand crept up to rest at the base of her neck. It was only then that Takami became fully aware of the rapid beating of her heart against her rib cage. She felt like she was drowning, her breaths quickly becoming shallow and labored. Endless hopelessness filled her every thought as she slid helplessly to the ground, the world around her slowly fading until everything was cast under the shadow of permanent black.
-x-
The rough bark of the tree pressed into her back as she leaned against it for support. The sun was finally setting over the horizon, casting long shadows across her vision and giving off a yellow glow to everything in sight. Even the swirling clouds of smoke rolling out of her mouth with every breath sparkled with a yellow aura. Shirou stood nearby leaning against his own tree, looking back at the two gates as the fading rays caressed the gentle curves of his face.
“Are you alright now?” he asked, the deep ring of his voice resounding through the peaceful atmosphere.
“Yeah,” she replied meekly, still a bit unnerved by what had happened, “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Shirou muttered evenly, “I deal with Solo-Gents all the time.”
“Solo-Gent?” she questioned.
“Solitary Agent,” was his simple explanation, “Those that have been isolated for so long that they have great anxiety when around large crowds of people.”
“Oh,” was Takami’s only response, unable to react in any other way.
Glancing in her direction for a moment, Shirou calmly walked down a nearby dirt path leading to a dying rice patty, all the while reaching into his pocket to take out the awaiting Yamakagashi. Kneeling down beside the chilled water, he released the creature and watched quietly as it swam away. Takami stared at the fading ripples glide across the surface of the water, amazed at how such an effortless movement could create such a lasting and profound image.
Like stabbing an innocent young man from a rival clan, she mused emotionlessly.
“Do you ever get tired of it?” Shirou asked suddenly, his tone quiet and solemn, “Of all the death and secrets clouding our lives?”
“Do you?” Takami questioned in reply, stalling until she could come up with hr own answer.
“I don‘t know, maybe,” he mumbled indecisively, “There‘s only so much a person can take before they start to wonder why.”
“It’s for the good of the clan,” Takami commented, remembering those exact words being said to her when she first started working, “That should be reason enough.”
“Is that what you really think?” the young Hida inquired, biting back his growing frustration..
“It‘s what I was taught,” she replied truthfully, “I know nothing else.”
“…Then you’re a fool for believing everything you’re told,” Shirou stated coldly, turning away to end the discussion there.
“What do you have against the Hiroyuki?” the young Ishida questioned, her voice meek and soft despite her defiant act against him.
“Nothing,” was his sarcastic reply, “It’s just their bloody legacy that I have a problem with.”
“This is a war,” she pressed on, “Casualties are to be expected.”
“A war of social politics among snobbish aristocrats is meaningless and only serves to corrupt the young,” Shirou countered, “I mean, look at what it did to you.”
Taken aback by the sudden attack Takami remained silent, biting back any comment that lingered on her lips. His remark had been harsh, snapping at the core of her very soul and leaving a lasting impression on her spirit. Her voice stifled by his statement Shirou could have ended it there and been on his way, leaving her to face whatever demon might arise. But he made no move to leave, choosing simply just to stand there with his eyes fixed on the horizon. And as Takami joined in watching the last rays of sun disappear behind the range of mountains at the edge of their vision, a single snowflake fell on her nose.
The evening bells sounded in the distance, rolling through the miles from the Kyoto temples to ring ominously on the little town of Otsu as they did every morning and night. And as Takami lifted her eyes to the darkened sky, misted with white flakes, a heaviness settled on her heart as Shirou’s words echoed through her mind. So entranced in thought was the Ishida girl that she neglected to notice the small rustle of leaves and soft movement in the nearby woods that would have alerted her of the incoming threat.
Aware of the shuriken flying towards his companion, Shirou rushed to pull her out of harm’s way. Jerked by the collar of her jacket, a dull thud was all that Takami heard before she found herself sprawled out over Shirou, both on the ground after slipping on some ice. Unfazed by their close proximity, she quickly got up to examine the throwing star that was embedded in the trunk of the tree. It was only then that she noticed a parchment attached to the razor sharp edges of the weapon.
