Chapter 8
My mood improves gradually over the next 6 days, as my hearing returns to mostly normal. I can still only hear about half as well as I should, but it's enough to make out people's heartbeats and breathing if they're fairly close by. More importantly, the buzzing is gone, replaced by an occasional high pitched whistle. I've spent the last two days trying not to jump every time I hear it because it sounds just like an arrow heading just shy of my right side, from behind me. It's annoying, but not nearly as much as the constant buzz was.
I've cooled down enough to realize I didn't actually let my uncles tell me everything they wanted to and that I may have over-reacted a little. I'm even questioning my conclusion that they wish for my brother to be the factual leader of the clan.
I'm heading back to my apartments after a bodyguard mission when I hear some noise in the Hard Master's dojo and change my heading, curious. He doesn't usually teach into the night and it is past midnight. I'm intent on knocking on the door right away and just make sure everything is all right – pointing out I'm coming back in the middle of the night being just a bonus - but what I hear stops me dead in my tracks.
The Hard Master just asked someone – Chatterbox, since he's the only one in there apart from my two uncles – whether he'd reconsider, to help lead the clan.
To think I've spent the last few days convincing myself I had been jumping to conclusions about my uncles wanting to make Chatterbox the true head of the clan… I can't actually blame the Hard Master: my brother IS an obvious choice to lead the clan.
Still, I feel betrayed. Why didn't the Hard Master formally warn me first? Why hasn't my brother refused yet? Would status change his mind about leaving? Or is he really so disgusted with my seeing ear training that he would take the head of the clan just to deprive me of it?
I'm so shocked that I've lost track of the conversation, but I do notice when the sound of my two uncles and my brother turns into the sound of one uncle, my brother and a rather good imitation of him. I can't help actively listening again: I want to know whether my brother will be able to recognize himself, and I try to convince myself that I'm not dearly hoping he will not. The last thing I need right now is for him to suddenly become good at my specialty.
My brother can't guess, and the Hard Master chuckles.
I suddenly realize I've gone from accidentally hearing a private conversation to eavesdropping on a private lesson. I clench my teeth and decide to make my presence known: I'm not looking forward to the confrontation, but it would be dishonest, at this point, not to let them know I have heard the Hard Master's offer.
I march towards the door, trying to look righteously angry and sure of myself, and feeling like a child about to confess a crime. My ears start whistling again and out of habit, I give my head a little shake in a futile attempt to stop the whistling.
The whistling doesn't stop, but the pitch changes gradually. My eyes widen and I throw myself towards the arrow in an effort to catch it: it's going fast enough to go through a wall and it's heading straight for the Hard Master.
I'm much too late. The arrow flies through the wall as though it were paper and with a sickening thud, reaches its target. The heart is pierced, and the imitation of my brother's heartbeat and breathing becomes erratic as my uncle, a man who's had just as much of a hand in raising me as my own father, starts dying. I hear the Soft Master and Chatterbox rush towards him, and I can already tell they won't be able to help.
I take off running in the direction the arrow came from, as fast as I can. Whoever did this is going to pay: all my anger at my uncle has evaporated, replaced by lust for the blood of his murderer. I wish this mission hadn't been under cover – I'd have been carrying all my weapons then, including my bow.
Just as I spot him, and before I can make out any sound he's making, a man in white with an electronically enhanced bow in his hand climbs aboard what looks a bit like a helicopter. The vehicle, unlike any helicopter I've ever seen, takes off silently in an instant. I am left staring at it disappearing above the clouds.
I curse and suddenly realize I may have missed the chance to be by my uncle's side in his final moments – all for nothing since I didn't catch the assassin or even got close enough to identify him. I rush back to the Hard Master's dojo, but the voice of the Soft Master stops me before I even get to the door.
"...could shoot with such precision? Who else would have access to his arrows? The Young Master's guilt would be obvious even if we hadn't seen him running away."
I sink to my knees, stunned.
"Bring him to me, alive or not. The rest of the clan will receive the same instructions," the Soft Master finishes.
His tone leaves me no doubt that if I am indeed brought to him alive, he will kill me the second I arrive. The first thought that strikes me is that if I die, the real murderer will live.
I jump to my feet and run. I can't let my uncle's death go unpunished, and if I let myself be killed before I find the real murderer or at the very least clear my name, that is precisely what will happen.
I don't know whether it was only luck or whether my uncle assisted me from the spirit world, but I manage to escape the compound without being seen.
My situation sinks in when I stop running.
My uncle has been murdered. The Hard Master is dead, gone. I've lost him, and I've also lost the rest of my family: if I ever see any of them again, they will try to kill me because they are convinced I'm the murderer. I am the only one who knows anything at all about the real assassin, and what I know amounts to next to nothing: my quarry has access to silent helicopters.
