Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ X ❯ Equation #1: Demon ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

By: MellyN

OOOOOOOOOOO

By: Melissa Norvell

Equation #1: Demon

OOOOOOOOOOO

Although my sword usually has a clean cut, the blood from the young man's body before me sprays through the air in a twisted artistic effect of an airbrush. I hear him let out his final scream of agony and horror before his life is cut short. I have no time to be toying with talentless brats like him. If my enemy really wants to challenge me and stop me from finding him, you would think that he'd be able to supply me with better competition. As soon as I think I'm done, here come four more of those rookie-ninja brats. They rush at me from all sides and I find myself thinking about how foolish they are to make such a rash and thoughtless decision. I have years of experience on them and rushing me will be their last mistake! Swiftly, I pull out the weapon I had been wearing around me waist- a long, pitch black chain with a kusarigama attached to the end. I swing the weapon around with my well-built arms as I maneuver it skillfully at them. I manage to get one of the little bastards in the back, now there are only three more left to hit.

I whip it around and attempt to hit another one and instead of getting him, the chain wrapped around the neck of one. I easily snap his neck and continue, as I have said before- I have no time for ninja games. I also manage to get one in the back. Now, there is only one left. He's managed to live this long so I have to give him props for not being as blatantly stupid as the others…Or perhaps I misjudge him. He could just be hanging around back and watching the mistakes of his team mates so he could gather my fighting style. Whatever the case, he won't get far. I fling my kusarigama (1) out towards him and manage to maneuver it so that the chain creates giant circles. This way if the little bastard tries to dodge, he'll get hit either way.

However, I am slightly off on my predictions. Instead of going up or down, he simply jumps through the opening I had created in the chains. What is he? Stupid? If you jump through an attack that goes up and down, there is only one opening- the middle. Alright, let's take this into retrospect. I'm in the middle, the chains are on either side…I wouldn't think about this one too hard folks- this boy either has some balls, some pride, or a lack of common sense. It really doesn't matter to me either way, considering he is going to be dead in about ten to fifteen minutes if I am lucky.

Doing what I think it natural, I pull the chains tight so that the circle I created around him would enclose on him. I am a little too late on that prediction as well. His velocity is far greater than my depth perception skills at the moment and he reaches me before I could even touch him. He thought a simple kick to the head would be all that it takes to bring me down. I'll be honest, while a kick to the face will bring a man down; it's not enough to guarantee you a win.

I call him a fool and perform a ninjutsu (1) that allows my body to temporarily become liquid and I shoot off in different directions so that I entrap him. I can hear the fear and desperation in his voice as he looks around with a wild-eyed expression. Opponents have a bad habit of getting a little annoying by acting arrogant just because they can evade one attack. They are hardly prepared for things like this. Acting swiftly, I shoot towards him in several streams that flow at high velocity and rip through his chest cavity. Hydro powered attacks can give you a great advantage whether or not your opponent has experience. Water pressure is far stronger than brute strength so it causes more damage and a considerable amount of damage at that.

The streams of water flow back in to one form and reshape themselves into my body. I gaze around at their lifeless forms as the snow falls all around me in large, bold flakes. The sweat from my body causes my baggy black pants and sleeveless shirt to stick to my skin. The fact that I wear so many damned clothes wasn't much of a help at all. Wrappings on my face are twice as hot but at the same time, protect me so I am thankful for that.

I sigh in both irritation and fatigue. I have been fighting these rookies for over three hours. This town seems to be littered with them. I guess that Hibiki really wants to find me.

"Well, that's the last of them," I state simply and hope that it's an actual true statement. I'll hate it if I have to second guess myself. My light blue eyes watch as blood drains from their forms and stains the pure white snow a vibrant scarlet. The blood running from a freshly slain body gives me comfort at times. Perhaps it makes me demented…I try not to think about it too much.