“What is it?” Shirou asked as she unraveled the document.
“It looks like a mission scroll,” Takami replied, skimming through the information written, “They have a new assignment for me…in Ibusuki.”
“You better go,” Shirou responded emotionlessly, “I know how the Hiroyuki hate to wait.”
Prepared to follow his instructions, she took a step towards town only to pause afterwards. Not ready to leave just yet, she walked up to the younger Hida instead, looking so small next to his towering height. She could not leave their discussion there, unresolved and unfinished.
“Please reconsider you opinions about the clan,” she pleaded softly, “I understand how you feel about this feud, but we do what we must to survive.”
“We shouldn’t have to,” was Shirou’s whispered response, slowly and gently cupping her cheek.
Unexpectedly he ran his thumb along the soft skin of her cheek, dusted pink with the beginnings of a blush at such an intimate gesture. She let out a shaky breath, nervous of the sight of the handsome young man leaning in closer. Almost instantly she felt her eyes slide close, all her senses focusing on the light pressure against her lips. It was a light kiss; a chaste kiss, making what she had to do all the more difficult. But the opposing views of her personal and professional opinions were one of the first things the Hiroyuki made sure to eliminate during her training. So with little effort, she thrusted the dagger into the vital organs located in his midsection, her passive face never wavering when blood spilled out over the stainless steel and coated her hand. She never flinched as the life-sustaining liquid pooled at their feet to taint the purity of the snow on the ground.
“Why?” Shirou questioned breathlessly, quickly weakening at the loss of blood.
“Because this is the consequence of your doubt,” she answered, automatic and machine-like, “You lost faith in the clan and with it Kai’s trust.”
“...There was no assignment in Ibusuki, was there?” the dying man inquired, looking into her eyes knowingly.
“...No,” the assassiness replied, hesitating for only a moment.
“...I could have saved you,” was all that Shirou said, reaching up to cup her cheek once again with whatever strength was left in his limbs.
That was all that Takami could take as a tear managed to escape past the cage of her lashes, streaking down the gentle curve of her face and leaving a wet trail on her otherwise flawless cheek. Tenderly he brushed away the tear, smiling down at her as if to tell her that everything was going to be fine. And she would have believed him in all his glorious purity had he not fallen forward helplessly from weakened strength, coughing up blood and gasping for the breath that she stole from him. She struggled to remember what to do, conscious of the fact that she still held on to him close from the kiss they shared. Wanting nothing more than to get as far away from the dying man as she could, Takami pushed the seemingly lifeless Shirou up in hopes that he would stand on his own.
The blade slid out smoothly as he fell back into the fresh blanket of snow, landing with a grunt at the pain he received upon impact. The girl stood there staring at the motionless body for a moment, focused on his empty eyes staring up at the stars appearing in the sky and feeling endless emotions breezing through her limbs. Finally registering what she had done, Takami quickly dropped the dripping dagger in her hand and fled the scene. And as her shadowed figure disappeared into the lights of town a simple parchment floated to the ground behind her, inscribed with the words that had decided both their fates:
Loyalty, above all else, ensures trust and honor. Doubters can only harbor the seeds of betrayal. You must always protect the integrity of the clan.
-x-x-x-
AN: If you want I'll post the peer reviews I got for this piece. But just so you know, I might have future plans for this. -gears in mind turn ingeniusly-
Type: Original
Character(s): Ishida Takami, Ishida Yamaki, Kido Hikari, Hida Shirou, Hida Masaki
Warning(s): Blood and brief mentions of gore. Also, it's really long; about 8 pages single spaced. So I suggest reading this when you have the time.
Notes: A story written for my Creative Writing class Winter semester of 2006. It was originally a fanfic, but I re-worked it and made it into an original piece. I wonder if I can manage to do so with my other fanfics.
