Chapter One
Amaya Yamauchi
Location: Black Swamp Of Maki Village
Sunlight peers in through the window, streaking the vinillia capet with a sandy gold tint. A soft moan escapes the lips of a overheated kunoichi. Lazily she drapes an arm over her forehead, complaining under her breath about the untolerable heat.
The thought opening the window would have at least provided a little bit of cold air but summer had other objectives. It's first one being, giving her a taste of what to expect after death. Since she sure as hell she isn't going to hevan. That is, not after the profession she decided on.
Sweat trickles down the side of her face, sending a rather ticklish sensation up her skin. She brushs the droplets off with the back of her hand.
Summer in the swamp is by far the worst possible thing in the world. Not only is it hot, but the air is just so mucky, that it's damn near impossible to breath. She exhales hot air from her lungs. she licks her dry, cracked lips in an attempt to bring moisture back to them.
Finding no change in her condition she rolls out of bed, immdiatly regreating it. Heat on top of hangover makes a very bad combination. Her head pulses to the beat of her heart, giving her a killer headache. She places a hand to her throbing temple, hoping to sooth it.
With uncoordinated steps she staggers free from her bed room and into the living room instead. Her house is small, but it's comfortable. Provided with one decent sized bed room, a charming little bathroom, a fully equipt kitchen and a very spacious living room. However, the selling point wasn't the inside it was the outside. The deck, to be more spacific. It was built right over the swamp, allowing her to a lovely view and in the summer times a place to jump off and swim from.
Of course living on a swamp came with it's usual threats. Things such as Alligators, Water snakes, and theves where common around these parts. Those are the very reasons why she doesn't swim in the river anymore. Ever since last year when an alligator slid off the bank and came drifting through the current right toward her, she's dreaded the swamp.
She walks over to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a carton of milk. Flicking off the top, she presses her lips against the opening, gulping down two mouth fulls before lowering the carton and droping her head. Few pale droplets soak into the front of her shirt, refreshing her skin with it's icy feel. She delicatly swips a thumb across her bottom lip, whiping the milk's imprint off her skin. She then places the milk back into the fridge.
With cat-like footsteps she walks back into the living room, ploping down on the couch. She kicks her fet up on the coffee table, knocking a couple scrolls to the floor. As they clatter to the ground, one unravels. Curiousity brings her gaze toward the unfolded scroll.
Written in keji is a simple message.
Speak to informant in the Land of Waves.
A mission.
She must have neglected it or at the very least forgotten about it last night when she came home from the bar. Dispite her yough the bartender was a rather chill guy. He watched over her like an older brother would and protected her from any wondering eyes. In return she gave him her attention and company. They could talk for hours, going on and on about the places they've seen or in Makoto's case the people he's talked to. Since pour Makoto never leaves the bar it's almost impossible for him to go off and sigh see. In fact, The furthest he's been is Hida; And that's really not saying much since it's only two hundred miles south of Maki. It's sad really, with Makoto's yough he should be off seeing all there is.
She shakes her head, dismissing the disappointing thoughts. Standing, she reaches forward, plucking the scroll off the ground. It's a simple mission, but at least it would get her out of the heat for a few days.
She renters her room, grabbing the Titanium trimed backpack from the end of her bed. Quickly she throws together all the nessisary tools and clothes she'll need for her travels, stuffing them into her pack. She turns toward her dresser, reaching out to close the draws behind her. That's when her gaze flickers to the objects orginized neatly on top of her dresser. A row of picture frames. Each picture she'd tried to forget over the years, letting them collect dust.
But just this once, she reaches out to one, wraping it in her hand. Slowly she strokes her thumb over the dust-covered glass. immediatly a smiling face stares through the frame. His gold eyes shine with happiness and his goofy smile is ment just for her. She hadley even recignized the childish face of her older brother.
A flicker of fire crosses her mind follwed by the flashback of screams echoing in the background of her thoughts. She remembered being so little at that time. Her small arms reaching out for something, for someone. "AMAYA!" his scream brings her jolting back to reality. The picture frame slips from her hand, shattering against the floorboards.
Instinctivly her hand clasps around the edge of her dresser. She supports her weight against it, breathing heavily. It has been so long since she's thought back to that dreadful day. It wasn't a memory she wanted to remeber, that's why she'd shoved it to the back of her mind all these years. Tears burn behind her eyes and she lowers her head. It was a mistake to have touched that damn picture.
She rips her back pack from off the end of her bed, jerking it onto her shoulders. Quickly she marches out of her room, leaving the picture where it lies.