[This is my first Fanfic here on FF.net, flame me and you die! -ahem- now that that's outta the way. I'll begin. ^_^ k? Shout outs 2 tha peeps that inspired me to start writing. It's not a lot of peeps, but hey, you were there from the beginning. ShoutOutz2: Snake-sama, Cora-chan, Suki-chan, Loco-chan, Arym-sama, Veral-sama. From SSIC: Vampiro-sama, Cy-Cy, Ty-Ty, Palla Palla, Jun Jun, Bulmie, Ataru, Hotaru, Kazzy, Galaxia Angel, um…um… Jaded Lily, Lord Jedite-sama and Vegeta-sama! 2ThaNormals: Rachel, Marc, Marc, Jon. Even the EVILS get recognition. KC-san, SD-san, HK-san!, Demrekes-san. Okay that's enough. Time to begin. ^^] - [Disclaimer: SoD is my name and darkness is my game. Salena Kaplan : Amara Yahno is property of me. Other characters in my story(ies) are of other people I know. Arigatou minna san!]

Based on the weirdly created mind of the Shinobi of Darkness, SHINOBI is proud to present to you:

THE KAPLAN TRIALS-"Fukou na Isshou" [A life of Misery.]

-Flashback-

Gloved fingertips reached across the round table to claim a photo. Hidden partly by shadow two figures sat in silence and inhaled the faint scent of lit cigarettes. The Café at this time of night should have been closed, but remained open due to some 'unfinished business'. A well-built man smothered in warmth by his worn brown coat lifted a cig to the corner of his mouth. Trying not to disturb the deafening silence of the room, he quietly fumbled around in his pocket for a lighter.

"What is this?" Coldly, a voice interrupted his search just as his eyes left the other to join his wandering hand. He pulled the lighter up to his cig and flicked the cover to spark a flame. When he inhaled enough puffs of smoke, he rested his eyes on the young woman across from him.

"Your objective."

The woman sat motionless before him. One of her two gloved hands rested against the table. The photograph of an aged man was clutched loosely between two digits. She remained quiet and unmoving as she studied the man in her grasp. Her silence was scaring him. He watched her and she said nothing. With the black hat pulled slightly down over her eyes, he didn't know whether she was watching him or the photo. When she finally lifted her head a bit, she tossed the picture back over to his side of the table. It stopped just beneath his smoking hand.

"He's old."

"So?" The brown haired man dabbed the end of his cig on the ashtray before him. The ashes fell away from his cig. He leaned forward a bit and folded his hands against the table. "He's old and an easy kill, right?"

You're also old and an easy kill, she thought. she simply nodded.

"Right."

"Then what's the problem, Amara?" She clutched a tight fist. He leaned back a bit when she lifted her gaze toward him. "uh…right. Sorry."

"That you can do this yourself, Snake-sama. Call me that again and-"

The door's chime sounded as the door was heavily pushed open. Amara shut her eyes at being disturbed. She knew who was entering the café uninvitingly and to hide her string of curses, she grumbled. Footsteps engaged with the floor as the entrance door slammed shut. Slow-paced, were the steps. Amara placed a hand on the man's arm as it moved under the table to grasp the custom Walther P-99. She slowly shook her head at him and he casually placed his hand on top of the table. Amara stood up, pushing her chair back as she went, and turned to face the newcomer.

"Cora." Amara voiced as she slipped one gloved hand within a pocket of her trench coat. A woman clad in black with shoulder-length, copper-brown hair stood within the middle of the room. The crimson, ankle-length, snakeskin-leather trench coat cupped her legs nicely as she slightly posed to glance around. Her eyes fell away from Amara and landed on the brown haired man who still sat behind her at the table. Disgusted, she turned away and walked around a bit. She didn't even bother to answer. Like Amara, she remained silent and only talked when she felt the need to. Amara questioned herself internally and tilted her head. She turned back to face the older acquaintance.

"About this…target," she started. Amara watched as he leaned forward. Already, he was on to his second cigarette. Tassels of green rested gently against his shoulder. She noticed strands of his hair wavering amidst the drift that entered the room. After lighting his cig again and exhaling a few streams of smoke, his gruff voice finished without her approval.

"Take it or leave it."

She sighed.

"How soon?" She questioned just as she reached down to claim the briefcase near her chair. Cora occasionally glanced in their direction as she poured herself a tall glass of whiskey. She made as little noise as possible. She was perfectly quiet for a reason. To listen in on their little conversation. She glanced over to the male in the room.