A chill wind blew with the first icy frost of the season as Takami stared out the window of the dimly lit restaurant. The burgundy colored leather texture of the seats in the booth squeaked softly with her movements as the young girl shifted to get more comfortable in her creamy mocha dress. The amorous atmosphere surrounding her did nothing but sicken the young lady, rotting up the air with the flowery scent of romance. Absentmindedly, she eyed the light blanket of snow outside that had fallen the night before, covering a multitude of rainbowed leaves that symbolized the changing of the seasons. A tiny part of her wished that she could indulge in her child-like urge to go outside and play in the white, fluffy substance just for a moment like she used to do so many years ago. But Takami soon pushed away such immature thoughts, quick to remind her self that those days were long gone and should be forgotten. No good came from dwelling in the past; it was fixed and unchangeable much like the dark void of space. All that mattered was now…which brought her back to her current problem.
“I am going to kill Yamaki for answering that ad in the newspaper,” Takami mumbled to herself, the small wrinkles at the corners of her mouth marring her otherwise passive face, “And nothing he or Hikari says will stop me.”
Taking a pause from her fuming thoughts, her sparkling hazel eyes darted to the finely crafted knife glinting in the twilight of the room. Admiring how it had been delicately placed next to her porcelain plate, she resisted the urge to fiddle with the razor-sharp edges of the utensil, a nervous habit she had developed over time that usually calmed her. From a very early age, any form of weaponry had always played a prominent role in Takami Ishida’s life. They were her escape from the cruelties of the outside world, shielding her childish innocence while she took comfort in their cold and paper-thin edges. It was certainly a quality that one would not expect from a girl who had been raised in the small town of Otsu, located only a few miles east of the elegant city of Kyoto, Japan which was primarily known for its artistic and traditional attributes. But Takami made it clear that she cared little for the social order and policies of the two when she became the top-ranking weapon specialist in the region. After all, it was a necessary skill to have in her line of work.
“Are you ready to order, miss?” the waiter asked politely, presenting the usual glowing smile you would expect at any fancy restaurant.
“Not yet,” Takami replied politely, returning the generic smile, “I’m still waiting for my date to arrive.”
With a quick and curt nod, the waiter was gone once more, growling his frustration when he thought she was too far away to hear, finding herself alone again, Takami quietly picked up the glass of sake that she had been carefully nursing for the past hour, making sure not to overdo the drinking before her blind date arrived. Images of her brother Yamaki and his longtime girlfriend Hikari Kido watched her intently within the confines of the reflective surface of the liquid. They had insisted on coming along to insure that her date was a perfect gentleman. Casually, her free hand moved to rest on the small dagger strapped to her thigh, hidden under layers of loose fabric, standing as a welcoming comfort to her own meticulous mind.
A soft ‘ding’ signaled the entrance of more people into her shadowed surroundings. Nervous fingers began drumming along the seam of her dress while a single heart started beating a little faster. Letting out a calming sigh she sipped the fermented juices and welcomed the cool feeling of liquid nirvana flowing smoothly down her throat. Closing her eyes to the outside world, Takami waited for the sake to slowly erase the weariness and anxiety creeping over her stressed limbs. Glancing over the slim curve of her shoulder she watched with disdain as Yamaki waved at her from his seat a few tables away with a little too much enthusiasm for a young man of his age and station, causing the meek Hikari to blush at all the attention he was creating. Clenching her teeth past the initial embarrassment and lingering anger, Takami forced out a smile before politely waving back to him in a less excited manner.
I don‘t have time for this, she thought in annoyance, briefly brushing her thin fingers through the ivory petals of the rose pinned in her dark tresses, I should be training, not waiting here for some guy to show up.
At the young age of twelve when the purity of children was on the brink of waking into the tainted world of adulthood, Takami was introduced to the secret and dark underworld that existed within the social circles among the Japanese providences as well as the on-going feud between these powerful clans. Only eighteen at the time Yamaki had brought her into the Hiroyuki social circle when he was made a member. With the “mysterious” deaths of their parents, the adolescent boy was left with few alternatives concerning his little sister. Neither had a living relative to rely on and placing her into foster care was not an option. He refused to risk losing her within the poorly maintained government system.
