Untitled (as of now hehe)

Chapter 1 (UNNAMED)

Training Grounds, Japan. Dawn.
“Get up.”
I cough, blood mixing with my tears. I lay on the ground, gasping for breath. I try to move my arms but I’m too tired. The footsteps of Yeron shake the ground as he walks towards me. I close my eyes and try again to get up. I manage to get a few inches off the ground before I collapse and fall back onto my face. Blood sprays everywhere as I hit the dirt again. I think I may have just broken my nose. Yeron stops next to me.
“Get. Up.” He repeats his order again.
He’s harsh, but I know he cares about me. He wants me to accomplish my dreams, though I lost hope years ago. But he won’t let me stop pushing. Until the end.
I close my eyes. I’m pretty sure that I’m now swimming in sweat, blood, and tears. But I have to do this.
For him.
For me.
Slowly, I get to my knees, gasping for breath, my head leaning against the wooden cylinder I use as a training stick. My hand finds the top, and I half pull myself up before slumping back to my knees.
“It’s alright if you can’t do it.” His words bite. He knows I won’t let him insult me like that. But he also knows that the only way to prove him wrong is to get up. He plans his sentences perfectly. Each word has a meaning, each syllable portraying his emotions. His voice is the only gateway to his inner self. And most people can’t recognize it.
Something I always found strange about him was the fact that his emotions were concealed, so I couldn’t get to them.
Somewhere along the line, I learned to recognize the different tones in his voice. Nobody recognizes it.
Besides me. And maybe him.
But no matter what, I will prove him wrong, if it’s the last thing I do.
I grab the top of the training block again. The pools of blood now collecting there don’t help with grip, either. I slowly move from my knees to a bent-over position, my eyes clouded with blood. I somehow get to my feet, but my weight is still on the training stick. He grabs my hand, calmly pulling me up in that certain way, so I have no choice but to lean on him.
“Good job.”
I gasp inwardly – it’s too hard to open my mouth and give the full effect, though my eyes do pop a bit.
Coming from Yeron, this is really high praise. Like I just saved the world. I try to say something in response, but all that comes out is a mumble.
“Let’s get you home.” His voice has softened. I can only drop my full weight on him. Then I’m speeding through the air, being set down on the ground. Blackness finally overtakes me as I pass out.
“No. Absolutely not. There’s no wa–” Yeron’s voice cuts through the blackness.
“Yeron, please!” another man’s voice. One I can’t distinguish. “You must understand! She – the thing is –” My eyelids creak open. First shadows, then the full image spins into view. Yeron stands in the shadows near the window, a sliver of light crossing over his face. He’s angry, more so than I’ve ever seen before.
“Yeron, you must understand! She – it – is a demon!” I identify where the other voice is coming from - a short, squat man in a white robe, standing at the door. His voice drops. “It is the fact of the matter, Yeron. You have no choice but to accept it.”
Yeron steps forward. “Do I, now?”
The other man steps backwards until he collides with the door. He seems to be a monk.
“Leave. Now.” Yeron’s voice is commanding, the threat etched so deep into his voice that I’m sure the man can understand it.
Yeron steps forward again. “Don’t make me tell you again, Bu.” The monk’s hand twitches, and silver flashes through the air. Seconds later, the monk lays on the ground, and Yeron slowly removes his hand from where it covered his heart, a knife falling to the ground at his feet. The monk scrambles up and races for the door, slamming it behind him. Yeron picks up the knife and inspects it. Even from across the room, laying on my side, I can see a clear liquid dripping from the point.
“Poison.” spits Yeron, starting towards me. I halfheartedly pretend to be unconscious again, but he knows, and stops beside me, crouching down in front of me. He taps his fingers on the wood, waiting for me to stop pretending.
“Did he get you?” I ask immediately, though my question is answered by the long, metal guards on his arm that stretch to his fingers. He can still bend his fingers, but the guards protect them when they’re outstretched – it’s amazing. He’s kept the guards on all this time.
“Please don’t insult me, Chiyoni. It’s bad enough with that pest Bu.”
I nod and stare up at the ceiling. An insect flies into a spider net, and the spider makes quick work of wrapping the fly. My thoughts whirl. It seemed like the monk was talking about me, but that can’t be right – I’m no demon!
My eyes must have said it all, because Yeron looks at me, his own eyes seeming to laugh at me.
“So you heard, then.” The room suddenly feels so still. “What he said about you.”
I shake my head. “N-no…”
So that man – Bu – he really was talking about me.
Why do I have the feeling that he knows how much I heard? It’s as though he can read my thoughts.
He stands up. “Chiyoni.”
It’s his way of telling me that he knows exactly what I heard. It’s almost impossible to imagine that in a single word, he can convey so much. Or maybe I’m getting too good at reading his emotions.
“Am I really… a…” I start, but can’t finish. I sit up, staring at the straw.
“A what?” Yeron’s voice is sharper. He turns to me. He knows what I’m about to say, but he wants me to say it.
“A… demon.” I whisper the words, staring intently at the straw.
He lifts my chin with his fingers. “Chiyoni.” His voice… “Don’t let people tell you what you are. You’re no demon. Believe in yourself, and you will accomplish anything.”
I look down again.
“It’s just… I always tried to fit in, but I never could…” I trail off.
“Chiyoni!” He almost shouts the word. “Look at me!”
My head snaps up, my eyes wide. Yeron never raises his voice at me. “Don’t try to fit in. You’re special, Chiyoni. You may have a demon trapped inside you, but not to me, not to you. Do you understand me?”
I nod, my eyes wide.
“Good.” Yeron says, calming himself, and looking towards the door. “We should go now.” He stands up and starts walking to the door. “It’s time to train.”
I stand up, anxious to know one more thing.
“Yeron? Is that why my wounds heal so fast? Because I have a demon inside me?”
He looks down at me. “Yes… or it’s because I heal you.” He pauses for a moment. “Get your body-guard on, then meet me in the sunlit woods. You know the place.” I nod. “Where are you going?” Yeron pulls up his mask, something I’ve only seen him do when he’s about to do something dangerous. He opens the door and steps outside. “Oh…. just around.” He closes the door and leaves. I run to the window, and watch as he steps into the open. With a flash of light, Yeron disappears.
I sigh and turn from the window. I’ve been training to do that for ages. Jumping into the air so quickly that you can seem to disappear and appear somewhere else - the stronger your legs, the farther you can go. I grab my full-body-guard - metal plating for my lower leg, and guards like Yeron’s for my forearms. I pull on my overlay – a thin black cloth, just enough to cover my guard. I check for my mask, grab my pouch of weapons, and hurry out the door. Somehow training can fix anything. Even if you are a demon.
I stop in the same place Yeron did, leaping into the air. I seem to disappear as a swirl of wind pushes against me, and I fall to the ground. I look behind me - 10 feet away, where I just stood. I have to do better if I'm going to get anywhere in my training. I stand up and start towards the forest, breaking into a run. It’s the first time Yeron has asked me to get on my full body armor in… forever. I can’t for the life of me figure out why, so I just concentrate on moving quickly towards the training area.

