Broken Promise 1

A lone figure moved slowly and stealthily through the forest, there was a low crunch as leaves were trampled under his boot. Those sounds however, were rendered inaudible by the whispers and creaks of the almost pitch black forest, there was but a sliver of moonlight that slipped through the trees above. The sole traveler took precise steps along the barely visible black trails snaking through the undergrowth.

He wore typical samurai ensemble including shoulder guards, shin guards, sleeves, thigh protectors and a cushioning layer of silk underwear ect. There was a series of swirling white lines that ran all over the armor, creating some sort of pattern,this pattern stood in contrast to the rest of the dark blue suit. The samurai also wore a helmet that seemed to have some sort of protrusions reminiscent of horns, along with a mask that seemed to bare a clown like smile, this was some what unusual as the mask of samurai normally bore depictions of beasts and devils to strike fear into the opponent. The warrior was armed with various blades, most notable were two Katana that hung from each side.

*CRACK*

The samurai froze. Something was nearby, the warrior calmed his mind and tried to sense what he was dealing with. He heard heavy frantic breathing, after a few seconds he realized it was coming from himself.

He was nervous.

*WOOSH*

Something flew through the air with astonishing speed.

The samurai instinctively spun around and caught an arrow that was aimed at the back of his head. If he reacted a fraction of a second slower, the result would have certainly been death. Another warrior seemingly materialized from the shadows, as if he was one with the night itself. He returned his bow to his back and prepared to draw his Katana with a devilish grin. The samurai couldn't make out his opponent's face but it's as if he could feel a tinge of satisfaction flowing off his new foe. This warrior wore no armor only his traditional kimono, Which didn't seem to deter him from attacking a fully armored samurai.

" I do not wish to fight you."

The samurai uttered barely above a whisper with his head held low.

"A coward I see." Taunted the warrior in a gruff voice as he drew his sword.

"Says the man who tried shooting me in the back of the head. "

"That strike was merely a test, not a killing blow. If you couldn't survive that you don't deserve the honor of facing me"

The warrior slowly moved around the samurai, eyeing him. He looked at the samurai's face, a bit startled by the mask, he then turned his attention to his chest where written in large and in bold was: 笑 the Japanese symbol for laughter. This samurai was certainly peculiar. The warrior pushed all doubt from his mind, sped forward and attacked fiercely. Dropping his shoulder and feinting a downward blow only to whip the sword back up and attack the head. The samurai barely evaded the attack as a series of deadly blows followed. The samurai bobbed and weaved, moving gracefully through the attacks.

'He's quick!' the samurai thought to himself. 'If not careful this could be my final battle.'

"Why won't you draw!?" The warrior asked agitated.

"Are you afraid of your own blade!"

The samurai drew one of his Katanas, granting his opponent's wish.

"That's the spirit!" The warrior snarled.

Both fighters charged at each other, the samurai, sword held high swung viciously at his opponent's head. The warrior however, easily slid under the blade, cutting through the samurai's armor and inflicting a devastating blow to the upper thigh.

"What is your purpose?" he asked the samurai.

"I have none"

The samurai attacked with an overhead slice, bringing his blade down with lethal force. A strong strike, his opponent blocked it nonetheless, but at a cost. His Katana started to crack.

'But how!? He would have to be unimaginably strong to do that!' He thought to himself

Noticing the momentary lapse in his opponent's concentration, the samurai sliced along his left arm cutting deep into the bone. An unusual scent filled the air as the aromas of the forest mixed with the stench of sweat and blood.

Both fighters were injured and breathing heavily. But neither would stop. The samurai stepped in once more and raised his sword for an overhead strike. But the warrior quickly raised his sword to block. This time however, his head wasn't the samurai's target. The samurai kicked him violently in the groin and as he stumbled back he slashed him across the chest.

The warrior looked the samurai over again. He noticed bunny ears on the samurai's helmet, that along with the smiling mask and the word laughter on his opponent gave him a bit of insight. Each person's armor is unique and says something about their personality. What he learnt from the samurai's armor is that he was quite humorous and would laugh in the face of death. But to the contrary he seemed like no joker. He was ferocious.

The samurai attacked again, the warrior feigned jumping aside to avoid the attack and then dashed in strongly the millisecond the samurai relaxed. Stabbing him in the lower abdomen, it seemed like the samurai expected this however, it's as if he planned to get skewered. As soon his opponent's blade made contact, he struck him at the elbow completely severing his arm off.

The warrior backed off, blood spewing from his arm. He yelled in agony as his very life leaked out.

"What are you doing in itsuki territory!? Your armor bares the Mark of the nato clan" the warrior asked gulping for air. His multiple wounds were starting to take effect.

"Answer me samurai!!! "

Before he could interpret what had happened his windpipe was severed in one clean blow, he clutched at his throat, but in an instant he fell dead.

"I'm a Ronin now. " he said softly, as tears streaked his face. Just a few hours earlier he promised himself he wouldn't take another life, he was ashamed that he already went back on his word. He cleaned his Katana, sheathed it and limped on. He was bleeding heavily now from the wound on his thigh. He stumbled along using his extensive knowledge of nature. After about an hour he found a small stream. He drank water,

removed his helmet and undid his hair which fell all the way to his lower back. He began stripping off all his armor including his inner garments revealing delicate, features. A small waistline, smooth silk-like skin, a petite and curvaceous figure overall, captivating breasts that were well developed but not too large as they sat gracefully upon her chest, a completely encapsulating beauty. She stumbled and collapsed into unconsciousness. For "he" was infact a woman.