Takami was quickly placed into the Otsu training program with all the other potentials. As all other clan members under the order of the family patriarch, Kai Hiroyuki, her schedule had been strict; more so because she viewed herself as an outcast and constantly felt the need to prove herself to the others. She was not chosen but allowed to join as a packaged deal in taking Yamaki. Her mornings were reserved for schoolwork and studies while evenings consisted of learning various tricks of the trade, ranging from combat tactics to reconnaissance. And without the usual distractions Takami immersed herself into training; living it, breathing it, and excelling with the natural talent that came so easily for nine years of her life. Now at the ripe age of twenty-one where her potential was at its peak, Takami was considered one of the clan’s best spy and assassin that had ever been produced in the region. And it was that kind of devoted dedication that concerned Yamaki.
“Hey there, kiddo,” said person greeted cheerfully, “How’re you doing?”
“I‘m sitting here waiting for a guy you set me up with to show,” the younger replied cynically, “How do you think I’m doing?”
“This was for your own good,” the elder stated with conviction.
“Picking out some random guy from the village personal ads was for my own good?” she countered in an eerily calm tone, one of her thin brows raising at the question.
Yakami had been so proud and confident when he had told her the “good news”. She would have laughed at how his chest seemed to swell out boastfully when he told her about the blind date he orchestrated behind her back had she not been completely furious at him for doing so. Oblivious to the murderous aura surrounding his sister, Yamaki had waved the clipped ad around like a prized trophy. It was such a rare sight to see from the usually self-conscious young man that Takami almost felt sorry for giving him a black eye...almost.
“It wasn’t some random guy,” Yamaki corrected defensively, sporting a dark bruise around his left eye, “I picked the one I thought you‘d like.”
“But I didn’t ask you to,” she sighed, gently setting down the wine glass on the table, “I don‘t have the time or patience to deal with this kind of thing.”
“That’s exactly my point,” her brother retorted softly, “You’re getting too involved in your work.”
“Is your loyalty to the clan wavering?” the young woman questioned suddenly, lowering her voice so that no one else could hear, “Is that what it is?”
“No, of course not!” Yamaki quickly replied in the same manner, “I know what Kai does to doubters.”
“Then what is it?” she asked in annoyance, confused by his actions.
“…I’m just worried about you,” the elder Ishida admitted with a sigh, “This wasn’t exactly the way mom and dad wanted you to grow up.”
“You did the best you could and that’s all they could ask for,” came her automatic response, turning her attention to the window once more, “I’m fine Yamaki; the clan is all that I need.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Yamaki muttered under his breath.
Sighing wearily in defeat, the elder Ishida sibling stood up and made his trek back to where Hikari had been patiently waiting for him at their table. Takami watched him leave out the corner of her well-trained eye, ignoring the painful constricting feeling within the dark caverns of her chest. She understood that her brother’s concern was merely a result of the guilt he felt for not being able to provide after with a normal life after they lost their parents. But she also knew that anything he attempted now or planned to do in the future would not change what had already occurred. Their parents were gone and the two of them agents for the Hiroyuki. That was how the world worked for them now and would remain so until old age or death stopped it.
The sooner he realizes that, the sooner he can start ignoring the guilt as well, she thought bitterly, There’s no room in life for regrets.
Outside, the bare tree branches swayed gently in the wind as the temperature made a slow descent down to better accommodate the coming winter. Birds littered the ground and sky as they prepared for their annual migration towards warmer climates, leaving the adaptable humans behind in their wake. As she watched the black dots in the sky disappear to a better paradise, Takami took note with great scorn of the growing number of people wandering around the paved streets. She cringed at the more frequent ‘ding’ of the bell, signaling a rush of customers entering for their evening meals. Irritated by all the couples unnecessarily huddled together for warmth as they strolled down the road, she turned away form the window. Lifting the glass of wine for a quick sip, she paused when the image of Yamaki and Hikari appeared in the alcoholic drink once more. Yamaki seemed to have forgotten all about his concerns for young Takami, his full attention being focused on Hikari as they laughed at some private joke. At the sight of their seemingly perfect bliss a small ache pricked in her heart, causing Takami to slam down the glass with a little more force thatn she had intended. A little bit of sake splashed onto the white tablecloth, slowly spreading out like blood on cold marbled flooring.