In short, I have close to no chance of ever finding the archer, yet I'm the only one who can avenge my uncle because everyone else is going after the wrong person: me.
I spend the rest of the night doing not much more than feeling sorry for myself, roaming the streets because I don't dare stop moving and rest.
The next three days are a daze. I feel like I've been spending most of my energy just not falling apart. I've narrowly escaped members of my clan three times in the past 48 hours. Two of those times, it was my brother I had to hide from.
My pain has mutated into cold rage, and although I want nothing more to do with what is left of my family, I'm even more determined to kill the man responsible than I was the night my uncle was murdered. For one thing, the recent actions of the rest of the family are no fault of his and he deserves to be avenged. Secondly, I crave vengeance for myself as well. Finally, I want to clear my name so I can refuse it to them when my uncle and my brother beg for my forgiveness.
On the fourth morning after my uncle's death, I wake up in a refuge. I don't even remember falling asleep, and much less seeking shelter. I can only assume that some stranger found me passed out on the street and brought me here.
Until, that is, I notice a small note stuck to my chest. I unstick it and I have to read it four times before the reality of it fully hits me.
The note is short: "My debt is paid." It is signed, uselessly since I recognize his hand, by my brother.
He was the one who found me, but instead of killing me in my sleep or bringing me to the Soft Master, he brought me here, sparing my life. The debt he is referring to is from when I saved his life in the war. The important part of the message is that I'm only alive because he wanted to pay his debt - which is now done - and that he has nothing at all to say to me other than that.
The fact he left a note at all means he wanted me to know he didn't owe me anything anymore. Succinct as it is, the note, by its very presence, is an official disowning and a death threat, all wrapped in four words.
"My debt is paid."
I wanted to kill you, but I owe you my life. Now that I've spared you, I owe you nothing anymore. I have nothing else to say to you because you are not my brother, not my friend. You are nothing but a murderous traitor, and the next time we meet, I WILL kill you.
I snarl at the note and rip it to shreds. That settles it. I will never forgive this false brother, no matter how much he begs me.
Even though it almost cost me my life, sleeping has at least cleared my head enough for me to figure out my next move. I need to find out who owns noiseless helicopters and would use them for murder.
I leave the refuge and walk to the nearest library. I sit at one of the computers and start searching.
It turns out the silent helicopters will be a surprise to everyone: all I can find is talks of prototypes and hopes that a working one will be completed sometimes in the next decade.
I start looking for rumours on secret technology belonging to major world governments. It seems to me that if anybody has technology nobody knows exists yet, it is likely to be the government of one of the most advanced countries. It takes me a while, but I finally find a reference to the helicopters, although it isn't quite the one I expected.
If you believe the conspiracy theorists, there was one prototype built, and it was stolen by Cobra a few weeks back. I give the screen such a glare that I scare the person sitting next to me, who hurriedly leaves.
Cobra is the name of the hissing man's organization. The same man who tried to make me kill soldiers and who caused my ear injury is the one who framed me for the murder of my uncle. I can't imagine why he'd be so stupid as to make me his enemy and at this point, I don't care: as far as I'm concerned, he's signed his own death warrant and that of whoever he hired to do the actual deed.
I start searching for Cobra, but not surprisingly, they don't advertise themselves on the net. I'm going to have to do this the old fashioned way.
I spend the rest of the day tracking down and talking to every one of my more colourful acquaintances. Being a wage earner for a clandestine ninja clan does put one in contact with some interesting characters, and most of them I wouldn't trust with a pet rock. I tell them all the same thing: I am looking for Cobra, but they cannot tell anyone. They all swear to me that they have never heard of Cobra and that they will not communicate my whereabouts to my clan.
The flip side of this plan is that I have to keep dodging members of my clan, who are constantly getting tipped off as to where I am. The good side is that by night-time, a man clumsily tries to shove me into a car bearing the Cobra logo. I get in the car of my own accord, he stays on the pavement with three broken bones for his trouble.
My once client is in the car, wearing the same smooth metal mask as before. With him is another masked man. This new man's mask is metal as well, but shaped to imitate a face. I'm not sure which mask I find creepier.
Both men have their weapons aimed straight at me. I make myself comfortable and stare at them, doing my best to hide any emotion – specifically, the urge to rip them apart. I need to get the name of the actual assassin first.
"You have been looking for us, Mr. Ninja," my old client says.
I nod.
"You want to know who killed your uncle," he continues.
"Do you have that information?" I ask him. I know he does but I play dumb. He's not likely to tell me anything if he realizes that I hunted him with the knowledge he is responsible for the whole thing.
"Yes," he confirms, "and I am the only one who does."
"Was he acting under your orders when he killed the Hard Master?" I ask.
The man hesitates. Perhaps because he thinks their guns can protect him, he eventually answers.
"Not quite," he says. "I did send him, but he killed the wrong man. The student was the intended target, which I don't suppose endears me to you anymore than if I really had targeted your uncle."
