I was thinking the other day (I know, what a shocker), and it struck me that if I were to pick an obnoxiously American song for Saya's theme, it would completely have to be Shots by LMFAO and Lil John.
Just sayin.
Ah, and to that Banjo playing Ducky girl who's too lazy to sign in (Man, I made that obvious):
Don't worry.
I planned to use Hisoka quite a bit.
You'll see more of her.
Oh, and I'm postponing the two girls dramatic entrance.
I wanna screw around with this setting more first.
Oh, and while I'm typing so much, I figured I'd throw in some decent song titles.
I love it when people do that.
I'll give you three:
1.) Hinageshi No Oka by Yukawa Shione (There's an anime it's in called Speed Grapher. It's pretty good)
2.) Nigeru Mono by Hirasawa Susumu (From Paprika)
3.) Synchronicity by Yui Makino (I thought it was good, anyway)
Happy Trails.
I want those wings.
Those wings, they're something….
Well, they're something else, aren't they?
The wings….
I mean the freedom to be anything, to do anything…
It's just that…
I only have these chains.
And they are so tight around my ankles, so constricting and so heavy.
I wonder whether or not I'll be able to be there…
Be strong enough to protect you…
I mean, after all; it's sort of hard to protect someone who's stronger than you, wouldn't you say?
.
.
…..
Saya looked over, a rough gust of wind spitting salty sea water at her face. The sand beneath her crunched lightly as she shifted, her toes wriggling deep into the cooler soil.
The gust flattened, leaving only a warm kiss of air to caress her cheeks as a crooked smirk lifted her cheeks.
To her left, Jin stood stiffly, his arms crossed tightly and a firm frown on his own face.
His combat pants and leather breastplate, their villages insignia scribbled along an undershirt.
His own hair flared down, it's thick, messy lengths at odd angles from the playful wind.
His weapon of choice, a long sword, was attacked to his hip, and his leather gloved hands were balled to fists in the creases of his elbows.
Saya held back a chuckle.
He looked down at her with that frown of his…
And quickly looked back up.
"You know, Jin, just because you're supposed to be a bodyguard at the moment, doesn't mean you have to act like you have a stick up your butt." She leaned back on her arms, the smirk ever present. She heard a grumble and a mutter.
"If I'm goanna do my job, then I'm sure as hell goanna do it right." He replied, shifting his own feet in the wet sand, just fresh of a flick of rippled sea waves.
Saya's silk pants easily soaked up the dampness and were soon soaked, as were the cuffs on Jin's.
"Yeah, well don't be such a prude about it. I'm a better fighter than you, anyway. Besides, since when have you taken this so seriously?" Her voice pitched towards the end, inquisitiveness evident among her vocal chords.
He seemed perturbed by her question, his frown deepening at her accusation.
He turned his head towards her.
"For one, I'm not a prude. Two, you're better than me when it comes to swordplay, not hand-to-hand combat. And third, I've always taken my life's work seriously." An uneven smile lifted as he gave her a scornful smirk. "Just because you're a lackadaisical slob doesn't mean we all have to follow in your footsteps, even if you are our leader."
Saya barked out a loud, hearty laugh.
"Bakka, you lookin for a fight?"
"Nope." He grinned fully at her. "You'd give up halfway through, anyway." She shook with laughter as she plopped on her back, her hands rested behind her skull.
"Jin, you're fired."
His grin faltered.
"Why?"
"You know me too well. It could prove devastating should you betray me." She joked with him.
As if he were the wind itself, he suddenly appeared beside her, squatting just next her head.
"Never would I betray you, Sayuri-dono." His voice was so severe, Saya had to look up at him. His gaze was adoring as he watched her, and he leaned his chin on one hand.
"You are everything."
Saya regarded his face for a moment, before smirking and laying back down.
"Bah! And it seems you're delusional, too. Guess it's time to break out the job application forms."
Her cheek was suddenly pinched, Jin's fore finger and thumb yanking on the skin as she flailed her arms with tears in her eyes.
….
…
…
Unexpectedly, Hisoka's smirk fell into a frown as she glared back at Saya.
"Mind your own damn business, I can handle myself." She spat up at her, kicking the man for good measure. Saya's grin never faltered, instead, she continued to smile fondly at the woman and cupped her chin.