Maybe I have been working too hard, Takami pondered tiredly.
“I don’t believe this,” a distantly familiar voice said, pulling Takami from her thoughts.
She was startled at first with the sudden intrusion, taking a quick moment to reorient herself with reality. Lifting her head towards the voice, Takami was greeted with the familiar image of Shirou Hida, a fellow member and agent of the Hiroyuki clan, clothed in relatively dressy-casual attire visible under his dark trench coat. He was a handsome young man, to be sure, especially with the way he carried himself. But what caught her attention was the silver rose pin on the collar of his shirt, glowing beautifully in the evening light. Much like the white rose Takami wore in her hair, the rose pin was a trinket her date was suppose to be wearing so that she would be able to recognize him.
“Shirou?” Takami called out in disbelief, “You’re my blind date?”
Poking at her food with the end of her chopsticks, Takami glanced up from her plate to stare at her unexpected date, only to find him staring back. A mysterious young man to be sure, Shirou was one of the few specialty agents within the clan, knowledgeable in the various poisons and their antidotes as well as possessing great skill with the katana blade. But much like Takami, he had remained separate and reclusive from the others. Even now as their eyes met for a brief moment, they simply smiled politely at each other before diverting their attention to more mundane things. For what seemed like the millionth time since Shirou’s arrival, Takami’s eyes wandered towards the back of the restaurant where Masaki Hida sat in the shadows watching them much like her brother was most likely doing. Her brows furrowed at the thought, both annoyed and embarrassed at having tow higher-ranking clan members watching what she considered her first date.
“Pay them no mind,” Shirou commented softly, his deep voice sounding out sweetly amid the soft music playing in the background.
“Easy for you to say,” she mumbled to herself.
“So, I assume that your brother replied to the ad my brother put in the newspaper,” he continued on with a half-hearted laugh, “I have a hard time believing that a respected assassin like you would sign anything ‘Flower of Otsu’.”
“…I am going to kill my brother,” Takami commented, rubbing her forehead in embarrassment.
“Join the club,” Shirou scoffed, “Maybe the two of us could team up against them during training.”
“I’ll agree to that,” the young Ishida joked.
“Ok, then,” the young Hida responded with a smirk, “It’s a date.”
“Getting a little ahead of yourself don’t you think?” she pointed out, “We’re not even done with this one.”
Shirou’s only response was a knowing grin, hinting at some hidden understanding open only to him. Eyeing the slightly older assassin, she made to question his actions only to e immediately cut off by a scream of fright emanating from the other side of the restaurant. Trained to act calmly in most situations, Takami’s senses were on full alert as she stood up from her seat, ready for any complications that might come her way. She took a step towards were all the commotion was centered, only to be stopped by a calm and well-placed hand on her wrist, belonging to none other than Shirou. His grasp was firm yet gentle as he raised a slender finger to his chapped lips, silently asking her to remain quiet before she had a chance to voice her thoughts. Keeping a secure hold on her as he bent to grab his coat, waiting patiently while Takami did the same before quickly pulling her towards the entrance of the restaurant. He stopped for only a brief moment to hand the waiter a folded-up piece of paper, walking out without uttering a single word while a panic broke out all around them.
Once out in the frigid cold, Shirou gave in to the girl’s struggles and promptly let ogo of her delicate wrist. She turned towards the silent man for an explanation, but found none and could only watch with a mix of confusion and irritation as he casually put on his trench coat. Grumbling curses about the whole situation she did the same, pausing in her blasphemous ramblings when said assassin knelt down beside the slightly ajar door. She watched with great curiosity and then astonishment as a thin, rope-like creature slithered out from under the small crack of the door and into the awaiting hands of Shirou.
