Chapter 3, Edgy business

The morning sun rose above the never ending surface of the ocean, painting it with crimson and silver. An interesting combination.

The sailors hurried about their own business on the ship while the wind steadily picked up to fill the sails. They just barely escaped the heat that ruled the desert, but the memory of it would fill the air for a while longer.

Seagulls screeched high above, unaware that they risked their lives by staying too close to the ship. They would never notice the sparkle of metal piercing the air before it was too late.

But he would not. Killing seagulls meant bad luck, after all, and either way he didn't enjoy killing that much.

The warmth of the desert stood no chance against the increasing ocean wind and he pulled down the black mask covering most of his face. Small wisps of light blue hair fluttered around, newly escaped from the leather strap confining the long braid hanging down his back.

He leant forwards, placing his arms on the ship's railing. Looking down at his hands and the black cape slouching over his upper arms, it was hard not to feel a little out of place. In fact, he still had not gotten completely used to the sunlight, despite standing on the deck since the sun shyly peeked above the horizon an hour ago.

'Ah, the joys of an adamant nighttime worker…'

It had been quite a while since he last worked in daylight. Most of his training took place deep within the heart of Navarre fortress, with missions as per tradition carried out at night.

The sunlight was almost irritating.

He mused about this for a while.

'Dress in black, don't like the sun. Oh happy day. I'm becoming a vampire.'

That amused him in a morbid way, especially the mental image of Carlie smashing her morning star into his skull. Or trying to, only to find herself hitting empty air while he gave a sinister laugh from the shadows behind her. Yup, he'd make a good villain!

He would have chuckled aloud, had his training not taught him full control of all such instincts.

Only training had been a little boring lately, however. As much as the thought of his friends' being threatened filled him with rage, Hawk had to admit that this seemed like an interesting change of pace. He had not been able to try out his vigilantly honed skills against any real danger since the last demon in the desert was found – which had been two years ago.

He yawned, stepping back to stretch out a little. Only being awake at night caused another problem than getting used to darkness until light became painful. Stifling a second yawn he headed towards the door leading into the inside of the ship. The other travelers and hardened sailors went to great lengths to stay as far away as possible from the slender man clad in black, but he hardly noticed.

The slightly smelly, creaky bowels of the ship were far duskier than the outside world, which would have been good. But instead he only felt irritated that his eyes so quickly lost the ability to pierce the deepest shadow, and paused by the foot of the stair while waiting for his dark vision to recover from the abuse.

Eventually his eyes adjusted to his satisfaction, and he headed forwards through the none too roomy corridor – more like a tunnel – towards his cabin.

He stopped with one hand hovering above the door knob. Something wasn't right.

And he would have been ashamed of himself if he had not known what it was. Silently he pulled up the mask over his face again, until only the eyes could be seen.

The door did not make a single sound as it opened. The silence from inside the cabin made the lapping of waves and creaking of the ship seem deafening.

A shadow slipped inside, and the door closed behind it. It seemed as if only fingertips stroke against the empty lock, but the faint click rung through the dusk.

That was the challenge.

From out of nowhere, a needle pierced the empty space from the middle of the room and the shadow. It hit only wood, for Hawk was already gone. He melted into a shadow beside the cot, listening intently. This one was good... it would be fun.

A flash of darkness in the ceiling warned him just before the metal star would have cut into his shoulder. He swept across the floor into another shadow, keeping one eye on the shade above him all the time. It spidered in the opposite direction, disappearing from view in a duskier corner between the ceiling and wall.

Interesting.

From a hidden pocket, Hawk withdrew four thin blades, holding them between his fingers as he searched the room with his gaze.

A storm of needles erupted from the corner on the other end of the room, and he rolled aside while throwing the blades. They passed through the swarm of tiny metal pieces without hitting a single one, never changing their exact course. The shadow leapt onto the floor to avoid them, drawing a pair of black daggers from its belt. Already on his feet, Hawk did the same.

It was another ninja, draped in black with its face hidden behind a mask of its own. The eyes were hardly visible between the cloth and the brim of the helmet.

Details.

They clashed, whirling around in a fatal dance of sharp edges and tricks, where speed was the only thing that could save them. The only sound heard was a whispering screech as the daggers occasionally met.