'Now, all I'll have to do is go find out where Hibiki is. Once I do that, I can solve the equation at hand…So prepare yourself Hibiki!' I thought as I concentrate on the invisible focal point ahead of me and point my sword straight in front of me as I narrow my eyes in hatred of him. I was feeling a little on my high horse from fighting all of those rookies but who could blame me? I think I deserve to at least be somewhat self-confident. Every day is a struggle and if you manage to live through it, more power to you. Besides, my occupation isn't what I'd call low-risk. The conditions are harsh and I constantly have people trying to kill me.

I can feel the snow hit the bare skin of my arms and fingers as I tie my sword back on to my back and wrap the chain around my waist. As I look around I am reminded of the condition around me. I really hate the damned snow…and I'm not exactly in a place that provides me with comfort weather due to a few incidents in the past that I'm still currently dealing with.

'It's snowing again…It always snows in the God-forsaken place. I hate the snow. I can't wait to get out of here and plan my next attack.' I think to myself as I recall how long I've been here. Three days in this village and all I see is damned snow. I head off towards a long, dirt road. The chains around my waist jingle as well as other weapons that are attached to my body at this moment in time. They are heavy but I don't mind. I'm trained to carry weights so it's not a problem, not that anyone ever worried about my condition anyway. I'm pretty much on my own on this one, as it should be. These are my problems after all.

I continuously look at the ashen sky. Damn snowflakes just don't let up, do they? It seems like every time I look up to check their falling rate, they're multiplying. Well, this is a bitch…It's too damned quiet around here. I really don't want to hear myself think right now and it's strange because any other day I would have preferred the silence.

Suddenly, I'm hit with a jolt as one image sticks out in my mind. A mound of dead bodies and heavy snow falling as a young boy stands atop of them, as if it's some sort of feat and wears a torn look upon his face. This child seems no more than twelve or thirteen in age and is of a tall and lanky build. 'I hate days like this, too many bad memories for my own good.' I think as I try to rid myself of those images. Now was not the time to be angsty about anything in the past! I must stay focused! Who knows what's hiding around the next corner? I'm getting distracted.

"Hm?" I blink a couple of times before I realize that I have been walking along the edge of the village and before me is a small bench with a trashcan and something else…What the hell is it?

As I near it, my questions are slowly answered. There are a couple of dead bodies, and what looks like a couple and a small child that is seated in the snow and wearing some pretty ridiculous attire. I stop in front of her and gaze down upon her without turning my head. As I take a deeper look, I see that there is a bloody knife in the snow and both of the older people seem like they have been stabbed.

On her knees, a suitable distance between the two of them is that girl. She looks to be only twelve or thirteen in age with a dark blue hair that was short and shaggy around her shoulders, except for two long, thin strands that cascade down her back and onto the snow below. She is wearing a long sleeved shirt that fell to her mid-thigh. It is tattered and dirty on top of that and she has no pants or even shoes. What is this stupid kid thinking? Without a word, she gazes up at me with large, deep blue eyes. As her neck extends slightly, I notice that she had on a black, cast-iron collar with large, steel spikes protruding from it. She also wears shackles on her wrists and ankles with long chains.

What the hell is going on? Not that I give a shit about this girl but something didn't seem right about this even from my standards.

Her eyes are cold but oddly hold both sorrow and happiness to them. They are so contradictory, almost as if she doesn't know who she really is or some psychological shit like that. Eh, why do I care, she's just some homeless kid off of the street. I don't have time to throw a pity-party! She smiles at me, weakly but kindly as I keep my cold sights on her.

'Pathetic little thing.' I think. 'She won't last the night here in the freezing snow and cold temperatures. She's so sickly and puny looking that it's hard to believe the little urchin it this far.'

"Hey Mister," the girl speaks to me in a surprisingly healthy voice that seemed all too happy for her predicament. Great, I stick around too long and the little brat wants to talk to me. I could have seen this one coming from a mile away.

"What is it, kid?" I ask, although I don't care what she has to say to me. I'm never going to see this kid again so I might as well regard her at least.

