Crouching Malice
Malice
1. A desire to harm others or to see others suffer; extreme ill will or spite.
2. Law The intent, without just cause or reason, to commit a wrongful act that will result in harm to another.
Aspiring:
Night time roamed over Kuromokuzai, the black sky speckled with many bright stars and the promising glow of a full moon, not a single cloud in sight.
Kuromokuzai was a quiet, picturesque village in southern Japan, overlapped on three sides by the deep forest that provided the village its name and the remaining side dominated by the ocean blue waters of Koubutsu Lake.
Towering over its opposite shore stood the dormant volcano Akki, presenting the village with a stunning view of its iconic, snow capped peak that always shimmered reflectively in the lake itself.
The village was awash with traditional values, many buildings appeared oriental in structure, some carved with the markings of dragons, some even trimmed in a rich golden finish, and all blessed with symbols of typical Japanese writing. Most structures were no more than two stories tall and often spaced out from one another with the only exception being the village's church, its recently restored but old bell tower reaching at least six stories in height.
Kuromokuzai did not allow vehicles inside its area to preserve its tradition with any cars left parked at the other side of the lake and tourists ferried across by boat along with returning inhabitants alike.
Rustling through the nearby woodlands trawled an aspiring young ninja clad in black ninja garments over his entire body, only his green eyes showing from the mask.
Clutched in his gloved hand was a katana like sword, the handle decked in pure gold. Its blade, lethally sharp was stained a deep shade of crimson that dripped slowly from its edge. More pockmarked his ninja garments, making it obvious that he had recently made a fresh kill from the shadows.
His name, Yutaka Keiji, a part of a clan known as Golden Dragon who's headquarters was based in Kuromokuzai.
An expert assassin in stealth and combat situations, he enjoyed being an integral, well respected member of his clan run by his father, Itachi.
The lush trees of the forest finally came to an end, replaced with a view of the imposing Akki, towering over the barely illuminated village buildings, making them look like silhouettes in a painting. The moon shone brightly above, with Yutaka having used it as a beacon to guide him to his destination like a boat drawn to a lighthouse on a turbulent night.
He then trudged on towards Kuromokuzai with twigs and fallen leaves crunching underfoot of his almost silent footsteps. He looked forward to downing a refreshing hot drink for another job well done and to receive much welcome praise from his father.
Now surrounded by the traditional buildings of the village, he began to relax, though he remained vigilant, knowing that he could be jumped at any time and anywhere, having had it happen to him on many previous occasions.
He watched the empty streets for any signs of life as most of the lights within the buildings were turned off, giving him an inkling of the time he roamed the streets in.
Just as Yutaka had begun to gain a more confident spring in his step however, he was surprised when an empty glass milk bottle rolled across the tarmac street surface before him, it being particularly eye-catching with the shining reflection of the street's lampposts. He breathed a sigh of relief in his knowledge that that was all it was as the milk bottle collided with a stubborn wall.
Yutaka continued onwards through the dimly lit street, a lamppost nearby flickering sporadically which was something he noted, but the moment he looked away the bulb dimmed permanently and shattered into sharp fragments. The fragments hit the ground with the sound of startling glass, but the whole scenario surprised the young ninja whom only increased his guard in the process. He said nothing however as he finally reached the headquarters for the Golden Dragon clan, a grand two storey building emblazoned proudly with a pair of large pure gold dragons above the detailed entrance into the building.
At the entrance, a pair of moderate scale dragon statues stood beside a small but wide staircase that led directly into the building, with the intricately detailed statues appearing to stand guard like nightclub bouncers.
After looking back at the silent village of Kuromokuzai once more before assuring himself contently, he finally made his way up the staircase while ascending each step slowly and quietly. He made his way inside through plush, modern double doors, immediately passing by a crowd of ninjas watching a comrade practice. That comrade was Yutaka's rival, a man named Takahashi Ito and a man that Yutaka held a particular dislike for due to Takahashi's attitude towards those around him as well as his ego-centric personality.
