Nikushimi

Well, it's been over a year since I've done any honest writing, so I figured I'd give it another go. I was just recently inspired by another fanfic and wanted to try my own hand at writing once more, and I do want to see if I've gotten any better at it. This story won't be especially long, in fact, probably only a few chapters, but I want the chapters to be a little long and full of exquisite detail (this first one, however, is rather short). Also, I promised this a while back. It's a small piece about Kisame's past, and I'm doing this partly to improve my writing skills and also to see how much I've improved already.

Now, I'll try not to get too graphic, as I do hate gratuitous violence. But this IS Kisame we're talking about. It ain't gonna be pretty.

Without further ado, I present to you the story of Hoshigaki Kisame, Kiri no Kaijin (Phantom of the Mist):




Chapter 1- Kaijin


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A calm sea, a silent sky.
A flash of teeth, a hungry blade.
Indeed, a fierce storm
Approaches...



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Night.

Such a curious thing it is, a contradiction in and of itself. When the light flees and the darkness takes control, when that which lives dies... Yet in this ghostly solemnity there remains the silky, ethereal glow of a lifeless moon, as if to say even night itself feared true darkness. A true abyss, in which only one's self can be defined. When the unseen world is left to the mercy of every demon and phantasm that haunts one's mind. What greater terror exists than that which is both malevolent and faceless? When there is no word, no feeling, no recognizeable facet of something that observes you from the darkness, what can be done but to fear it? And if such a thing bore ill intentions...what could be done to stop it?

This night had started out particularly ominous, as the sky lay completely bare from East to West, North to South. The moon poured out its otherworldly light, as if defensively, illuminating the way for those who found themselves patrolling the courtyard of his Lordship, the Daimyou's fortress. Indeed, that is what it was- a fortress, armed to the roof and surrounded by guards. The only way in or out was down a dirt path that extended far into the forest, flanked on either side by golden fields of wheat that shone brilliantly on this clear night. The only other opening in the fortress was the courtyard itself, a large, open, tiled plateau that faced the sea. A lavish fountain stood as the centerpiece, trickling water at a pace that produced a soothing babble. The hour was without name, as if this were some undiscovered time, never before seen by mortal men. It was too serene, too perfect...and far too late. One of the six active guards in the entire complex sat in the courtyard, chin rested on his hand, elbow rested on the balcony facing the sea. His head bobbed up and down with the opening and closing of his eyelids, and he awoke with a start when a sharp pain bit into his right arm.

"Idiot." chided another guard, lowering his fist and casting a stern glance at the weary fellow, "Your shift ends, and you can't help but nod off a minute beforehand? C'mon. It's my turn now, so go get some rest."

"H-huh? What?" the tired man stuttered drunkenly.

"You heard me. Your shift's over. Besides, you'd just end up falling asleep and taking a turn over this here balcony if you spent another minute up here."

That last bit startled the guard awake, and with all the willpower he could muster, he staggered away from his fellow guard, allowing him to take up his position. He couldn't help but feel a little guilty, though. He could tell the other man was just as tired as he was, though he wasn't showing it. But sleep was too tempting, and fatigue beckoned him. He turned away with full intent to collapse in bed, but then, the surprised voice of his peer snapped him once more back to consciousness.

"What the hell?!" the guard hissed through clenched teeth, staring intently at a fog bank rolling in from the sea, "Where'd that come from all of a sudden?"

"It's probably nothing." the dreary guardsman replied, hoping to assuage the other's worries and indulge himself in a good night's rest, "It just looks like fog to me. We get that all the time in the Water Country, so I don't see why it's anything to get so worked up about."

All of a sudden, the fog made a beeline shoot for the complex. It hit with expected softness, glazing right over everything and dispersing into a fine haze. Instinctually, the active guard's hand was led to the kunai pouch at his right leg. With a quick glance to his right and left, he determined that no one had tried to enter under the cover of the fog. His fellow watchdog snickered childishly at this insecure display.

"Perhaps you need some sleep yourself. Maybe you should get one of the others to fill in for you this one time."