"Ne, Kusekke-chan, it didn't look like you were handling it." The woman grinded her teeth and flipped Saya a plainly manicured finger. The man grunted and twitched slightly as she spun on her heel. She was on her way back to the front of the brothel.
But as she turned, she was abruptly stopped by a fist gripping her ankle. Because of her momentum, she violently fell face forward into the gravel, with only two weakly raised arms to break her fall. With a small gasp, she flipped onto her back and squirmed out of the grip on her leg.
In front of her was her livid ex-customer, glaring daggers at her with an outreached hand.
"Ama, I'm gonna-." The man's threat was sharply cut off by Saya's foot, which had landed on the back of his skull and promptly smashed his face back into the ground.
"Baka ka." She hummed. "Be a good boy and take it like a man." She rubbed her foot deeper into his hair in emphasis. She looked up to the woman covered in a sheen of dirt from the floor, who was already picking herself up and dusting off.
She regarded Saya defiantly, her chin jutted out and a spark in her eyes.
"…I didn't ask for your help." She said stiffly. She crossed her arms beneath her chest, a hip jutted out in the utmost feminine gesture. Saya smirked as she reevaluated the woman before her.
She had a definite bark, and it seemed she had a little bit of a bite to accompany it; however, Saya imagined it got her into quite a bit of trouble.
"Doesn't mean you didn't need it." Saya replied.
The alley they stood in was more of a thin, short road that passed along a few other establishments in either direction. There were crates and unused items strewn along the sides, just by each building, which made it seem dirtier than it probably was. The brothel itself was actually quite long, but Saya didn't dwell on it.
A stray kitten, perhaps a few months old, and just a ways from the women, hissed viciously at its lounging mother atop a trash bin. The kitten was a dirty honeydew color, in contrast to the other, which was a deep brown. The cat disregarded the kittens weak attempts at spitting at her, and rather began to clean herself.
"Well, don't think I owe you anything for it, 'cause I'm not giving you a cent!"
The kitten in retaliation to it's mothers fair reaction, wobbled its rear in preparation to pounce.
"Don't worry, Kusekke-chan. Money is the least of my problems."
The mother continued to lick her paw.
"Then why did you help me?"
The kitten sprung into the air, enough to overtake the small bin's height and rush upon the cat.
"Why does the wind blow?"
Hisoka made a skeptical face in silent reply.
The cat, with a lazy side glance, bowed it's head as the kitten just passed above her, where the cat's head had once been. Instead, it crashed into a pile of garbage bags with a sour whine.
Saya leaned forward a bit.
"Because it can."
Hisoka stared at Saya at length, her mouth slightly ajar.
"You…You're a bit off your rocker, aren't you?"
"Hisoka!" Both women turned their gaze to a sliding door past Hisoka, where another young woman emerged.
The woman was much classier than Hisoka, not that Hisoka was a bumpkin or anything; Simply put, this new woman screamed of sensuality. Her breasts oozed over her loose kimono, a kimono that hung from her shoulders and looked as if it were ready to pool completely around her feet. However, she also wore silk hakama beneath her short dress, and a small belt made of woven yarn tied around her waist. Her hair was let loose, hanging just above her shoulders, and was a dark brown that accented her rust-colored eyes.
Make-up heavily coated her face-Actually, Saya realized that this woman looked more like a geisha rather than a prostitute.
"Hisoka," She began again as she approached the two. She eyed Saya for a moment before training her gaze back to the other. "The mistress has had us looking for you all over the place, what have you been doing?"
Hisoka began to open her mouth, but the woman waved her hand.
"Never mind, I probably don't even want to know." She shook her head and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. "Hajii-sama has reserved both you and Nasu-chan for the night, and he's paid a huge amount of money to use the Dragon Lodge."
Hisoka switched hips, and leaned forward with a miniscule scowl.
"What, hasn't he had enough for one week? She whined, crossing her arms.
"He's paying you enough for the work you do, so don't complain." The woman replied and gestured with her hand. Hisoka opened her mouth to argue, but then an expression settled in, as if she thought better of it.
"You're right."
"Excuse me." Both women looked back at Saya, who suddenly held a mischievous glint in her eyes. It made them glow an iridescent gold. "Did you just say Hajii, as in Matsuko Hajii?"
The woman with the kimono made a face as she looked to Hisoka.
"Who's this?"
"She's no one." She snapped. "Just a guest at the inn."
"Yes, a guest who would very much like you to confirm her suspicions." Saya continued.