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I jump the last hurdle, and fall onto my hands and knees, gasping for breath. One of the first things Yeron taught me was, when jumping from high distances, to land on my hands and knees. It distributes the weight of my body more evenly. I stand up quickly, and look up. A man stands in front of me, arms folded, at least 12 others behind him. They look down at me and I return their gaze. Yeron steps forward to stand beside the man.
“Yeron. Where are they? We’re wasting time.”
Yeron looks at me with warning before answering. “She’s here.”
The man’s eyes betray disbelief, though I can tell he’s trying to hide it. “You’re telling me… that it’s her?”
“Yes.” Yeron says, carefully monitoring his tone.
My hand drifts toward my pouch of weapons, and I clip a knife from its section, holding it discreetly behind my back. I have the feeling I’m going to need it.
The man shrugs as though indifferent. “Let’s see what she’s got.” He steps back, and suddenly the other 12 men jump towards me. I whip out my knife, and jump backwards, landing on the branch of the tree. They skid to a stop, and jump again towards me. I skid to the side, and kick one in the face as he passes by. He falls to the ground. From what I’ve gathered, it seems like this is a test of my abilities. I won’t disappoint Yeron. I hurtle downwards, spinning in the air with one leg out, knocking away three more men, though they quickly recover. Darn! My kick wasn’t strong enough. I whip round and round, though the men still manage to land blows. I land on a high tree branch, gasping for breath. Whoever these men are, they’re not normal villagers. I see that I’ve managed to hit them with my knife, and many of them are bleeding, though others are recovering from my kicks. I expected them to come to me, but they stood there, presumably waiting for orders from the other man. The skeptical one.
“If you aren’t going to come to me…” I say, lifting my chin to look straight at them, “Then I’ll just have to come to you.”
I launch myself from the tree, and become a whirl of fists and legs. I don’t give them a break. When one tries to move away, I adjust my pose to constantly be hitting more than one. Soon, one after the other is dropping away, falling to the ground. I don’t have to stop to check if they’re unconscious. I finally stop, gasping for breath, and fall to my knees. Blood from a well-aimed punch flows down my forehead, and I’m really winded, though it should pass soon, especially since Yeron taught me quick recovery. I look up through half-open eyes. Darn! One man stands, hands on knees, bent over, gasping. He straightens up, and I pull myself to a half-standing position. I’d rather take the blows standing up than cowering on the ground like a beaten dog.
“Enough.” The man that stands beside Yeron holds out a hand. “Yeron, you were right. She is ready.” He turns to me. “I trust you understand the importance of your mission.”
I shake my head. “Sorry, but no. I don’t even know why I’m here or who you are, and–”
I stop after Yeron moves his eyes from side to side quickly, the signal to stop talking immediately. I stop as the man turns back to Yeron.
“What is she talking about?”
Yeron sighs. “Well, I didn’t exactly tell her what was going to happen…”
The man turns back to me. “Well, not much we can do about that now.”
Yeron’s eyes are full of warning.
The man drones on and on about an important mission. I have to protect someone.
“From who?” I wonder aloud.
The man stops talking abruptly, and clears his throat, but Yeron answers instead.
“There’s a group of people… they call themselves the Arteries.They’ll be coming not only for the one you’re protecting, but for you too.”
Our eyes meet.
“And sometimes, Chiyoni… it’s better to step back and watch.”
I nod, and some sort of feeling passes through us.
“Be careful.”
Yeron turns away, inconspicuously dropping a small bag into my hands as he does.
I want to say something in return, but I can’t find the words.
The man claps.
“You’ll board the ship in….”
He checks his watch.
“10 minutes. And remember. The jutsu’s you’ve been taught? They cannot be revealed. Now go.”
I nod, and leap into the air, seeming to disappear.