"I can't help but notice that we are a lot alike," she says it with such gentility and understanding that it makes me want to wretch…and yet, I find myself in a mix of emotions.

The same? How the hell are we the same? What, is she crazy? She is weak and not to mention stupid for staying out in the snow without proper clothes on. Does she honestly think I'll pity her if she thinks that we can identify with each other? She must be joking! Then again, the human side of me wonders if I truly look that pathetic in the eyes of others…If we really are the same do people look at me in that manner?

Why the hell do I care? I know that I'm at least physically stronger than her so if they do look at me that way, I can always kick their ass…or better yet, kill them…

"How the hell am I like you?" I ask, calmly as always but a little more defensively than I had intended.

Then she utters something that completely stuns me for that particular moment in time.

"We have the same eyes," the little urchin even says it with a smile!

So calmly, so simply, as if it is so obvious…

I didn't want to but my face has no choice other than to light up with shock. This catches me off guard and not many things have those types of abilities. I am so dumbfounded that all I utter is 'what' in a tone that struggles to even keep my ever-calm façade. It is definitely more emotion than I ever intended on showing anyone, let alone this brat.

"The look in our eyes is the same," the girl states again as she makes eye contact with me. I don't know why, but suddenly I feel vulnerable, as if every mask I tried to hide behind is stripped of my being and I can no longer lie to the world. I feel like a wounded heart that is cut open and bleeding, spilling its secrets to the world.

I look at this girl before me and try to gather my thoughts as many of them reel through my head at light speed. I am pathetic. Here I am, intimidated by a child. What kind of shinobi (3) was I? How can someone like her simply break through my defenses? There is something about her…I usually never judge by first impressions but the dirty little child before me seems to have a deadly talent that an assassin like myself could learn from.

The dark-haired girl giggles nervously for a few minutes and smiles at me.

'Her eyes…' I actually take a look into those sickeningly pretty eyes and ponder to myself about her cryptic phrase. 'Do I really look that pathetic? No…this has nothing to do with looking weak. I can see the pain written within the depths of her eyes. They lack luster…but most of all, they reveal something…What it is I'm not sure of but this girl is the only one who can somehow tear down my façade without even knowing me. Why do I feel as if I strangely identify with her?' I ask myself after that small fit of denial has passed. There is no denying it…She is right.

We do have the same look in our eyes.

I am that pathetic to everyone else.

Even I know it and of all the times that damn flashback reminded me of that issue, it decides to rear its ugly head now and I am purged with memory yet again.

That boy who stands on the mound of dead and prejudice cries of 'demon, demon' echo through the air in angry tones. The ever lasting image that is to be burned into my brain for as long as I live and as soon as it passes, I am back into battle with my emotions.

'I shouldn't care about this disgusting child. She's wretched and weak. What can I do with a child like this?' I berate myself into turning cold again. How dare I break to such an innocent trick! I'm being foolish.

"Why are you here and why are you dressed like that?" I then question her in a feeble attempt to change the subject.

"My parents took me here," she explains, "they were going to sell me to a man who lived here."

"You're a slave." It is more of a statement then a question. It would explain the inappropriate dress.

"I do whatever is told of me…" Then a wave of sorrow hits the tattered girl and I see her frown. Her voice is different as well. It's a low and sad tone as she speaks further. "But this time it was different. I didn't want to go with them. I don't like the men. They make me feel bad and they do things that I don't want them to do."

I ignore her sob-story. If she hates men then there's nothing I can do about it. It's purely her problem.

"You're going to freeze out here. You'll be dead by day break," I tell her coldly. Like I care about what happened to her. I don't know this kid. All I know is that she's a sex slave or some sort, and so what? Who was that to me?

"It doesn't matter. I'm free and that's all that matters- to accomplish your goals and be who you want to be." When she said that, I momentarily felt that we had the same views, at least about one thing. "Never let anyone hold you back from solving your own equations and coming up with an answer that best suits you," she smiles sadly.