"Well yeah, the clients name is Matsuko Hajii, but we just call him Hajii-sama. He's our biggest customer and Hisoka's regular."
"Susuki! You're not supposed to say anything!" Hiskoa hissed lowly. "You know he's a priority client!"
The woman, Susuki, looked unimpressed at Hisoka, and turned her attention back at Saya with a smile.
"So, what's it to you, Guest-san?"
Saya regarded the pair before her, her thoughts actually quite far away from the present. Her mind reverted to Hoshigake and the Uchiha, which she knew very well were out scouring the village for their target.
A target that just happened right into her lap.
Oh, the irony.
"Say, do you think I could have a word with your boss?" Saya asked.
"I don't see why not."
"Susuki!"
Susuki gave Hisoka a bored stare.
"What?" She drawled.
"You're going to get us fired, especially if-".
"Oi." Saya stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Hisoka's shoulder.
"You worry too much." Saya hopped off of the man's head, his grunt earning him a disinterested frown from Susuki as she took in his state.
"I'll take you to our mistress, but I warn you, she can be a bit temperamental when tried " Susuki said lightly, turning around in one graceful step.
Hisoka huffed, but otherwise uncrossed her arms and shadowed the taller woman, followed by Saya.
She was led through the same doors Susuki had come from, and into a busy hallway filled with bustling girls carrying pots and flowers, food and chairs, from one room to the next.
Hisoka was about to take a turn into one threshold to their left, but Susuki caught her by her collar with a knowing smile.
"Don't think you can run away, Hisoka. The mistress still wants a word with you." Hisoka scowled and mumbled under her breath.
"It sure is busy here." Saya commented with folded hands. "And I don't see any customers."
"Yeah, it's because of Hajii-sama. It's not just him, but his entire gang who's reserved basically the whole brothel. Once we got word of their reservation we had to begin preparing for the nights festivities." Susuki, with her small steps, weaved them through the crowded rooms, the chatter and arguing of numerous trilling women filled the air, along with the scrapes and scuffs of the chores they were sharing. One beckon in particular ran throughout the household; The voice sounded elderly, and it crackled at the end of each command that was barked.
As the hallway branched off into three different directions, Saya realized just how large the estate was; She hadn't actually noticed anything much about the buildings surrounding the inn before. Not just that, but this didn't seem like just any brothel. If Saya wasn't so reserved, she'd have to say it had class.
The women continued straight, the scratchy voice emitting from the right. As they passed the crossroads, Saya glanced down the interceding hallway to catch glimpse of an old crone, probably in her late seventies, directing a group of women on moving a large tea table from one room to the next.
"Stop whining like a bunch of mice and get a move on it!" She hoarsely ordered.
"But Gigi-san!" One girl sang, the hefty table loose in her grip.
However, they passed quickly and the glimpse was interrupted by the view of the next hallways wall, which Saya greeted with wide, surprised eyes.
Just about everything was made of a polished oak, or something akin to it, and the smaller lanterns that lit the hallways were decorated by a thin rice paper, painted with floating lilies and dancing butterflies. Because there were fewer windows and doors to the outside in the deeper passage, the amount of lanterns doubled, but all held the same design. The flame behind each flickered as if chased by a wind, and gave the setting a dark, mysterious feeling. There was a smell to the whole house, the smell of, perhaps, paprika, or a mixture of feral spices.
"Nani? How is this place so big?" Saya wondered aloud, her mouth ajar as she took in the expansive proportions. Hisoka grumbled, but returned with an answered quicker than Susuki.
"The building looks small from the outside to any passer-by because it's squished between two other buildings side by side. But what no one ever takes the time to figure out is how thick each one of the lots are in certain areas of the slums." She paused, looking back at Saya's excited face. "In fact, if this house was located elsewhere in the city, in a better neighborhood, it would cost a fortune."
"The mistress invested in it a long time ago." Susuki continued. "I don't know the specifics, but apparently it belonged to someone important to her before they passed away. She took up the household and turned it into a brothel-".
"Why'd she turn it into a brothel, of all things?" Saya interjected.
"I wondered that myself a while ago." Susuki sighed. "The mistress has her reasons, none of which are my business, but the brothel is more of a haven for young women who have already gotten into the business. Women who have been cast out, and have no place to go."
Saya nodded understandingly, tracing the lines along the wood with her eyes. The curves danced into swirls and waves, all designed into a mass of random circles.