To his surprise, he was met with neither anger nor wit. Rather, a flash of pale struck across that man's face, his eyes averted beyond the sleepy guard himself. It was only a fraction of a second later that he understood why. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it. To the other guard, he could see an outline, and little more- the shape of a man, tall in stature, with some great object rested upon his right shoulder, a single foot propped up on the cement rim of the large fountain. Two eyes gleamed forth from the mist, and as the one man turned, a shimmer of pointed teeth followed. There was a sound of splitting wood and tearing flesh, and all but instantly there came a crimson spray shooting up and sparkling against the moon. The figure lowered its massive object- Had it ever raised the thing in the first place? -and issued a sadistic chuckle that carved sensations down the guard's spine. The man who stood before him not seconds ago lay torn on the ground, no longer truly resembling a man.

Then came the scream...

Hands grabbed desperately for any weapon that could be found. The guards filed one after the other into the courtyard as the alarm sounded. As the misty, moonlit yard filled with guards on each side, their eyes fell upon two silhouettes. The larger of the two wrenched back a large shadow, casting a trail of blood and flesh across the ivory tiles at its feet. The other dropped to its knees and fell flat on its face. The guards stared on in horror, preparing themselves as best they could for what they were about to to be confronted with. What greeted them from the darkness, the only thing that betrayed mutual acknowledgement, was a sharp-toothed grin...

Three guards ran quickly to the Daimyou's quarters and woke him with the utmost haste. This was much to his disliking. He fussed at first and condemned their actions, but after hearing of the situation his attitude changed completely. It was all he needed to get dressed immediately and leave his room. It was all he needed to run down the hallway and gather up his family. That one word... That word that had become synonymous with "all-encompassing death" in the Country of Water...

"Kaijin."

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Blades resounded as they hit the floor. Bodies crashed with sickening force against bare stone. One wave after another was cut down, each with a single swipe of that terrible blade. Reinforced by their loyalty to the Daimyou, half a dozen guardsmen charged forward with kunai drawn, roaring as they sprang upon the enemy. Their efforts proved in vain, as yet another swing cleaved through their numbers. The fresh batch of dead tumbled to the ground- death had been dealt upon contact with the strike, long before the brutal roll across the tiled floor. The total number of guards was now diminshed by a third of its former capacity, and those that remained began to reconsider what was worth dying for and what wasn't. Unfortunately for them, this was not a choice left to their own discretion. For those who face the Kaijin, death is a certainty.

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"Daimyou-sama, you will be safe." assured one of his guards as they stood before a horse-drawn carriage, "The entire guard force is fighting as we speak to buy us time. I promise you, we will get you out of here."

"I will see to it that your bravery does not go forgotten." the Daimyou said firmly, stepping into the carriage with the rest of his family, "You and the others will be rewarded most handsomely."

A quick glance at the faces of his wife and children bore him nothing but looks of fear and uncertainty. With a nod of his head, he stepped in and allowed the guard to close the door behind him. A few seconds passed, yielding nothing but greater anticipation. Time was limited. With great impatience, the Daimyou opened the carriage once more.

"What in the hell are you waiting fo-?!"

He fell just short of completing his inquiry. On the ground lay the mangled body of the guard, stained with a deep red that dribbled out into the dirt. Not a meter from it, a pair of feet, leading up to a pair of beady, shining eyes. All at once, the Daimyou's mouth went dry and he broke into a cold sweat. He gripped the doorframe of the carriage with trembling hands and shrunk back against the will of his stiffened body, his jaw quivering as he attempted to speak.

"N-no... Please..."

The horrific demon raised its instrument high in the air and gave a slight laugh. It was a peculiar laugh. It was neither sadistic nor maniacal, but truly, deeply, and sincerely...delighted.

With one swing, it was all over...




<To be continued.>




(Writer's Note- It helps me to picture the events of this chapter while listening to "Remember" by Disturbed. Just though that'd kinda help paint the picture a bit better and get the mood going. It works best if you start it at Kisame's appearance. :D)

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