The more I hear her speak, the more I begin to understand that there is more to this child then meets the eye. She has the same views as I do, and it's not common for me to find such a person considering my odd look at life and the world around me. 'Perhaps we are more alike then I'd like to think, despite my inner protests and stubborn nature.' I then ask her what her name is as my protests give in to my logic.

"My name is Nana. What's yours, Mr. Black Ninja?" The girl asks in connotation to my color choice.

"They call me, Yodomari," I introduce myself without giving her a last name. I'm not that stupid, nor am I that trusting. If people are looking for you, then you keep a low profile and divulge as little information as possible. It isn't her business anyway and she should be happy that I'm even giving her my first name and not lying to her.

"Yodomari?" She looks up at me with a blink of those innocent eyes and seems curious. "What an interesting name."

Fuck it, I'll give in to her. For whatever its worth, even if it gets me killed. "Yamatano Yodomari," the first person I had ever told my last name to and definitely the last. Why the hell did I just do that? What am I, stupid? I just gave her a vital piece of information about myself without even thinking about what I was saying!

Curse it! Curse it to hell!

"I don't want a last name, so I don't have one," Nana smiles and says it so simply. It sort of pisses me off. What the hell kind of answer was that? I give her my last name and she tells me some half-assed excuse like that? Insolent brat…Somehow I feel like I'm being tricked…or maybe it's my high defenses.

"How can you not have a last name?" I ask, my voice only reflects a small amount of irritation compared to what I'm harboring inside. I've been screwed over many times and I'm not about to take it up the ass again.

Nana stands up and lightly brushes the snow from herself. I can see that her legs are white. She had to be cold; she's just not saying anything about it. Nana looks so casual despite everything. Is she strong or oblivious?

"A last name ties you to someone. If you don't have a last name then you can't be tied to anyone," she explains.

The anger fades from my being and I find myself in thought again. 'Strange girl…'

"Let's leave this place," I tell her and she questions my phrase.

"Let's? You mean like both of us?" She asks innocently. I hate it. It makes me sound so kind and gullible. Is she mocking me?

"No, I mean me and my sixteen personalities," I remark sarcastically. Does she even need to question me on such a simple phrase? It's downright annoying. The girl should be happy that I am even including her.

"It would be very confusing to have sixteen voices in your head talking to you," Nana comments.

"Stupid girl," I utter in slight irritation. She thinks I'm serious? Give me a break.

A few moments of silence pass and I hear Nana speak again. This time her voice is serious and reserved. "I'm glad that you asked me to go with you, Mr. Yodomari, but what do you want with me?"

"What do you think I want with you?" I ask in an attempt to question her character towards men and to cover my own ass. To be honest I don't really know why I said yes. She's in no position to question me anyway…and even so, I find myself asking why I want her to tag along. Was I that low to be as lonely as to ask a child to be a cheap source of companionship?

"I know that you aren't one of those men," she assures me. "I'll gladly go with you and do whatever you want. I'd like you to be my new master."

"I don't need a slave," I remark. There's no way in hell I'll lower myself into being a modest slave master.

She blinks and I clearly see confusion in her eyes. What's with her? The girl acts like she's never had a moment in time where she had to rely on her own brain for an answer. Was she that dependant on other people? She's so damned sheltered. "No slave?" Nana asks me. I don't know if she's relieved or in anticipation of the unknown.

"You're not my slave but you will stay by my side. From now on, you'll be my personal tool. You are to do what I say and I'll use you how I wish. I have an equation of my own to find the answer to and what I need from you is neither love, nor affection or support-"

"I understand," she replies and even though the answer is quick. I believe that she truly does.

"How old are you anyway?"

"Twelve," Nana tells me simply.

"I'm twenty-two, if you must know," I don't care if she does care, I'll tell her my age anyway.

"You're twice my age," she looks around at the snow fall. The flakes are small and lighter now. "Hey, the snow is lighter now." Nana holds out her hands and catches a few stray flakes in them, despite how cold she is at the moment. What an odd child indeed.

