Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, and do not profit from it in any way.
All rights belong to Yoshihiro Togashi.
No copyright infringement intended.
A/N: (Second posting of this chapter, with some minor editing and a better summary.)
The chapters will take longer for this story, because I really want to take my time with it. It's rather experimental, I suppose, but I do love it. :)
The categories are: Adventure, Romance, Humor, Drama, and Friendship.
Enjoy!
Reflection
May 1st:
The town of Mikils, was the first major check point for farmers and merchants travelling to the city of Amatricks, the largest city on the east side of the Yorbian continent.
The reason probably being that it was the size of a city itself. The town council had tried numerous times to change it's title, but the citizens were content with it staying a town. So it did.
It was early morning, and the newly risen sun called people out for the day.
The town bustled with noise and movement, as merchants set up their stalls for the morning market.
Mikils was better known as 'Market City' for a reason after all. It had a Morning Market, a Noon Market, an Afternoon Market, an Evening Market, a Night Market, and an In-between Market. The In-between Market unofficially running all the time.
Despite it's size, everybody somehow knew everyone, and if you didn't, there was no way you were native to the town.
Though their definition of 'everyone' was perhaps a bit off.
'Everyone' were the merchants, the farmers, the shop keepers, the old folk living down the street.
And then there was 'everyone else.'
Those who weren't really in the same category as towns people, never mind that they might live there too.
They were the comers and goers, the professors at the collage, the police force, the artists, the tourists, the new librarian, the family that just moved in three lanes over, the thugs, the pickpockets, the club owners, the 'bad people.'
They were a part of Mikils too, like they were a part of any big establishment. With these people, it was just fine if you didn't know them.
In fact, it was probably better if you didn't.
Like the man in black walking through the crowd, with a skull on the fabric covering the lower half of his face.
Barely anybody noticed him, as he weaved his way past, continuing as if he weren't there. But that could change, couldn't it?
If he felt like it, if he just drew his blade…..
Then they would notice. Or perhaps not if they were to slow.
He faded into the darkness of an alley, and the towns folk continued their lives, oblivious to what could have been.
The police station stood on the ever original Main Street, a big brick building with lots of windows.
The sign declaring it's purpose was so small it went unnoticed most of the time, not that it was really needed, since most of the inhabitants knew where it was anyway.
The window smack dab in the middle, belonged to the office with the plaque formerly reading 'Chief of Police', which was now scratched out with 'Agent Ringgold' scribbled underneath it.
The desk inside was a mess, with paper, pens, and various other things strewn all over it.
"So they want me to track this guy down?"
Two dusty boots came down on the table, scattering the paper even more. The secretary winced at the further disarray, but answered anyway.
"Yes, they have it on good authority that he is indeed within this town."
"So someone saw him? In the market? Walking?"
"Yes."
The owner of the boots sighed and slapped the file down. Agent Jika was a young women with shoulder length messy white blond hair, that had random braids done in it. She wore a short sleeved button up white shirt with a black vest over it and shorts.
Her dishevelled appearance stood at odds with her supposed title.
"The council men are pussy cats, and foolish ones at that." She grouched, grabbing a box of pocky and tearing it open. "One sign of danger and they jump. If their so scared they should just leave him be, seeing as how he hasn't done anything yet."
"Uh, forgive me for saying, but hasn't he done a lot?" The secretary nervously questioned.
Jika snorted. "Sure, but not in this town. Since he hasn't caused trouble here yet, they shouldn't provoke him."
She stuck a few of the chocolate covered snacks in her mouth. "They're obviously terrified, and for good reason. If what the rumours say is true, this little police force don't stand a chance!"
She pushed her self up and maneuvered her way through the room, patting the skittish woman on the shoulder on her way past.
"Don't worry, I'll deal with him. It's my job after all. Shame I have to bring those silly police men with me though."
And without a backwards glance she strode out the door.
"Black Bandit. Name: Unknown. Age: Unknown. Weapon: Unknown. What kind of file is this? There is absolutely no info in here!
And Bandit? Why not murderer? Or even assassin! He's a killer isn't he?"
Agent Jika sat on the roof of the police station, legs crossed, frowning at the incompetent thing that dared call itself a respectable police file.
She chewed her lip thoughtfully. "He's been active for a few years now….he must be good. I wonder what he wants from this town….."
The further you traveled into Mikils, the darker the atmosphere seemed to become. The people on the streets weren't so carefree, the shops, not quite so innocent. It was still a far cry from the darkest places in most cities, but it was bad enough.
This particular street was lined with clubs, each one brighter and more colourful then the last.
As night drew near, the one about half way down, stirred. The door in the back opened slowly, revealing a hard set man.
Once convinced the alley was empty, he stepped out, a good ten others behind him. They were gang members, hired to protect the slightly pudgy gentlemen standing in the centre of their loose circle. The man kept glancing around himself edgily, as if expecting the shadows to jump at him.