The hallway they continued along was much quieter than those behind them, only one or two passing women happened across them before they stopped at a large set of doors protected by three young girls, all who sat leisurely on cushions. The hallway had ended at a small room, only a bit wider than the hallway itself. The girls who sat, no older than twelve or thirteen, looked up from their hobby and gave Suzuki a smile.
"The mistress has been waiting." One said minutely, tossing aside her puzzle with a lazy gesture.
"Yeah, we know." Hisoka replied snappily. The smaller girl shrugged, and hopped up from her seat. She walked over to the set of doors that-Wait, did that kanji say what she thought it said?
A sloppily pressed symbol lay half and half on each side of the door, a symbol that Saya found to stand for Kake, or otherwise known as Gamble. The symbol was black against the white rice paper, and was surrounded by a red circle the color of brick.
Saya idly wondered if this was not only a brothel, but a gamble house as well.
"Mistress! Hisoka and Susuki are here to see you, and they brought someone with them!" The girl called out in a high voice, pulling open the door from the side. The other girls went back to their belongings, ignoring the three women as they stepped forward into a musky room.
It was not a large room, as the doors made it seem; rather, the room was big enough to be considered roomy and comfortable.
The walls were just as the others in the house, but covered in scroll paintings of butterflies and purple lilies. However, along the back was a wall-sized painting of cards a pair of dice, scattered on a tea table next to two cups of cool sake. Along the other walls were dust-encrusted books, piling into mini-skyscrapers of bound paper.
The lighting was also dim in this room as well, so Saya could hardly make out any of the books titles; however, she was able to note that most of them held titles that had to do with what seemed to be puzzles. One book particularly stood next to the right wall, the title clearly reading: Gambling, a Game of Wits.
There was a smoky thickness in the room, though, and made it hard to breath without coughing. The scent of tobacco and something even spicier than the hallways itched Saya's nose and tickled her throat, which brought her attention from the décor to the middle of the room.
There, on a large lounge stuffed with pillows, laid a long, wiry woman, bathed in the smoke that weaved from her petite pipe. A tea table was situated between them, on top was a handful of dice, three wooden cups, and a group of metal circles all connected at one end of each other. Behind the woman, Saya could almost make out what seemed to be another door.
"Eh, who's this?"
Her voice was soft, like a river or lake; something cool and collected. Hisoka and Susuki stepped on either side of Saya, Susuki bowing slightly while Hisoka stood stiffly.
The woman eyed Saya with dark brown eyes; Iris' that merged with her pupil to make all seem black. Her hair, too, was dark.
It seemed as if it flowed, like a midnight sky reflected in a slowly flowing river, down her back and to her ankles, which were crossed daintily across one another. She was dressed heavily in layers of loose kimono, all a varying shade of red and violet, her skin a moonlit white against the dim lit room kept about her.
"Her name is…" Susuki trailed off, suddenly realizing that she had no idea what Saya's name was. She looked to Hisoka, who apathetically shrugged back in response.
"Sayuri." Saya smiled at the woman. "At your service."
"Souka. What a pretty name. Sayuri." The woman took a drag from her pipe, a knowing smile of her own danced along her lips, as if she held some sort of little secret. "But before we address your presence." She lanced her eyes towards Hisoka. "Hisoka, dear, where have you been? It's nearly afternoon."
Hisoka placed both hands on her hips and gave her mistress a deadpan look.
"I was taking out the trash, miss." She retorted, Saya holding back a chuckle at her response.
"I see." The mistress replied simply, delicately handling her pipe and emptying the ash in an ashtray along the side of her. "But now that you're done, can you please get ready for tonight? Our most popular customer has specifically asked for you and Nasu, much to our dismay." She reapplied a small bunch of tobacco from a small box next to the tray, packing it into the pipe and relighting it with a stray match.
"Dismay?" Saya inquired with a pointed index finger. The woman's eyes flashed in the twilight light, the smile ever lingering.
"Yes, dismay. Our client is quite the troublemaker."
"But he's also the one who pays a lot of the bills." Susuki added, in a gurgling voice. She sounded as if she were displeased with the fact, but had come to accept it all the same.
"He's an obnoxious pig is what he is." Hisoka hissed. She took notice of her mistress' expression and sighed. "But I'll go clean up and dress. If not for you, mistress, then definitely for the money he's paying."