“And that is how you get out of a blind date,” he commented smugly, giving said creature a small piece of meat as reward before slipping it into his coat pocket.
“You planned this didn‘t you?” Takami asked, doing little to hide the amazement in her voice, “The Yamakagashi was just a distraction so you could make your escape.“
“Of course,” was his simple and even reply.
“And that piece of paper you gave to the waiter?” she questioned further, following after him when he started walking off.
“Just a note saying to bill Masaki for our meal,” Shirou replied matter-of-factly. With a chuckle at the thought, he added, “That should keep him from setting me up on dates for a while.”
“Clever and vengeful,” the young assassiness observed, “Very impressive.”
“Thank you, I try,” he responded humorously.
“Well, I suppose this is the end of our date,” Takami added, “Good day to you, Shirou.”
“Wait,” the young Hida called out, just as she turned to leave, “Just because the dinner’s over doesn’t mean that we can’t enjoy the rest of the evening.”
A little shocked at his proposition, Takami paused a moment before she reacted. “Let me get this straight, you want to continue this torturous experience?”
“It hasn’t been that bad, has it?” he reasoned, “Besides, who can show you a better time than a fellow assassin?”
“I don’t know,” she said skeptically.
“Come on, you can come with me while I take this little guy back to the rice patty where I found him,” Shirou suggested, waving to the snake currently in his pocket, “You’re welcome to leave any time between now and then.”
“And what’s to stop me from leaving now?” was her response, a challenge to his plan.
“A general curiosity plaguing your mind,” Shirou countered effortlessly, “So, what do ou say?’
Biting her bottom lip indecisively, Takami eyed the younger Hida sibling warily while she mentally debated her options. All the while, Shirou stared back at her with complete charm sparkling in his hazel eyes. Alluring and welcoming as they were, she found she could not resist the offer.
“…Fine,” she finally replied, sighing in defeat.
“Great,” was Shirou’s only response, paired with his ever familiar smirk, “Follow me.”
Rolling her eyes at how easily she had given in, Takami could not help but laugh at the irony of the situation.
I guess the Hiroyuki needs to start training us against charm now, she thought sarcastically.
The smile that had managed to work its way on to her face quickly disappeared at the thought of the clan as Takami was reminded of her lat assignment only days before. Her young and innocent appearance had turned out to be a great advantage, easily fooling her target into trusting her. Even as the young girl plunged the edge of her tanto knife into the Kishimoto’s abdomen, he had looked upon her with calm and muted understanding. His young blood had flowed so smooth and freely over her hand, leaving him nothing but a lifeless shell. She could still feel the slippery substance coating her pale fingers.
Absentmindedly, Takami glanced down at her hands, pinked from the lower temperatures. They were clean now, having been cleansed of the offending traces of her work days before when she returned from the mission. But no amount of soap and disinfectant could wash her mind clean of the image etched in her memory. Even now blood would appear on her hands for instances before revealing seconds later that they were spotless. Shivering at the haunting thought, Takami stuffed her chilled hands into the warm confines of her pockets so that she would no longer be plagued with such visions.
“Takami, are you alright?” Shirou inquired, partially concerned but not enough to be fully serious, “Don’t tell me you’re tired of me already.”
“No, I’m fine,” she replied dismissively, “I was just…thinking about things.”
“Good things I hope,” he said optimistically.
“Of course,” she lied.
The two continued walking in peaceful silence down the stone pavement. Occasionally, Takami glanced around warily at her surroundings, taking note of the growing number of people they would come across on the street. Bouts of panic grazed across her mind as they neared the open market, the half-way point to their destination. She was able to calm herself with a few deep breaths, remembering the resistance training she had received at the Hiroyuki disciplinary facility when the sound of metal against wood broke her concentration. She turned towards the soft thud just in time to witness the sharp butcher knife slice through a thick slab of meat, still bleeding and dripping of fat. Reminded of her last victim, she quickly backed away from the appalling image, bumping into various shoppers in the process who were merely there to buy ingredients needed to make their evening meals.