Hawk tried to catch his attacker's ankle with his own and twist during the confusing exchange of blows, but the dark clad foot slipped away with almost feline grace. At the same time, the assailant twisted its arms around, risking loosing balance in order to succeed with an attack. Hawk bent backwards like a snake, but one of the black daggers grazed his face. Not nearly enough to draw blood, but his mask received a gash and fell open, hanging uselessly by his other cheek.

Humph.

He continued backwards, planting both hands on the floor and sweeping the rest of his body upwards. The heel of his boot smashed into a chin with a satisfactory clack and the assailant staggered backwards. Long before it had time to regain orientation, Hawk was behind it with a dagger at its throat. It tensed.

"I win. Drop them," Hawk murmured.

The daggers hit the floor, one of them burying its blade a considerable length into the floorboards. In defeat, the ninja silently crossed its wrists behind its back. Hawk withdrew a thin rope from another pocket and began to loop it around the end of the assailant's arms, using only his left hand since the right still held the dagger.

"Not good enough," he said, "but at least you cut my mask. It was a stupid move, though."

The attacker shrugged, silently. Hawk secured the first knot with a swift pull and started with another, for good measure.

"I don't think the captain will like the news about a stowaway," Hawk continued in a conversational tone, "so just what am I supposed to do with you? Hmm?"

Still no reply. Not lowering the dagger, nor ceasing to work on the tying up business, the nightblade bent his neck forwards. Now that they stood still, it became apparent that he was taller than his prisoner, and thus reached without any greater troubles. He bit down on the hem of the mask and pulled back until the cloth slipped off the crook of the wearers nose and fell down her face as he let go.

She sneered in amusement as he did not quite manage to hide the momentary flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"Who did you expect?" she asked.

He had recovered by then, and sheathed the dagger while taking a step back.

Ah. It had all been part of her training, then. Not too bad at all.

"The question you should ask yourself," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips, "might rather be what I would have done if it was somebody else."

She glanced over her shoulder.

"Now you're treading on dangerous ground, Hawk," she said.

"Says you."

"That, I do."

He took another step backwards and regarded her with a healthy deal of amusement.

"I think I like this situation though," he said, "now you can't slap me."

Jessica raised an eyebrow.

"When was the last time I slapped you?" she asked.

"It can never get too long since the last time, in my opinion," Hawk said.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"My only reason to slap you is that you don't behave, after all."

She snickered at the look on his face. In the next moment however, he was behind her again, taking her chin in one hand.

"How does one behave around a lady like you to avoid being slapped then?" he asked, eyebrows twitching their own message.

Jessica spun around on one foot, forcing Hawk to duck as her other leg swung at him in a wide arc. His elbow rammed the inside of her knee and with a frustrated gasp she fell. Even more irritated as she landed in his arms, as he casually sat on one knee on the floor. He grinned at her grimace, until he felt a row of cold stitches graze his Adam's apple.

"Check," Jessica said.

She pushed, forcing him to let go of her and retreat. Even as she slipped to the floor her hand never moved away from his throat.

"Cheater," Hawk said while moving backwards over the floor.

"I never said you won," she reminded him.

"I tied you up."

"Not good enough. You're loosing points, trainee."

"You calling me a trainee?" he said, a hint of deeper offense in his voice.

"You've just failed to make a good impression this time."

His back hit the wall and she rose up on her knees, holding him down with the needles.

"Check mate," she said, grinning.

Hawk sighed.

"Okay, you win," he said.

But as her triumph seemed complete, he added:

"One victory out of five isn't too bad, after all."

Jessica's smirk disappeared immediately.

"Why you!"

She dropped the needles, and despite risking to be strangled in the wrestling match, Hawk couldn't help but laugh.

'-'-'-'

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Author's note:

My god, this was so terribly animeish… and I say that as a lover of anime, but still, golly… I kept seeing the fight animated in my head, dramatic music and all.

Anybody still reading this? I'm going to attempt to finish this before 2007, I promise. Maybe even 2005!

… wait a moment, did I just write a 100 percent Hawk-centric chapter? I better check if I've got a fever…