The group hurried through the alleys, as silently as they could, heading for the town gate. They didn't reach it.
Standing in their path was a small figure, shrouded in black, the skull still there, covering his mouth.
He had black, not quite shoulder length, hair, and slanted dark eyes.
The suited man recognized him immediately, and the fear radiating off him was palpable. "Feitan!"
"So glad you remember me." The bandit drawled. "Though I'd be worried if you didn't, it's only been a day, after all."
He took a step forward, making the ruffians scramble into defensive positions.
Their leader stepped up to him, a snarl on his face. "Not another step, or your head flies!"
"Mine?"
That was all the warning they had. And it wasn't enough.
One moment he stood there, the next he was calmly stepping over their bodies, closing in on his now defenceless target.
"You thought these thugs would help you? You're more of a fool then I had originally thought."
Blood dripped slowly from the blade now in his hand.
"Wa-wait! I can-"
"Can what? Give me money? You forget, I am a thief. I don't need you to give it to me." His eyes flashed in sadistic amusement, as he stalked forward. "Anything I wan't, I take. Anyone I don't like, I kill. You're going to have to try harder then that."
The panicking man didn't need anymore incentive to turn tail and flee.
"Futile." The assassin whispered.
Before the escapee knew what struck him, he had a sword sticking through his chest. His scream was swallowed by the inky night.
"Oh, don't worry." His hunter murmured into his ear from behind. "I didn't hit your heart, so you won't die just yet."
He yanked his sword out and grabbed the bleeding man by the hair. "No, if I leave you, you'll bleed to death. Slowly."
He drew his blade across the mans neck lazily, leaving a thin line of blood.
"But where's the fun in that? You haven't suffered nearly enough yet."
His mask had slid just low enough so that you could see his feral smile.
His victim sobbed, babbling about mercy, blood pouring from his open wound and spilling from his mouth.
The killer's smile grew, and he lifted his blade again, preparing to keep his promise of torture.
Then he froze. His head turned slowly, barley perceptibly.
"Sneaking around, like a little mouse. Not wise." He murmured.
His sword flashed out, stabbing the man cleanly through the heart and killing him instantly.
His killer tossed him aside without a second thought and spun to face the new presence.
He flicked the blood off his blade, and eyed the women stepping out of the lengthening shadows.
She twirled a knife idly with one hand. "I suppose it was just to much to hope that you wouldn't notice me. Would have made my job easier mind you."
"I don't particularly care about your job."
"You wouldn't, would you?" Jika flicked her bangs out of her eyes only to have them fall back into place again. "So you had a target. Your showing up makes some sense now. Shame I couldn't save that poor soul though."
Feitan stepped forward lazily, starting to circle the young women. "Believe me, he was hardly an innocent."
"I'm sure. Still a life, mind you."
"Idealistic. You must be with the police."
"Bounty Hunter, actually. Though I do work with them some. I'm called Agent Jika Ringgold." She slipped a second knife into her empty hand.
The short thief didn't bother replying.
His blade clashed against her knives, which had been brought up a bare fraction of a second before he reached her. He slid his sword down to swipe at her legs to which she side stepped, catching the tip under her foot.
Feitan wrenched it free with a flick of his wrist and Jika jumped back, throwing her knives at the same moment.
They were knocked aside with ease.
"Not too bad, I suppose." Feitan conceded, without any real feeling.
"That does mean something, coming from you." She grinned, new blades already dangling from her fingers. "So what's your name?"
He raised and eyebrow.
"What? It's not polite to fight without knowing each others names."
"If you say so." He readjusted his grip on his blade. "Doesn't mean I'll tell you."
"Not very social, are you?"
His sword made for her neck, clashing with her blades again.
"Nope, definitely not." She mused, ducking down and away from his sword.
She paused just out of reach, and quickly raised her hands. "Look, I know you're just toying with me and I don't really have a reason to fight you since you, uh, killed every one already. So let's call a truce, or something? Then you can get back to more interesting stuff. Sound okay?"
A chuckle broke free, slow and quiet, and somehow filling the ally. He stepped back, swinging his sword idly.
"Are you that desperate to save your own life? You should have thought about that before you stepped in."
The girl shrugged. "There was still someone alive at the time. I couldn't simply watch. Though I couldn't help in the end."
"So idealistic." He repeated. "But a coward in the end."
He brought an umbrella out of seemingly nowhere and slid his sword into the handle. "Killing a person who has already given in is no fun."
A drop fell from the sky. Then another. Soon it was raining.
The umbrella snapped open, the painted skull standing out against the vibrant red.
The skull over his face slid just low enough so his fierce grin was visible. "Be happy your small life will go on a little longer."
And he vanished into the shadows.
Jika's eyes never left the spot where he'd disappeared, even as the rain drenched her and washed the blood from the street.
She had a feeling his grin would stay with her for a long time.
A/N: I am very curious about what you guys think of this story. So leave a review and let me know! Feedback is immensely valuable.