Amid all the noise and confusion building around her from disturbed pedestrians and her own mental state, Takami had lost sight of Shirou. Finding herself a little overwhelmed, the seemingly unstable assassin quickly ducked into a side street, leaning against a nearby building to gather and collect her scattered thoughts. Unconsciously her hand crept up to rest at the base of her neck. It was only then that Takami became fully aware of the rapid beating of her heart against her rib cage. She felt like she was drowning, her breaths quickly becoming shallow and labored. Endless hopelessness filled her every thought as she slid helplessly to the ground, the world around her slowly fading until everything was cast under the shadow of permanent black.
The rough bark of the tree pressed into her back as she leaned against it for support. The sun was finally setting over the horizon, casting long shadows across her vision and giving off a yellow glow to everything in sight. Even the swirling clouds of smoke rolling out of her mouth with every breath sparkled with a yellow aura. Shirou stood nearby leaning against his own tree, looking back at the two gates as the fading rays caressed the gentle curves of his face.
“Are you alright now?” he asked, the deep ring of his voice resounding through the peaceful atmosphere.
“Yeah,” she replied meekly, still a bit unnerved by what had happened, “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Shirou muttered evenly, “I deal with Solo-Gents all the time.”
“Solo-Gent?” she questioned.
“Solitary Agent,” was his simple explanation, “Those that have been isolated for so long that they have great anxiety when around large crowds of people.”
“Oh,” was Takami’s only response, unable to react in any other way.
Glancing in her direction for a moment, Shirou calmly walked down a nearby dirt path leading to a dying rice patty, all the while reaching into his pocket to take out the awaiting Yamakagashi. Kneeling down beside the chilled water, he released the creature and watched quietly as it swam away. Takami stared at the fading ripples glide across the surface of the water, amazed at how such an effortless movement could create such a lasting and profound image.
Like stabbing an innocent young man from a rival clan, she mused emotionlessly.
“Do you ever get tired of it?” Shirou asked suddenly, his tone quiet and solemn, “Of all the death and secrets clouding our lives?”
“Do you?” Takami questioned in reply, stalling until she could come up with hr own answer.
“I don‘t know, maybe,” he mumbled indecisively, “There‘s only so much a person can take before they start to wonder why.”
“It’s for the good of the clan,” Takami commented, remembering those exact words being said to her when she first started working, “That should be reason enough.”
“Is that what you really think?” the young Hida inquired, biting back his growing frustration..
“It‘s what I was taught,” she replied truthfully, “I know nothing else.”
“…Then you’re a fool for believing everything you’re told,” Shirou stated coldly, turning away to end the discussion there.
“What do you have against the Hiroyuki?” the young Ishida questioned, her voice meek and soft despite her defiant act against him.
“Nothing,” was his sarcastic reply, “It’s just their bloody legacy that I have a problem with.”
“This is a war,” she pressed on, “Casualties are to be expected.”
“A war of social politics among snobbish aristocrats is meaningless and only serves to corrupt the young,” Shirou countered, “I mean, look at what it did to you.”
Taken aback by the sudden attack Takami remained silent, biting back any comment that lingered on her lips. His remark had been harsh, snapping at the core of her very soul and leaving a lasting impression on her spirit. Her voice stifled by his statement Shirou could have ended it there and been on his way, leaving her to face whatever demon might arise. But he made no move to leave, choosing simply just to stand there with his eyes fixed on the horizon. And as Takami joined in watching the last rays of sun disappear behind the range of mountains at the edge of their vision, a single snowflake fell on her nose.