"Aren't you cold?" I ask. Why? Because it is now bothering me that she has yet to complain about something like this. Maybe it's in her slavish nature to think that people can treat her any way they please but damn it, when she's around me she'll tell me how she feels.

"No, I can't feel anything actually," she closes her eyes as she smiles up at me.

"You say it so simply…" Does it ever occur to her that frostbite is more than an option right now?

"Why? Is it bad to say it simply?" Nana asks and by this time, I'm already walking ahead of her. I could hear her ask where we were going but I didn't answer her. She could see for herself when we got there. For a good ten minutes all that I could hear was the crunching of the snow under our feet as we walked and the distinct silence of the village. Not even birds sing here.

"Yodomari-sama (4) ?" I heard her soft, yet mature voice question after a good thirty minutes of silence passes between the two of us.

"We need to get to a place where we can get out of the weather for the night, or at least find some warmer clothes," I ignore whatever question she had and point the last statement at her directly. If she refuses to wear any other clothes than the ones she has on then she can just die for all I care.

"You look really warm though." There it is. That stupid naiveté of hers. It's hard to keep convincing myself that she is only a kid considering how mature she acts but it's irritating to deal with this constant change of logic. It's like she's schizophrenic or something!

"I mean you. I can't have you die on me right after I acquired you."

It grew silent after I said that and we simply walk through the snow for some time after that. Finally, I have some peace and quiet to myself…or at least I feel as if it is.

There is just one little problem.

I feel oddly stared at. Nana is walking close to me and I can hear her chains jingle beside of mine. Her two long pieces of hair are waving behind her as she is walking in the snow. Every time I turn my head to look at her because I feel like her eyes are boring into my soul, she closes them and smiles at me with that 'I'm a ray of sunshine' façade. It seems like she's staring directly at my face. What the hell is she looking at? Do I have something on my face? Wait…Maybe that's why she's staring at me in the first place.

'Why is she staring at me? It makes me feel uneasy.' Even though her stare isn't judgmental it makes me feel as if I'm exposed underneath all of these bandages.

"Why do you wear bandages on your face, master?" Nana asks. The question seemed innocent enough even though I felt like the upper half of my face isn't the only thing showing. Why does she have to call me that ridiculous name? I'm not her master and I don't long to be for personal reasons that I don't feel like divulging at this moment in time.

"I am not your 'master' and I have my reasons," Nana should be lucky that she's even getting that for an explanation but if I try to say something cryptic, I may confuse the poor child again and that was a headache that I could deal with. "Just leave it at that." I pressed for her to drop the twenty questions game.

"What reasons?" Nana continues with innocent curiosity.

"I said leave it at that," I warn in an emotionless voice.

"I want to see your face some day," she just has to continue this, doesn't she?

"My identity is something I wish to keep secret." If I explain it, then maybe she'll get the hint.

"I understand. I don't like telling people about myself either. It makes them not like me. Do people not like you too?" Heh, that is her logic? If you tell someone important things about yourself then they won't like you? She has issues. Besides at this point in time, I'm annoyed that she won't shut up. She is making me uneasy with all of her constant questioning.

It's not just because they are questions, it's because they are questions of a person nature and she tells me them almost as if she thinks she knows me. That's right; she thinks she knows me because she doesn't really. No one does, nor will they find out. That is an equation that will be left a mystery to the world.

I feel like a frog being dissected alive.

'Why does this kid want to talk to me so much? Maybe if I'm quiet she'll shut up.' It seems like good logic. You can't have a conversation if no one speaks and if she's crazy enough to talk to herself then let her. In the end, Nana will look like a homeless, rambling, psychopath and I'll be disassociated with her entirely.

After moments of silence were passing by she speaks to me, perhaps out of the loneliness she feels from silence.

"Am I annoying you?" She questions. Her voice seems feeble now, as if my very answer will determine what kind of mood results from it. Her voice is fragile and so are her feelings…

"Yes…" But I don't care. She can deal with it. Nana needs to learn that not everyone will care about her. Even those closest to us stab us both in the front and in the back. I see her crestfallen gaze shift to the snow below as her head tilts slightly and part of me is thinking that she's weak for allowing someone as cold as me to see such emotions.

