/ strike one /

I angle the wide brim of my straw hat downwards, shadowing my face as I stride past the townspeople and the occasional soldier. I tense at the sound of my clinking weapons, tightening my cloak around me.

This is why I hate going into town: I am always on guard, prepared to hide at a moment's notice. Unfortunately, certain supplies that cannot be foraged in the wild are necessary for my survival.

As I pass by a flower vendor, the man calls out jovially, "Hey, young man! How 'bout some flowers for your lady?"

Pitching my voice lower, I politely decline, "No, thank you. I do not have a lady." I bow slightly, making sure not to meet his eyes, and hurry away. I faintly hear the man cursing me out behind me.

Tired already of social interaction, I prepare to leave town when an odd group of hooded travelers catch my eye. There are seven of them in total: four tall and broad, two small and dainty, one small and very energetic...and—is that a squirrel?

They seem to be traveling in the same direction as me, so I decide to follow them for a while. Perhaps I can use them as cover on the road, in case there are bandits or soldiers.

Though they draw the attention of almost every passerby, they seem entirely absorbed in each other, arguing and laughing. They are rowdy but clearly very close; it induces a dull ache in my chest, an urge for companionship I have not felt since I left home.

Most of them browse the streets while one of the smaller figures—a beautiful boy, I realize, when he pushes back his hood—haggles for food and other necessities. I catch a brief glimpse of one of the taller travelers: a young man, maybe around my age, with dark hair and what appears to be a wrapped glaive. No doubt he is a warrior, and certainly one I would rather not meet in battle. He sticks close to another of the smaller travelers—a girl, I guess, from her movements, though I am unable to confirm my suspicions.

I watch them for nearly an hour before they finally regroup and set off in just the direction I intend to go, so I trail behind them by several paces, keeping my gait leisurely and unthreatening, though still silent. As soon as we hit foliage, I slip into the bushes and behind trees, tracking them more with my ears than my eyes.

The sun slips down the sky as we walk. Sometimes, when I stray closer, I can hear laughter and conversations. Listening to them makes me sad and envious, emotions I loathe, so I tend to keep more distance. Luckily for me, their steps are loud enough for me to follow. I fall into a mindless trance.

Suddenly, silence hits me. The rustling sounds of nature are all around, but the sounds of people are gone. When had they stopped? How did I let myself become so distracted?

I veer towards the dirt road, where the trees are less dense. The sun is setting and the skies are orange and the breeze grows chilly; a prickle trips down my spine and I spin around, yanking my shuanggou from my hip as I move.

"Found you."

My eyes widen. I have barely a second to process the sight of the tall, dark-haired man before his glaive swings down too fast for my eyes to see, but my shuanggou are already up and crossed, clanging loudly at the harsh hit.

Heavy, I think, gritting my teeth and bearing down into the balls of my feet. He is too strong for me. If even one more of them has this strength...

I glance at the other hooded figures that have appeared behind my attacker. The three other tall ones give off strange, powerful auras, and I foresee my defeat.

I must escape.

He pulls back and swings, his blade whistling sharply over my head as I duck, but unexpectedly he swings back around, too fast for me to evade properly. Cursing my slow reflexes, I drop down, one knee to the ground, just barely quick enough to avoid losing my head, but not my hat.

He slices through my hat and releases my hair from its prison. It tumbles down in a long tangle, distorting my vision; I curse myself to hell for allowing my rare vanity to overpower my common sense in the past months. I'm ashamed of myself.

A collective gasp. "A girl!" one of them exclaims.

I am a woman, thank you very much, I think sarcastically.

Clutching my shuanggou tight enough to whiten my knuckles, I take advantage of their momentary surprise to leap backwards, landing on my hands and then flipping over to my feet, creating some much needed distance. Unfortunately, my loose hair feels awkward and throws off my balance, forcing me to my knees.

The girl—I was right, I think distantly—reaches out an arm and cries, "Wait—"

The others hold her back.

I'm quick to slip away before they decide whether or not to pursue me.

notes: hello hello! my first fic for this fandom, woo so exciting! yes, it's an oc fic. moreover, it's (probably gonna be) a hak/oc fic. fair warning, so leave now if this isn't your cup of tea!

strangely, i don't particularly like yona. i appreciate her impressive character development but...idk. she's just not my favorite, and i feel like hak deserves—more. in any case, i really enjoy creating ocs (i put a loooooot of effort into this one) and i love me some hak, and this idea just would not leave my head, so here it is!

the storyline will mostly follow the manga from water tribe/nadai shenanigans onward; i've just inserted my oc into canon lol. please give her a chance! also, i've kinda added a lot of chinese elements to xing and the xingese (idk if this is at all how canon will be but bear with it for this story).

i'll write when i can, but no promises on update speed, sorry! i'm in school and approaching finals, so i'm quite busy.

disclaimer: i do not own akatsuki no yona or anything else you may recognize.

© Copyright 2017 by The Siege