I shrug. I'm so angry with my brother right now that I honestly don't care. I cannot forgive him for thinking me a murderer and for trying to bring me to my uncle to be summarily executed. I saved his life in the war, I invited him here, and he's repaid me by replacing me in my uncles' hearts and by hunting me.
"As I was saying, I am the only person who knows who your uncle's murderer is. Even he," he nods towards his companion, "doesn't know."
I roll my eyes. I'm not interested in playing games.
"Tell me who did it," I demand. "You do not want me as an enemy."
The fact that I'm being incredibly hypocritical in leading him to think he might survive this barely touches my mind. He deserves nothing better.
"Indeed I don't," the man replies. I can hear the smile in his voice and it sends a chill down my spine.
"I will deliver the killer to you," he continues. "For a price."
To get my quarry, I'm quite ready to steal whatever amount of money he wants. It's not like he's going to have the time to enjoy it much.
"Name your price," I say.
"Well, you see, that man is a valuable asset to my organization."
The other man nods.
"Name your price," I repeat in a snarl.
The man chuckles. I shiver, causing his companion to chuckle too. His mask molds his face so closely that the metal moves like flesh.
"The price is your soul," my former client says. "Oh dear, that sounds so melodramatic, doesn't it? I do apologize, it's just one of these things I've always wanted to say."
He starts laughing, but I have a nasty feeling he is absolutely serious.
"What do you mean?" I ask him.
He stops laughing just as abruptly as he started.
"I want you to work for me. You are a prodigy, thought to be the best in your generation right until your former friend bested you. I do not normally settle for second best, but in this case, I'm willing to make an exception."
I swallow and clench my teeth. I absolutely do not want to do anything that would benefit him or his organization. At the same time, I can't just let go. I need to know who the killer was. I need to avenge my uncle and I need vengeance for myself. I can't be satisfied with the killer's employer only, especially now that I know said employer never targeted my uncle in the first place. Blood for blood: the archer who impersonated me to murder the Hard Master HAS to die.
"He'd prefer to keep running until his family finds and kills him," the second man says, interrupting my thoughts. "Your associate will be relieved: with this kid gone, he'll be home free. Nobody else even suspects the 'Young Master' was framed."
The speech is obviously prepared, but the point is made anyway.
"You think I cannot possibly find the murderer without your help," I say, trying to sound amused.
"What does it matter what I think?" the hissing man says, laughing again. "The question is, what do YOU think?"
What I think is that I'm doomed either way. I've only caught a glimpse of the killer's shape, and I didn't hear him. He was in his helicopter by the time I was close enough to pick up his heartbeat and once he was inside, all noise coming from him had stopped, blocked by whatever it is that makes the helicopter silent.
I wouldn't recognize him if I bumped right into him.
What's more, my only clue led me to an organization that employs or contracts out to thousands of criminals: I have absolutely no way to know which one of those thousands is the one I want, and I have no intention of spending the rest of my life futilely trying to track down and assassinate every last one of them. I'd never find the right one, especially not while running from my clan, especially not in what limited time I may have until they catch me. My choices come down to giving up on vengeance and on my life, or accepting Cobra's offer. If it was only my life, I'd choose to preserve my honour and refuse, but I cannot give up on vengeance. I cannot let my uncle's murderer go unpunished.
"Tell me more," I say.
"I want five years of unrelenting loyalty," he hisses. "You will do everything I ask, without hesitation, and you will be my personal bodyguard. You will value my life more than your own, and you will put no value at all on any other life than my own. Not even those of my associates. I want complete devotion and I want it for me alone."
"Your price is too high," I say. I put my hand on the door handle, intent on jumping out and hoping they shoot me before I do. If I'm going to die without getting my revenge, I'd like it to be as soon as possible and I'd much rather it be at the hands of someone else than my own family.
"I never said we could not negotiate at all," the man says.
I turn to him and wait. My hand is still on the handle.
"Let's start with what YOU want," he says.
I don't need to think very long to find one condition that would make serving him merely miserable rather than intolerable. I tell him. He rolls his eyes.
"For crying out loud, you're a bloody ninja! Whatever. Fine," he says. "I have plenty of men who can do that. But it does make you much less valuable. Half less, I would say. Ten years."
I can't pretend the delay doesn't bother me, but having the killer in ten years still beats never having him. I let go of the handle and sit back down.
Author's Notes:
Fans of the Marvel Comic Books will have noticed a rather big diversion here: rather than join Cobra with the hopes of climbing in ranks and eventually being deemed trustworthy enough to have access to the information he seeks, Storm Shadow will be on a very well defined contract.
I think within the context of this story, this alternative is more believable. For one thing, I can't imagine my particular version of Storm Shadow having enough patience to wait indefinitely. He'd need to know exactly when he'll get what he wants to stick with Cobra.