As the sun slowly set into the distance and the sky turned from red
to black, a lone shinobi lay silently in a tree, pondering her life and all
that she has endured from her past decisions. She had run for so long and
it seemed to her that she would have to run forever. For abandoning her
tribe she would inevitably pay the price of death, and she had eluded her
fate thus far. She stared off into the distance, enjoying the peaceful
moments whenever they came, for there was little time to admire the glories
of life when you are hunted constantly.
Night set in slowly and the runaway decided to continue her journey
to solace under the cover of darkness. Slinking down the trees to the
darkened forest floor, she checked to make sure that she was ready to
defend herself like so many times before. All the necessary equipment was
in place, but most importantly was her Ninjato, the one weapon that had
served her for so very long and had been the single thread that held her
above oblivion far too often. With all that she needed in hand and sheath,
she began to walk, aimlessly, for there was no place for this runaway to
go, no safe-heaven from despair, no shelter that would truly protect her
from fate. To play it by ear was the way of this loner's life, as it had
always been since that fateful day when she doomed herself to running.
She cocked her head, brushed her hair back, and gazed about the
forest searching for anything that would give her a clue as to where she
was to go next. A lone firefly flickered in the distance, signaling to the
young girl to head deeper into the thick forest. Following this sign, she
began to walk cautiously further into the foliage. A few rays of moonlight
shone down through the canopy, illuminating scattered areas of the dead
leaves that littered the cold, hard ground. These were the only places
around her that were visible anymore, for a dark shroud had crept over the
woodland, encompassing all that was around the lone figure. Listening to
the song of the woods as she traversed the land, the ever vigilant kunoichi
relaxed, truly relax for the first time in ages. She was at peace with the
world, the music of the crickets calming her soul, a river off in the
distance soothing her nerves and the wind rustling the leaves, putting her
tense mind at ease.
The Kunoichi continued to walk when she sensed something was out of
place in the darkness. The female's heart began to race as a small shadow
flew at her face and with a quick motion of her arm, the blade was
unsheathed and sliced downward with a powerful blow. She glanced around in
fear, but to no avail, as no definite forms could be made out in the black
of night. Frantically she ran her eyes over every inch of the wooded area
that she could see, hoping that she would find her next assassin before it
was too late. Crouching in silence, clenching her blade, her heart
pounding even harder with every chirp of the crickets, the warrior was not
satisfied with what she found, or rather, could not find. With no signs of
any being's presence other than her own and the few insects that littered
the air, she stood up. When she reached for the object she had hit with
her sword, she became overwhelmed with fear. It was no ordinary fear, but
one that was all consuming and hit right at the root of all fears. It was
the fear of one's own life about to end.
The shinobi held the split object to the rays of the full moon that
continued to pierce the upper layers of the trees. She was overcome with
fear and realized it had come time to face her fate head on. She dropped
both halves of the creature she had slain, and ran toward the river that
babbled off in the distance. Her legs, weary from previous battles, could
barely carry her, but she was driven by emotion. The kunoichi had struck
down the calling sign of her demise, and now had no choice but to run for
an opening, somewhere, anywhere that was out in the open where she stood a
chance. The few rays of light had begun to disappear as clouds covered the
sky above. The forest went silent as almost utter darkness set in. The
only noise was the panting of a small girl and the slight sound of her
footsteps as they caressed the dirt. The time of her fate was at hand, for
she had been found in the one moment she let her guard down. The two
halves of a purple butterfly that lay dead where it had been hit, that had
been so ruthlessly killed out of sheer fear, signaled the battle about to
begin.