'Finally, some peace,' I think to myself in exasperation. I hate the snow but I hate those types of questions more. Give me the damn snow, hell bury me up to my ears! Just don't speak another questioning word. The silence is nice and it's lasting a while now. I look over my shoulder to see that Nana is now a couple of inches behind me. I must have made her sad. Oh well, she can get over it and stop being such a cry baby just because I told her that I didn't want to talk to her right now.

I catch a slight glimpse of her as she looks miserable and hugs herself. Her body clearly is shuttering against the cold air. When I turn my head back towards the path ahead, I then feel the back of my head being bored in to. I know she's looking at me and I chose to ignore it. However, the more I'm ignoring it, the more I feel I should say something. My inner self seems to be screaming at me to say something that even remotely sounds like a give a shit about her. Finally, my weak feelings take me over and I stop.

"What kid?" I ask her without looking back. I can't look back now; if I do I might start going soft again.

"Nothing…"

"Liar."

I could see out of the corner of my eye the expression on her face looks like one of a child who is caught at lying. Innocent and wide-eyed with a touch of shock as if she really thinks that I can't see through lies, besides, you don't stand out in the snow for hours at a time and not at least feel cold in some way, either that or she can't feel anything and she wants to make sure she can still feel touch by hugging herself. Either way it's pathetic, really. I should make sure that she can feel something at least. If I stay close to her then my body heat should make her feel a little better. I can't be flat out sadistic to the child.

I slowly hook my arm around her small frame and rest my large hand on her narrow shoulder. She looks up at me with a half dead look that signified her cold, her sickness and her sorrow. There was something about those eyes. Those eyes that looked at me with such pain, those eyes that seem so familiar to me, the eyes that are so round and innocent and yet so full of pain it brings an interesting equation to mind- the amount of pain divided by the amount of façade would equal the thing that represents the real person beneath that train wreck of a heap. If pain is the only thing that makes us similar then when you subtract that, it would be who we really are. I am interested…if the pain is the only thing that makes us similar or are there other things that I have yet to see?

It's sickening to be this fascinated with a child.

Damn it.

She smiles under my arm and looks up at me with that nauseating look of adoration. Stop looking at me like that, kid. I am nothing to be admired. When you figure this out about me, you'll want to avoid me at all costs. Nana calls me that damned name again and the irritation rises with my blood pressure as I glare her down.

"I told you not to call me that," I warn but all the little urchin did was smile at my crass remark.

Wait…I just remembered that she has been barefoot this whole time. I can't have her walking around with no shoes. I'll have to improvise. Nana looks confused that we stopped and blinks at me a couple of times.

"What is it ma-I mean Mr. Yodomari?"

"Stand still," I command and I kneel on one knee in the snow. I am glad that I wear a lot of wrappings for once. I take the excess from around my neck and tell her to give me her foot. Nana looks confused yet again. How many times can you wear the dumbass expression before it's overused? "Just do it," I press as she gently lifts up her blistered and bruised foot. It was small, pale and cold to the touch, even by my standards and I'm wearing fingerless leather gloves. She needs something and fast. At this rate, frostbite will set in and render her helpless.

I gingerly begin to wrap it as I wind the bandages around a few times; I notice a faint blush to her cheeks. I'm not sure if it's the snow or something else and I faintly hear the first part of my name in a whisper.

Childish puppy love is so unamusing.

"Don't start feeling awkward. If you're going to stay by my side then you'll need these. We can't have your feet falling off," I comment scathingly. Anything to get her to stop looking so ridiculous and to make that damned blush go away will put me at ease. I hear Nana thank me and I look up to see her smiling calmly at me.

After both feet are wrapped and secure I pulled myself up out of the snow as the girl looks at her awkwardly wrapped feet. I imagine it feels funny and it's probably not very effective against the snow but it's better than her bare feet touching it.