"Good." The mistress cocked her head to Saya. "Now then, Sayuri, I don't suppose you're here for a job, are you?"
Saya laughed and waved a hand in front of her face.
"No, I'm not." She said. "Actually, I accidentally overheard your girls talking about this priority customer of yours." She leaned her head forward, the light glinting along the gold in them. "Matsuko Hajii, if I'm not mistaken?"
Hisoka sent a rabid glare in her direction, the profanities almost vibrant in the air she exhaled.
"You might, and then again, you might not be." The mistress replied, taking a drag. "What's it to you, Sayuri-san?"
"Well, you see, I have a couple of friends who happen to be looking for Matsuko-san, and it would be incredibly convenient if you'd allow me to speak with him tonight." Saya knew she was on shaky ground. The man was obviously not an idol, but he was a major source of income. A source the brothel would probably not want to lose, and of course, Hoshigake and Uchiha wanted Matsuko for his head, not his money.
There was a dilemma here.
How could she convince the mistress to hand over Matsuko, without creating some sort of disagreement?
Saya bit the inside of her cheek, a plethora of ideas jumping out at her as her eyes raved the room, calculating some deal that could satisfy them both.
The brothel wanted money, and Akatsuki wanted Matsuko.
"How much is Matsuko paying you regularly?" Saya questioned, her voice light and easy.
"Why do you want to know that?" Hisoka quickly asked, the talk of money sending her eyes pointed at Saya.
"Around one-hundred and seventy two thousand, four-hundred yen a week." The woman aired out. She slowly rose to a sitting position, switching her legs and crossing them at the knees. She relaxed into the back of the couch, letting her elbows dip along the back.
Damn….That was a lot. What was this guy doing, shagging five different girls a day?
He must be hooked on sex or something, because that money amount could support a family of five for a two months. Saya internally cringed at the idea of Hoshigake's reaction if she suggested they pay the brothel off for their guy.
Akatsuki must've been a wealthy organization, it just seemed that way to Saya anyway. So a couple of thousand yen wouldn't have been a problem.
But…
But rather than pay off a few call-girls, she was sure Uchiha and Hoshigake would just barge into the brothel and rip the guy apart in mid-screw.
That mental image made her cringe as well.
Saya glanced again around the room inconspicuously.
Perhaps she could make a deal with the woman before her, she seemed reasonable enough.
"Mistress-"
"Please, call me Chou." She interrupted with a velvet voice.
"Chou," Saya began again with a grin, "How would you feel about a little bet?"
The woman Chou raised a petite brow, her smile widening at the mention.
"What kind of bet?"
Saya's eyes locked on the picture in the back, focusing on the dice.
"How about a game of Chō-Han?" Saya swept her gaze back to Chou, the grin settling on a soft but crooked smile.
Chou's own smile reflected something wicked as she left out a puff of smoke.
"Gambling, is it? I hate to tell you, but I've never lost a bet." Her smile thickened. "What are the stakes?"
"The stakes are your customer. If I win, I get your cooperation in capturing him tonight during his reservation." Saya strode forward a few steps, stopping just before the table.
"And what if I win? What could you possibly have to offer?" Chou settled her pipe on the arm of the chair, her eyes electric as she waited for Saya's answer.
"If you win," She paused, staring Chou in the eye. "If you win, I'll owe you three times the amount of money you get from Matsuko in a month." Saya regarded Chou defiantly. "So, do we have a deal?"
The mistress smiled up at her fondly.
"Yes, we have a deal."
"The mistress is known widely for her good luck at gambling, Sayuri-san." Susuki informed her. "It's not a very good idea to bet against her."
"A little late to tell her that, isn't it Susuki?" Hisoka rudely pursed her lips, giving Suzuki a knowing look. Susuki shrugged playfully, as if she hadn't the faintest idea what Hisoka was implying.
"Good, then let's get started, shall we?" Saya sat at the tables edge, sweeping her knees beneath her and setting her forearms on the wood. "Two out of three?"
"Fine." Chou glided up from the couch, settling herself across from Saya and taking one cup into her palm.
"Whatever, I'm going to my room." Hisoka turned to leave, but Susuki caught her again by the scruff and dragged her to the end of the table, between the two competing women.
"Na-uh, Hisoka. There's no way we're going to miss this." She said heatedly.