"Outta my fucking way..." Takahashi demanded cruelly at the intrigued gathered crowd, forcing his way through a few of them and knocking at least two to the ground in the process, causing them to glare with a scowl at their brash compatriot as they groggily scooped themselves up and dusted themselves off.
Yutaka watched with passing interest as Takahashi stormed around one corner of the well illuminated corridor and grumbling incoherently to himself the entire way.
"What a cunt..." The young ninja muttered to himself, though he was frowned upon by a few others whom had overheard him. Petty squabbles were forged between a number of the remaining, boisterous crowd while Yutaka spat his unfeeling jibe, tinted clearly with the flush of a typical Japanese accent.
The squabbles continued on as Yutaka left them behind, spotting a sign on the wall pointing him in the direction to the office of Itachi Keiji, his father. Turning right, he lurched into a brisk walk beneath the blinding lights as he placed the orientally designed crimson sheath over the bloodstained Sword of the Dragon, the sheath itself decked vertically vertically with a golden touch of scrawls. These scrawls spelled out Yutaka's name in simple Japanese kanji and like the sword itself, was an expensive gift lavished on him by his father three years ago.
He approached the door in front of him, marking the end of the corridor. On the blackened door adorned the name Itachi Keiji in both English and Japanese kanji, once again trimmed with a rich golden finish. Yutaka then tapped the knuckle of his index finger twice on the door to gain the attention of his father from within.
"Enter..." Came a deep, muffled voice from behind the door. Yutaka obeyed and slowly pushed it open to his right. Inside, sat at his pine wood desk, was his father. A Japanese man in his late fortys and about six feet and two inches in height, succeeding Yutaka's own by a couple of inches, Itachi wore a smart blackened tuxedo with a red, uncreased tie and a white shirt underneath. Black trousers with a brown leather belt tightening the waistline and blackened leather slip on shoes completed Itachi's smart appearance as he twisted a rack of soup drenched noodles around his chop sticks, placing them in his mouth and chewing them thoroughly.
The room around them both was, typically, very well lit with a large, bushy green plant flanking one corner and stone, carved dragon statues making themselves home in the other three. A modern, black wooden bookcase crammed with many books of fiction and non fiction spanned the length of one wall over the smooth, cream coloured carpet that covered the room entirely.
After swallowing the portion of well chomped noodles in his mouth, the skinhead cut topped head of Itachi turned and his large blue eyes picked out Yutaka's own green ones.
"So, is your target terminated?" He asked drily, although he had no doubts in his son's already expert stealth and combat abilities as a ninja.
As expected, Yutaka nodded and swung forth his dark, plain rucksack and unzipped the opening. His gloved hand then reached inside and the ominous bulge of the bag relapsed as, in Yutaka's hand dangled the severed head of his slain target gripped by a handful of the target's short, jet black hair. The head's blood spattered face wore a wide eyed expression of shock as dried flesh and tissue hung from its cauterised stump that was once attached to an entire body.
"He is slain, father..." Yutaka finally mumbled, stating the obvious. Itachi nodded and with a smile, nudged forth a second bowl of noodles, its capacity identical to his own.
"You have done well, Yutaka..." Itachi praised before he went on.
"...You must eat now and we can discuss your next assignment."
Yutaka nodded obediently as he placed the severed head upright on the table and lowered the mask of his ninja garments from the lower portion of his face. Then, he took up the bowl of noodles with his still gloved hands and with the other, scooped up the Japanese kanji tainted chopsticks.
Ravelling an assortment of wanton soup coated noodles around said chopsticks, Yutaka looked up at his father almost expectantly of him to speak up again.
His father looked him back and nodded.
"OK...one of our own has been missing for a few days now and reports suggest that he was taken to a camp beyond the otherside of the woodlands. I want you to seek him out and find him...dead or alive and take out the whole fucking camp as well. You are blessed, Yutaka...of that we can be sure...and you are the most trusted with the delicacy of such an assignment..." Itachi explained in detail and watched as his son chewed and consumed a mouthful of noodles.