"They're only temporary and will last until we can get a place where you can have some proper shoes," I state, trying to use as little emotion as possible.

"The wrappings are so warm, just like you," Nana tells me kindly as she wraps her small arms around my waist and hugs me tightly.

Warmth.

I've never felt this feeling before. To tell the truth, I don't really want it either. I push her away before the feeling can spread throughout my body. This sickening feeling of warmth and love. It's not befitting of a shinobi and as I've told her before, I do not want these feelings from her and as a child, she might not understand but she will soon. I simply tell her that we should go. The skies around us are getting dimmer as time passes and I can feel the night air settling in.

"It's getting dark; we'll have to rest in a house nearby." Most of the houses are full of corpses or are uninhabited. It won't be hard to find a suitable house. I spied a quaint little house a few feet away from us and decide that it will be our place of residence tonight. I can hear the faintest sound escape Nana's lips as my large, flat sword hits the ground in front of her. The dim lighting gives it little reflection. I tell the girl that we'll inhabit this house and she tries to explain to me that there are people in there. I tell her unemotionally that it's not important.

"They'll let us in?" She asks innocently. Not this shit again.

"It doesn't matter if they let us in or not," I smirk darkly. The adrenaline rushes through my veins at the thought of a potential slaughter. Death excites me, beyond anything and this opportunity is one that I never seize the moment to take. As an assassin, I am trained to take a life so why not enjoy this job? To see them clinging to life in front of me is a type of glory that is only befitting of an axe murderer such as myself.

I don't really see it as committing a crime; I'm more like a martyr to an unwanted and misunderstood cause. I'm the type of person you might not want to forget.

"Are you going to kill them, master?" Nana looks to me in question as I again try to forget that she calls me such a ridiculous name. I tell her 'of course' and raise my large weapon that looks much like an oversized butcher knife to point it towards the house in question.

Then, the little urchin does something that completely surprises me. She pulls out a knife that she'd hidden in her shirt and tells me that she can do it. I look at her, a little surprised that she would offer to do such a thing, not only that but she offers to do it without prejudice but it feels like she's killed before. I begin to make theories in my head as to why she would make such a decision.

Does she want to prove her loyalty to me? Has she killed before? Were those dead bodies around her because she had killed them? To tell the truth, that theory went through my head upon first meeting her. I notice that both people beside of her had been stabbed and a knife lay in the snow beside of her. All of the evidence adds up but I'll keep quiet about things that I neither care about nor find it my business of wish to know.

"Your weapons are so big. I can get them better with these," Nana then pulls out a handful of throwing knives.

"You want to kill them?" I ask, not sure what to make of anything at this moment in time.

"You saved me,” Nana tells me gently with a tender smile and soft eyes. "So I'll help you. You want me to kill, right? So I will no matter how hard it is, no matter what the guilt because you go through the same guilt. That is the only reason people have eyes like ours, master." She says it with such fluidity, as if nothing breaks her emotionally. It's like she honestly feels kindly towards it and wants to do it, either that or she's such a slave that she thinks that if she defies me that she'll get punished. "Now, let's go." Her voice sounds confident now but still retains her soft tone.

'How can she read me so well? I don't even have to say anything and it's like she knows me. I'll have to keep my eye on her. She's definitely no ordinary kid.'

To Be Continued…

NOTES:

1. kusarigama-A Japanese weapon that consists of a long chain and hook-like blade. It's used for cutting and throwing.

2. Ninjutsu- The art of being a ninja. Ninjutsu is signified with hand signs for the most part and consist of large attacks and the focus of energy to different parts of the body. It's not just in Naruto folks! This is real stuff, you can even research it.

3. Shinobi- Japanese term used for ninja.

4. -sama - an honorific used to address someone of a higher respect then -san. Nana sees Yodomari as a master figure so she calls him -sama as opposed to -san which is a term used to address someone older then you are. Teachers, parental figures and older friends are often called -san.