"I don't give a damn! You watch, but leave me out of it!" Hisoka squirmed to escape Susuki's clutch, but to no easy avail. She was cemented in her spot next to the table, so with a huff, she rolled her eyes to the side.
"I'm so excited!" Susuki cheered, still holding Hisoka in place.
"So, are you ready Sayuri-san?" Chou placed two dice into the simple cup, her eyes slit beneath thick lashes.
Saya looked confidently back at her, her smile just a tad strained.
"Just throw the dice, Mistress Chou."
Chou gave her a coy smile, her hand caressing the cup, twirling the clattering dice within.
"So be it."
The dice noisily rolled around, clacking together as they collided with one another and the resonating sound of wood against wood.
Chou never let her eyes stray from Saya's as she prepared to tip the cup.
"Your call." She told Saya.
"Cho." Saya said firmly.
Chou's eyes narrowed in glee. Tilting over, the cup spilled the dice onto the table, both of which twirled and danced until settling on their destined digits.
"It's Sayuri-san's win." Susuki said aloud, referring to the dice, one that revealed a two and the other six. Chou continued to softly smile as she collected the dice once again. Hisoka trained her eyes back to the table, watching but disinterested all the same. She didn't really care for the outcome of the game, either way there was no realy benefit for her, and as long as she got paid, she could care less who did what.
"You can call again, Sayuri."
Saya watched her jiggle the cup in little jitters.
Should she call an even, or odd? Would she have the same luck to land two evens twice, or will it switch now that it had already been thrown?
"Han." She decided.
The dice spilled out onto the table again.
Damn.
"Cho. Mistress wins."
Hisoka loosened her arms grip on herself, instead placing a palm on the surface of the tables edge. She rolled her tongue in her mouth and licked her lips, tapping the tips of her fingers along. If only there were more people here, she could bet on her mistress and earn some dough. Then again, just about everyone knew how terribly lucky she was; after all, Chou was known as the Lady Luck of Omashu.
Susuki rolled her eyes back and forth between the two players, knowing her mistress would definitely win.
Saya pushed back a chuckle, her eyes looking up at the mistress. She guessed that fate was having a bit of fun with her, shaking her nerves. If worst came to worst, she wondered if she'd have make a break for it, or some how wriggle her way out of owing money she knew she couldn't earn.
Her smile twitched.
Well, earn fairly that is.
Never the less, it would take her time to even dream of making half the amount she betted, and she was sure neither Hoshigake nor Uchiha would be very patient.
And the worst part was, she wouldn't actually go back on her word. A bet was a bet, and the last thing Saya was, was a liar.
"You can pick again, if you like." Chou cupped the open end of the mug with her hand, jostling it at each side of her head.
"Han."
The mistress gave an open-mouthed smile and paused in her shaking.
"So be it."
"I told you I never lose."
Yeah, so….
Saya never had been much of a gambler.
Her luck just wasn't what most would call…
Abundant.
Saya sat with an exasperated frown on her face before the three women.
"How about five out of six?" Saya offered.
"No dice." Chou replied, a pipe now cradled between her fingers and lit.
"Sucks for you, bakka." Hisoka said and watched Saya lean back on her hands, her eyes on the ceiling.
"Hoshigake's gonna kill me…" She mumbled, a sigh filled with exhaustion.
"Who's gonna kill who?" Susuki piped, looking between Saya and Chou expectantly. "What, is he your boyfriend or something?" Saya's face made her guess again. " Or worse, your husband?"
Saya gave her a look that could freeze Hell.
Instantaneously.
"No." She answered bluntly. "He's my pet fish."
Susuki gave her a quizzical look, wondering why her fish would kill her, but keeping quiet all the same.
After all, what kind of pet fish could kill it's owner?
She highly doubted Saya had a pet shark.
Saya's thoughts wandered for a moment, the idea of paying the mistress back stabbing at her skull. The stabbing only worsened when she remembered that it was her own fault for getting into this mess. She could have done the smart thing, and simply reported back to Hoshigake and Uchiha with her findings, then let them make the master plan to catch this hic.
But no.
As usual, she'd wanted to look cool and make an impression. To be able to dazzle them with her astounding wits and flash her suave charm.
Ha.
What a laugh.
Look where that got her.
"A weary wanderer can never sigh, she cannot breathe, she cannot cry. For if she should express one breath, she'll find herself a lonely death." Saya muttered under a heavy tongue. "The strain to keep, and kept in piece is all that drives her on her feet. And if she let's out just one sigh, she'll have to fall and slowly die."