The evening bells sounded in the distance, rolling through the miles from the Kyoto temples to ring ominously on the little town of Otsu as they did every morning and night. And as Takami lifted her eyes to the darkened sky, misted with white flakes, a heaviness settled on her heart as Shirou’s words echoed through her mind. So entranced in thought was the Ishida girl that she neglected to notice the small rustle of leaves and soft movement in the nearby woods that would have alerted her of the incoming threat.
Aware of the shuriken flying towards his companion, Shirou rushed to pull her out of harm’s way. Jerked by the collar of her jacket, a dull thud was all that Takami heard before she found herself sprawled out over Shirou, both on the ground after slipping on some ice. Unfazed by their close proximity, she quickly got up to examine the throwing star that was embedded in the trunk of the tree. It was only then that she noticed a parchment attached to the razor sharp edges of the weapon.
“What is it?” Shirou asked as she unraveled the document.
“It looks like a mission scroll,” Takami replied, skimming through the information written, “They have a new assignment for me…in Ibusuki.”
“You better go,” Shirou responded emotionlessly, “I know how the Hiroyuki hate to wait.”
Prepared to follow his instructions, she took a step towards town only to pause afterwards. Not ready to leave just yet, she walked up to the younger Hida instead, looking so small next to his towering height. She could not leave their discussion there, unresolved and unfinished.
“Please reconsider you opinions about the clan,” she pleaded softly, “I understand how you feel about this feud, but we do what we must to survive.”
“We shouldn’t have to,” was Shirou’s whispered response, slowly and gently cupping her cheek.
Unexpectedly he ran his thumb along the soft skin of her cheek, dusted pink with the beginnings of a blush at such an intimate gesture. She let out a shaky breath, nervous of the sight of the handsome young man leaning in closer. Almost instantly she felt her eyes slide close, all her senses focusing on the light pressure against her lips. It was a light kiss; a chaste kiss, making what she had to do all the more difficult. But the opposing views of her personal and professional opinions were one of the first things the Hiroyuki made sure to eliminate during her training. So with little effort, she thrusted the dagger into the vital organs located in his midsection, her passive face never wavering when blood spilled out over the stainless steel and coated her hand. She never flinched as the life-sustaining liquid pooled at their feet to taint the purity of the snow on the ground.
“Why?” Shirou questioned breathlessly, quickly weakening at the loss of blood.
“Because this is the consequence of your doubt,” she answered, automatic and machine-like, “You lost faith in the clan and with it Kai’s trust.”
“...There was no assignment in Ibusuki, was there?” the dying man inquired, looking into her eyes knowingly.
“...No,” the assassiness replied, hesitating for only a moment.
“...I could have saved you,” was all that Shirou said, reaching up to cup her cheek once again with whatever strength was left in his limbs.
That was all that Takami could take as a tear managed to escape past the cage of her lashes, streaking down the gentle curve of her face and leaving a wet trail on her otherwise flawless cheek. Tenderly he brushed away the tear, smiling down at her as if to tell her that everything was going to be fine. And she would have believed him in all his glorious purity had he not fallen forward helplessly from weakened strength, coughing up blood and gasping for the breath that she stole from him. She struggled to remember what to do, conscious of the fact that she still held on to him close from the kiss they shared. Wanting nothing more than to get as far away from the dying man as she could, Takami pushed the seemingly lifeless Shirou up in hopes that he would stand on his own.
The blade slid out smoothly as he fell back into the fresh blanket of snow, landing with a grunt at the pain he received upon impact. The girl stood there staring at the motionless body for a moment, focused on his empty eyes staring up at the stars appearing in the sky and feeling endless emotions breezing through her limbs. Finally registering what she had done, Takami quickly dropped the dripping dagger in her hand and fled the scene. And as her shadowed figure disappeared into the lights of town a simple parchment floated to the ground behind her, inscribed with the words that had decided both their fates:
Loyalty, above all else, ensures trust and honor. Doubters can only harbor the seeds of betrayal. You must always protect the integrity of the clan.
AN: If you want I'll post the peer reviews I got for this piece. But just so you know, I might have future plans for this. -gears in mind turn ingeniusly-