Harbor, America. Midday.
I leap off the ship before it even stops moving, landing on the dock. I remove my mask, and cover my armor before slipping into the shadows of which there are few. I carefully flick to my target, as a black car pulls up to meet me. I slip in as the driver hits the gas, and the car moves forward.

The car jerks to a stop, and the driver gets out.
“This is as far as I take you. Beyond here is where you’re going. I have to hurry if I want to make it back to the ship. Koun O.”
Good luck.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I doubt that I’ll hear Japanese for a long time.
Good luck.
The car door closes, and the vehicle moves away.
My last connection to home, gone in a heartbeat.
I wrinkle my nose. The smell of cigarettes is thick in the air. At least I think it’s cigarettes - I’ve only smelled them once before.
It was part of my training - identifying smells can help you distinguish what type of person your target is.
I shake my head, and focus on my task.
I was never told who I was supposed to guard – just where they lived.
I silently move into the shadows, and start towards the person’s house.
I’m not supposed to reveal myself unless I have to.
A relatively new house. According to my information, the person I’m going to protect lives there.
They’ve just moved in.
White paint, green windows. Classic red roof – no. There’s a small hatch on the roof.
The obvious thing to do is to ignore it… but I can’t. In a moment I’m on the roof, inspecting the hatch. It’s gone through better days, no doubt. Footsteps from inside - the hatch must have a thin wooden panel separating it.
I jump back, on hands and knees, hidden behind the chimney.
The hatch opens, and I narrow my eyes. It looks like I’m going to get a look at who I’m going to protect.
My first thought is:
Boy, brown-black hair, hazel eyes. Appears to be 14 or 15 years old. Observant, obviously, or they wouldn’t have found the hatch. Weak.
Then:
Is this really the one I’m meant to protect?
I need to test him… and I have the perfect plan in mind.
I throw a decoy shuriken in front of his face. It glazes past him, a hair’s breadth away. It crashes into the roof.
He jumps back, then laughs nervously.
“Who am I kidding?” he says.
Is he really talking to himself?
If the Arteri really want him… I’m surprised he’s not dead.
And why would they want him?
If he has any skills at all he’ll get a stick to look at my shuriken… If he can’t see it already.
His eyesight must be terrible!
He shrugs, then returns inside, calling to his mom.
Seriously?
kyo
I grab my shuriken, rolling my eyes inwardly, and continue my inspection of the hatch. There seems to be another, smaller hatch embedded inside. I pull the smaller one open, and without second thought, slip inside, closing it behind me.
I have the perfect view of… a bathroom. I’ve just landed in a bathtub. It’s large and spacious, so I make an educated guess that it’s the master bathroom. I’ve heard about these, and seen pictures, but never been inside one. America has a strange culture, I suppose. I hear footsteps, and close the hatch quickly, crouching behind large, white cabinets.
Everything here is so bright.
I smell cigarettes – or is it weed? I’m not sure, and I silently curse myself for not distinguishing. A real-world example of my stupidity.
I catch a glimpse of my visitor. A man, probably the father of the one I’m supposed to protect. He stares at the mirror, laughing to himself. I wrinkle my nose in disgust as I notice the tattoos.
Who knew you could have that many tattoos? They even cover part of his neck. Disgusting. I’m starting to hate America.
He blows smoke, removing the cigarette from his mouth, and sighing. “Aaah… yeah, baby. That hits the spot…”
His words are drowned by the cigarette as he stuffs it into his mouth again. I feel the sudden urge to knock him out, but contain myself, instead slipping back up the hatch. I doubt he would notice if the world blew up.
I jump off the roof, and hurry to my next destination: my home for the next few weeks.

School, America. Morning.
“I don’t think you understand, sir. My parents are… I don’t have a–”
The assistant principal holds up his hands. “Look, I already told you. I can’t let you in without a parent!”
I grit my teeth as the door swings open. A japanese lady walks in – the principal. Her eyes widen for an instant. “Maclair, I think I’m going to need a moment with this young lady. Would you mind checking in the other students?”
The assistant principal glares at me but knows better than to argue. He turns, and slams the door behind him.
The principal waits a moment, then starts speaking rapid-fire japanese. After everything that’s happened, I can almost cry.

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Comments for this chapter

• Please do continue!!!!!

  Comment by rose on May 24, 2025

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