Hisoka and Susuki ogled at Saya.
"Tell me, where did you hear that poem?"
Saya looked back to the mistress who had voiced her question, a curious expression on her face. Saya tiredly replied.
"I make it up as I go along. It helps me release pent up aggravation, I guess." She shook her head.
"I'll bet you've had a long life for someone so young." Chou said slowly. "Your voice sounds heavy, and tired as well."
"You can't be much older than me." Saya rejoined. Chou gave her a coy smile, holding up a hand to her lips.
"You flatter me, but I am much older than I look." She waved to herself and took a long inhale. "However, my age is not what concerns me." Saya raised a brow. "Tell me," Chou said with a mischievous quirk of her lips, "Are you any good at riddles?"
Hisoka blanched while Susuki beamed.
"Not again." Hisoka sighed.
A lie.
A lie is an Untruth, not So or Being.
You intently shove a sweet venom of these fiends down my throat.
As if jabbing my untrusting mouth with a scalding poker.
It burns, oh it burns, and blisters the flesh of my esophagus.
Bleeding and searing the tender flesh.
It tears open and the lies drip down, cascading past the muscles of my throat and collecting around my heart.
There the lies fester.
The larvae of falsities wriggle deep, creating cavities of uncertainty deep within my soul.
So now…
Even the obvious is doubtful.
And I can no longer believe in fairytales.
A lie.
A lie that slowly thickens in the veins of reality, tarnishing, then rusting all that was once true, and rotting it from the inside out.
The blood that pumps through and through, the heartbeat leading it through a dance of illusions and naught.
This is a lie.
Saya has learned what a lie is, and what it can do.
What it is capable of, and how it can change people.
What's worse is the hate and fear that drives the lie.
The motivation behind the disgusting propaganda, what has made it not only come forth into being, but also what corrupted the heart that has bequeathed such a lie.
A stem from loneliness, and sadness; Fear, and hurt.
Only a degraded soul could give birth to such a treacherous lie.
And it all began with a simple, innocent thing.
A little thing, so full of hopes and things that could have been.
A thing called love.
The love turned to obsession, and soon, the obsession turned to sin.
Saya was victim of this vicious circle.
She was transformed into a ghost of the past.
Just as her village had been..
There is just one difference between the two.
Saya came back to life.
But, I think I'm getting ahead of myself.
Kisame walked beside Itachi as they made their way back to the inn, their search utterly fruitless.
A few beggars on the streets held open palms for spare change, most elderly but a few younger than Kisame himself.
The sun was beginning to dip behind the buildings, casting the ghetto in an orange glow.
"Guess we're going to have to stay an extra night."
Kisame happened to steal a look at a small merchant selling trinkets and baubles to young children.
"What did you sell to that vendor yesterday?" He asked, eyeing Itachi who held a steady gaze before him. Itachi seemed for a moment to deliberate on something before answering with a monotone reply.
"Something I no longer needed."
"Oh?" Kisame looked away. "Was it something from your life before Akatsuki?"
"Hn."
Itachi closed his eyes as a brief image of his younger brother flashed through his mind. The image was of his brother, lightly blushing, and shyly holding up something to him.
"I saved up for it. So, happy birthday!"
"Whatever, let's just get back to the room before the onna decides to do something more stupid than she's probably already done."
The image cracked, but before it could shatter, Itachi switched of the memory.
The boy Sasuke had once been would surely just be a memory.
No more would be the younger brother.
Only a shadow out for revenge.
…..
When you're hurt and scared for so long, the fear and pain turn to hate.
And the hate starts to change the world.
(Silent Hill)
*Cho-Han is a dice game.
You throw two dice, and the people playing bet whether or not the accumulated number will be even or odd.
Kusekke-chan, what Saya call's Hisoka, is just a nickname she threw at her. It refers to Hisoka's brown hair.
Ah, yes, and I sorta got a little off-put by the suffix's, so sorry if I didn't keep up with 'em. I'll make sure to do that from now on.
And thank you to that reader who took up my challenge, you're a real trooper.
Oh, one last thing:
A gypsy-pirate? That, my dear, is pure awesome at it's finest. I'm glad to know I'm portraying Saya the right way
You totally made my day.
Till sometime in the future.
~Serb