"Is this an overnight mission?" Yutaka asked once his mouth was freed of food.
"I'm afraid so...equipment to set up camp is behind you..." His father sighed in an almost regretful tone and nodded towards a large rucksack filled with equipment to erect a tent and light a fire.
Yutaka nodded positively and remained upbeat and optimistic regardless as he finally gulped down his last mouthful of noodles a few minutes later.
"With that in mind...I must go now..." Yutaka announced calmly and placed his own backpack within the larger rucksack and hoisted it upon his back with a light grunt. He then placed the empty bowl he had eaten from on his father's desk beside the decapitated head and bowed respectfully. Itachi nodded in approval in a similar vain as he watched his ambitious, aspiring son see himself out of his office.
Yutaka re-placed the mask over his lower face as he passed through the door. However, he made a note of this sudden and drastic change, this strange phenomenon. The gathered ninjas congregated in the mid-length corridor appeared tense and nervous, pausing any bodily movements as if time itself had frozen to a complete and utter stand still. Above them all, they and Yutaka looked up to discover the ceiling lights were all flickering in irregular patterns. This had become a continuous event, marred further once one bulb gave up the ghost, shattering violently and causing a shower of sparks to rain down on the cowering ninjas and the carpeted floor below.
Yutaka reeled back near to a wall in surprise while a sudden rush of cold air passed through all occupying the corridor...though no door or window opened anywhere in the vicinity.
The gathering of ninjas squirmed uncomfortably, becoming more freaked out by the whole turn of events.
"What the fuck is going on?" One moaned as the lights on the ceiling finally shut off one by one, entangling the corridor's inhabitants in the bowels of darkness.
Outside, the lampposts illuminating the streets did likewise, plunging the entire village into a foreboding inky blackness. The ninjas began huddling together having decided against any chances. Now all looking through the large window panes in the entrance doors, their eyes all locked onto a silhouette figure of child sized proportions slowly drift past the doors on the outside. Notable features of the figure could not be picked out due to the darkness around them all, causing the already frightened ninjas to reel back in their biggest shock of all.
They gasped for a fresh breath, but the lighting in the building stubbornly refused to turn back on and the same remained in the case of the streets outside. The ninjas cowered still, but Yutaka stood adamant like a statue having observed the entire scene and significantly less disturbed by the turn of events than the others. This caused one to look up at him rather oddly.
"Yutaka what the fuck is with you, man?"
The tone of his voice was panicked and rushed, his eyes suggesting so as Yutaka's eyes reflected his glare with his own.
"I need to see for myself what is really going on..." Yutaka replied calmly in contrast as he slowly drew the Sword of the Dragon from its sheath with the traditional 'twang' like sound of a drawn blade making itself known. He then forced his way through the forest of almost identically dressed ninjas and placed his gloved hand against one of the double doors and softly pushed it open slightly, enough for him to squeeze through. Outside, the pure quiescence felt uneasy, more so than usual for a rolling mist was slowly falling over the village and granting it an unusual sense of mystique in the process.
Yutaka surveyed the streets carefully before making a move but as he did, he almost jolted as he heard the clammering fists of his fellow ninjas slamming against the glass on the doors behind him for whatever reason...or so he thought, for he heard the lock catch engage and realised the others had decided on shutting themselves in.
The less afraid young ninja glanced back at them in pity and with a shake of the head.
"Cowards. They must learn that darkness is their friend and not their enemy..."
He muttered under his breath before turning his head to look forth again, but as he did his own shock heightened the sense of tension within him.
The child sized figure was back, standing a few feet away from him. Unlike last time a handful of select details could be picked out, such as long and unkempt jet black hair of at least waist length. This covered the figure's entire face and the majority of an otherwise blood spattered royal blue dress. This alone forged a deduction that the figure was that of a young girl.
She was gone once Yutaka had blinked however. A split second was all it took...