Please be nice. This is a very old story I wrote about a year and a half ago that I decided to publish here. ;
It was after sword practice one night, and Shinko was walking home. Over one shoulder was a bag holding a few of her blades. Some padded swords, a bokken (wooden sword), and her prized metal wakizashi (medium sized samurai sword). She carried them nonchalantly, as if they were all custom made for her alone.
She was walking down a street in the large city that she lived in. Her parents were rarely home and Shinko could seldom get a ride to her dojo about a mile away. It didn't bother her too much, though; she always thought it would be better for her training.
The sky was dark. Sword practice had gone on longer than the young instructor had originally thought.
Dressed in her full dogi (martial arts uniform), which consisted of a dark blue keikogi, the uniform top, and a black hakama, the traditional samurai skirt, she attracted quite a few curious glances. She shrugged them off as she did every night, knowing that the onlooker's ignorance could be forgiven.
Shinko took her normal route, which was about a half hour walk, until she realized that she would not be home in time to finish her schoolwork and get in extra sword practice.
Then, an alley caught her eye. It was a direct shortcut to her home. With a quick glance to see if anyone was around or in the alleyway, Shinko began to walk down the path that would lead to her home. It would be a normal night, she believed.
Or so she thought.
Another form caught her eye as she passed, one that had not been there a moment before. It was a dark silhouette of a person, a male, upon closer inspection. Shinko did not halt, even when the figure spoke.
"I haven't seen you around here before. Are you new to the neighborhood?" the male asked in a taunting, malicious voice.
Shinko was known for her silence unless her voice was absolutely needed, and this instance did not apply, she reasoned. The American samurai kept walking.
"How rude, I believe I asked you a question. It would be wise to answer it, or at least acknowledge that I'm speaking to you by bowing your head, you little bitch!" the man yelled.
Still keeping silent, Shinko turned around slowly to face the bother.
He wants to pick a fight with me? Shinko thought, Does it look like I can't defend myself?
The man smirked. It revealed a tooth that seemed like a fang.
"There we go, now..." he began, but the samurai wasn't listening.
He filed down his teeth? Quite unusual. she thought.
Feeling uncomfortable, Shinko began to reach into her sword bag to find her wakizashi. She never finished the motion.
Faster than what her eyes could track, the man grabbed her and slammed her against the alley wall, with his right hand holding Shinko's wrist and his left clamped tightly about her throat.
The impact made Shinko gasp in pain, and wince against the vice grip on her neck. Now she was in this man's mercy.
"You should listen to your superiors when they're talking to you." The stranger suggested. His flesh was cold, as if there was no life left in his body, which made Shinko shiver slightly. The touch was a shock to her now quickly heating up skin. She could feel the man's breath on her face, and, like his skin, it was cold, and smelled of death and blood.
She could also see the man's features, being so close. He had rich red hair, and truly dark blue eyes. They would seem black from a distance, Shinko guessed, but seeing them from inches away showed a different color.
A small amount of fear filled her, and the man seemed to feed of the terror, and smirked again.
"I was told to spare your life, but you look too delicious to resist." He whispered in her ear, and Shinko shivered slightly once more.
He opened his mouth wide to reveal a matching fang to the first. His hand slid up Shinko's neck to reveal a place to bite. Knowing that it would be do or die, Shinko lifted her right hand, which the foolish male had forgotten to pin down, and jammed her first two fingers into his left eye. Then, she wrenched her fingers out, trying to pull the eyeball out with it, but unfortunately failing.
The man yelled in pain and clutched his now blinded eye, and that gave Shinko the opportunity she needed to yank her metal blade from her sword bag.
She tore the sheath off the sword and threw it to the ground. Before the man could react, she impaled the male with her wakizashi through the stomach.
He spat blood and gasped for air, with some of the red liquid landing on Shinko. Her body moved on its own, and she did not realize what she did until the body of her attacker slumped slightly and the blood from his torso spilled onto her hands.
As if waking from a dream, Shinko's arms started to tremble violently and her eyes became moist.
What did I do?! she thought frantically, I killed him! No! I'm not allowed to kill!
In response to this pause, the man somehow grabbed the front of her dogi, defying death. His body lurched toward the samurai, and she lifted her left hand to block as best she could. The fangs of her attacker dug into her forearm, and Shinko cried in pain. There was no fabric to soften the blow, since the keikogi's sleeves stopped at the elbow. She could feel the man smirk in victory.
Shinko rapidly pulled the sword from his stomach, which caused his body to spasm, release her arm to cough up more blood, and fall limp. Without anything to support him, he fell to the ground. As quickly as her body would allow, Shinko snatched her sheath to her wakizashi, not bothering to grab the rest of her swords and made a dash towards her home.
A hand grabbing at her ankle stopped her.
Lying in a pool of his own blood, blind in one eye, and still not dead somehow, the man tried to stop the samurai from running. He cursed at her in another language and tried to pull her to the ground. Shinko kicked at his face, which made him release her, and ran to her home, not daring to look back and not slowing her pace for an instant.