Just a Bounty.

[Kitsuné]

"... Rising up... took my chances... to survive!" faint whispers echoed in the wood, whistling passed the trees. They were not the ancient whispers of trapped souls; nor the distant screams from lost travellers... no. They were the sounds of a half-asleep Heishuro Maruchi, singing himself to sleep.

"... Eye of the... fight! Rising up... rivals..." Maruchi's breath held as his chorus was forced to cease upon the fighter's full awakening. Somewhere, something or someone had woke him. His eyes darting left and right, Heishuro rose to his feet.

Midnight had passed, but sunrise had not begun. Only visible as a crescent, the sky's silver scythe bled moonlight on the lake that meandered far off to the martial artist's right, testing his sight's limits. Realising immediately he could not see the end; he took another quick glance around. In his minor examination, nothing had attacked him... with more than little mental arguments and persistent reluctance, Maruchi began to follow the glimmering river.

Minutes down the river saw Heishuro's impatience overrun the sterling lake. Although now fully awake, he lowered himself to the grass, letting the gentle movement of the wind brush blades through his skin. Rolling over, he immersed himself in the gleaming water.

Without hesitation his lungs collapsed, constricting what little oxygen that burrowed into his body. Maruchi flailed helplessly in the water, disrupting the water with random movements; sudden and desperate.

Minutes passed with the same exhausting rhythm keeping his chin caressing the surface. But fatigue was persistent. The fighter's arms slowed; his legs stopped; his eyes... closed. Consciousness deserted him, and left him to the abyss.

***

Confusion seemed to shake Maruchi awake; for the words that left his thin lips before his eyes were open were: "What happened?" Rhetorical, but a question that needed an answer nevertheless.

He had been laid down on the side of the bank, but not by the lake waves. He was too far from the lake to have been simply washed aside, no: Someone had rescued him. But before he even had a chance to ask himself the most obvious of questions, a response had preceded it.

"You're awake!" the voice was female, yet not soft. It was a firm rumble; and not one that suggested beauty. But what was more uncomforting about the voice was the tone. Any relief in the speech was plainly acted, but the disappointment was much stronger; and certainly genuine. Testing his energy, he pushed himself from the ground.

It was light now, but this did not ease him. The lake ran behind him, with the now visible woman standing directly in front.

She wore a pure white dress, not unlike a wedding dress, but the veil only covered part of her face. Her skin was unusually dark, but her nose lighter. Her eyebrows were joint in the centre, and her eyes were the same white as her dress. No hair was visible, yet Heishuro suspected some hair was tucked beyond his sight. He flinched at she took a step towards him, revealing Xuriken clutched in one of her bony hands, and a curved dagger held tight in the other.

Trusting his instincts, he leapt at her, catching her off guard and unprotected. Her weapon was sent into the ground, but the she kept hold of the nunchucks. Raising a hand, Maruchi felt his weapon fly into his palm.

Her expression changed abruptly from glee to alarm as the fighter advanced on her. Showboating his nunchaku skills, he moved Xuriken too fast for her to successfully defend herself. Before a scream could leave her lifeless mouth, fire had ripped through her body; leaving her more than charred. As her body fell limp, a scrap of paper slipped out of a previously concealed pocket. Not even bothering to fight his curiousity, he scooped up the note.

His eyes widened no later than as they struck the image; the image of himself. Covering half the leaflet was a picture of the fighter himself, with a bold "Wanted" underneath. His fingers automatically released the paper as if it were poisonous; but his eyes stayed wide with shock. Not bothering to read the details; to check the reward; not even to cram it into his pocket... Heishuro Maruchi fled, though not expecting to escape danger. He was certain danger would find him.

He was right.