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?!" Amara shrieked. She watched as he exhaled a new breath of smoke. She batted away at the rising smoke. "Why tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. You better get going." She hated being sent away without full answers. She hated being sent away even with them. She hated it, period. Angrily she reached across the table and snatched the cigarette from his mouth. To make a point, she ground it out in the ashtray. That brought a smirk to Cora's lips and a small bit of laughter. When she laughed, Pliskin looked in her direction. She quickly averted her eyes.

"Smoking's bad for you!" Amara huffed. With the briefcase in tact, she turned and stalked off toward the entrance door. Forgetting all about her comrade who stood behind the counter, drinking away at the bottle of whiskey, she slammed the door behind her making various object rattle. Pliskin blinked silently then looked down on the out cigarette in his ashtray. Grumbling something about "women", "anger", and "cigarettes", he moved to shuffle around in his coat pocket again. Cora quietly started a countdown as she pulled back her trench coat's sleeve and looked to her watch.

"5…4…3…2…1."

She shut her eyes just in time to hear Amara scream. Pliskin looked up at the sound then got up to go to the window. He pulled aside a curtain and peered out. Amara stood within a clutter of metal within the parking lot. He could see her throwing a tantrum as she kicked at the bits of metal and cycle parts lying around. A simple "Hm" came about from the lightly bearded man. The entrance door's scream filled his ear and he turned to face it. Cora stood before it, loosely holding the whiskey she found in the higher shelves. In silence they stared at each other. Cora never wavered and neither did he. He expected her to say something. Her stare was kind of intimidating but being that he's a man, he wouldn't let that be known. Saying nothing, Cora turned and stepped past the threshold. The door closed shut behind her.

-Flashback ends-

'You know what you have to do, right?" Amara asked, leaning back against her swivel chair. Her boots posted up against the corner of her cluttered desk. Trying to imitate a hard-ass that she knew, she placed a cigarette in the corner of her mouth, but didn't light it. A pale woman smothered in black folds of a cloak, lifted her hand a bit. Amara could see the purple interior silk of her cloak's sleeve. -Silk. Very expensive.- she thought. She took notice of the sleek black hair resting along her shoulders and the necklace that twinkled every now-and-then. The protruding silence ended by the sudden tap of Amara's pen. She was tired of waiting. An answer must come sooner or later. She looked up to see this woman's blood red eyes stare apathetically through her.

"Loco?" Amara voice risen a bit to see if she was okay or at least alert. Amara fumbled around trying to catch the cigarette that fell from her mouth. She caught it and sighed with relief that it didn't fall to the ground. She leaned back in her chair and propped her foot up once more. Loco released the photo from her grasp and turned her back on the foolish, yet, young shinobi. She sneered and tossed a brief statement over her shoulder.

"By midnight. Assured."

Loco didn't wait for Amara to nod or for any other form of an agreement to come; she had already started in her walk toward which she came. Amara looked down on the photo on her desk then to the doorway. Just as Loco was exiting, Cora was coming in. Sneering, Loco walked past. Because of the cloak she wore, she didn't feel as it brushed against Cora's shoulder.  Without hesitation Cora passed her a dirty look. A hand that grasped her shoulder abruptly stopped Loco. Harshly, her back slammed against the wall and a custom 8mm Nambu .14 pistol was perched against her left cheek. Cora glared from behind it.

"Cora!" Amara stood up. Both of her hands were pressed against the desk as she leaned forward.

"yamete, Cora!"

Hesitantly, Cora's mouth twisted into a frown. Loco glared from beneath the hood of her cloak at Cora who countered with a cold stare of her own. Neither began to waver.

"She pushed me."

Amara dismissed the eerie and lifeless tone of her comrade. "Save your kills for later. She works for us."

At this, Cora raised a questionable brow and looked Loco over once. "…"

She pulled away from Loco, uncocked the handgun's hammer, and sheathed her weaponry. Amara sighed. Cora tugged on her leather, fingerless gloves. She stopped when she got a perfect fit. Loco straightened, patting out the wrinkles in her cloak. She growled and turned toward the doorway, grumbling something about "assassins", "mortals", and "weapons" after a string of inaudible curses.

Amara called out to the woman.

"Midnight?"

Loco scoffed, only to disappear through the doorway without a confirmation. Amara fell back into her chair at the response. She glared over to Cora who leaned against the south wall polishing a short sword.

"This is all your fault, ya' know."

"Not."

"Yes it is! If she doesn't kill him you-"

"If you had of killed him in the beginning, it wouldn't be my fault." Cora glanced over to her. "The next time you raise your voice at me, there'll be a conflict between us."

"…."

Amara frowned at her words and quietly felt around in her pocket. She removed the single cigarette from earlier and placed it in her mouth. Cora looked up briefly then returned to her cleaning.

"Smoking, I see."

"Not really."

"…Right."

Amara's frown deepened and she tossed the unlit cig aside. With her eyes lost in a stare and her mind rapidly thinking of the outcome, she asked:

"…What if he doesn't die? What happens to me?"

"What?" Cora looked up from the soft cloth that swiped carefully along her blade. Like always, she never really paid much attention to a Kunoichi. Because she's apart of Saito, Kunoichi's were considered inferior and weak-minded. Because she was an ally, she was careful to listen. Sometimes.

"The ol' man. What if he's not dead by midnight?"

"Kill him tomorrow."

"The deadline is today."

"Then kill him today."

Amara broke her drifty stare and sighed looking in her direction. Cora was always the one to talk nonsense when things didn't very much involve her use of skills. Sometimes her smart-mouth comments could get the best of Amara and Cora, herself, knew that. Cora smirked at Amara's confused look.

"You really are weak. In more ways than I imagined."

"I am not. Quit calling me weak."

"I'm stating the truth."

"Are not."

"Are too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Not."

"Too."

Amara sighed.

"okay, ya'know what? I need a drink."

"That's a good thing."

"What is?"

"That you're becoming an alcoholic."

"I am not."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

"You are."

"No."

"Yes."

"Please. Don't start this again."

"I didn't start it. You did."

"No, you did.--damn!"

Amara grunted in frustration and slapped herself. Cora crossed her arms. The door opened and both of the women looked toward it. Cora was the first to acknowledge some distaste. She rolled her eyes as Veral came in. Amara shook her head. He was a rather handsome young man who stood tall and was accompanied by a perky brunette who had a knack for hitting her mark with firearms. He referred to her as Mysti.

"You called? What's up?" The dark-haired man leaned over Amara's desk and smiled. Mysti frowned and poked him in his side. He eased back a bit then straightened. Cora smirked from across the room.

"What happened back there? Did you complete the assignment?" Amara blinked watching Veral bring a hand to the back of his head. He had sort of a confused look across his face.

"W-What are you talking about, Kaplan?"

"KC-sama…err…Chris. He was to be taken out. Remember?" Amara folded her hands. Mysti nudged her fiancé.

"You remember. The guy that tries so hard to kill Jill and I. How many times must I remind you?" She pouted. Veral slapped his forehead and laughed.

"ohh! THAT guy!" He paused when he saw the change in Amara's face. "um…No, I didn't. Sorry."

"That's it," Amara grumbled, moving aside a few files from her desk. She slammed an index onto the call button. "Security. Please escort Mr. Veral and Ms. Mysti out of the premises." A confirmation soon followed. "Thank You."

"w-what? But I just got here!" Veral slammed his hand onto her desk. Mysti jumped. She pulled on Veral's coat, trying to calm him down before he lost his temper. She failed in her attempt. Grasped by the collar of her leather trench, Amara was pulled halfway over the desk. Her face just inches from his. "You can't just kick me out like this! You owe me!"

Cold orbs reflectively stared back at him, almost through him. Cora watched quietly from her corner of the room.

"I owe you nothing. You should have done your job. Now release me."

She watched as his teeth gritted. Mysti shook him gently and he batted her away. "I ain't doin' nothin'."

"Then suffer the consequences." Apathetically, she tilted her head. Veral's eyes widened as he felt a metal texture touch his head. Glancing to his right, a 8mm Nambu .14 pistol stared back at him. And even further, Cora held that cold stare too.

"Drop her."

Mysti wasn't about to risk her fiancé getting hurt so easily. Pulling Veral out of the way she stepped forward into the barrel of Cora's handgun. At the same time, two twin Colt Mark IV's were brought to aim. One aimed between those eerie green eyes, the other to her knees. If Cora's head wasn't going to be the first thing blown off, then her legs would. Mysti may be a sweetheart, but a factor remains that she's deadly. Cora's smirk faded instantly into a deepened frown. This Mysti chick was the first to oppose her in quite some time. The last was Amara. Mysti cocked the hammer of both pistols in unision.

"You drop it."

[Okay, peeps! That's the end of chapter one. Tell me what'chu think. x.x I was getting bored outta my mind with this story during the middle! I don't see how you writers do it! –huggles her Ken-Ohki plush/sigh- -_- Time to sleep. Ja mata ne, minna san!]