How did this happen?
The thought repeated itself multiple times in his head as Inari forced his way through the crowd of people. Swarms of villagers pushed past him toward the border of the town, knocking him off balance and nearly shoving him to the ground by the sheer mass of bodies. If it hadn’t been for his determination, he’d have been trampled a while ago.
He had already lost his grandfather in the crowd behind him, but he was pretty certain the old man was still tailing him. Both were set on making sure Tsunami was alright before-
“Inari, move!”
The boy only had time to blink his eyes in confusion as he suddenly felt something slam into him from behind, pulling him to the ground. A split second later, he felt the earth shake beneath him, and he looked up to see a building smashing to the dirt road. Wooden planks littered the path in piles, creating a blockage in the middle of the street. It was the market building, Inari noticed with despair; the woman who ran the store lived upstairs, just above her business.
A firm hand yanking on the back collar of his shirt forced Inari into a standing position, and he whipped around to cast his frantic gaze upon his grizzly grandfather. Tazuna, while keeping a strong grip on his grandson, shoved his cracked glasses up his face as he turned in the direction of their home. The collapsed grocery market was no longer the only thing blocking their way, the two noticed as they peered over the wreckage.
Many buildings across town now appeared as heaps of broken wood. The water that surrounded the island was rising noticeably, already spilling over to leave massive puddles at their feet. Bodies of the unfortunate lay crushed beneath their fallen homes, their blood leaking to stain the dirt-paved roads and splatter the crumpled walls of the buildings.
Tazuna quickly shoved his grandson around toward the border of the village, where nearly every other surviving citizen had gone. “Inari, get out of here! You have to get to safety!”
The eleven-year-old gawked, throwing his hands to his sides in shock and anger. “But what about Mom?”
“Inari! Dad!” a shrill voice screamed from behind. Both males turned around to see the woman of the family scurrying over to them in a panic. Her dark hair frazzled and her dress torn in several places, she grasped both of her family members by their arms and pulled them with her. “We need to go! The Suiheisen, they’re-”
Another eruption of splitting wood fell upon them, and the elderly man pushed his relatives to the ground, shielding them with his body. Inari heard him groan in pain as another building rained in pieces upon them.
As the last portion of the structure fell, the group pulled themselves up to see that the salty water on the farther side of the their small island was rising into a wave. The blue-green water lifted high like it was being pulled by puppet strings. The trio stared in horror and awe at the surreal sight.
Inari was the first to snap out of his gaze, and he violently nudged the older people of the group, urging them toward the bridge that would lead them to safety. “Grandpa! Mom! Let’s go!”
His shouts seemed to be enough to snap them out of their dazed states, and almost instantly, the family sprinted through the ruins of their town toward the border. The sound of crashing waves followed them as they ran, devouring what remained of the village and pushing further towards its prey. The wetness below their feet rose within seconds, reaching first up to their ankles and then slowly heightening until they were wading through the water at the level of their hips.
Just as they had forced themselves through the flood toward the bridge that could lead to their safety, several things happened at once.
A wall of rock burst through the water, halting them in their attempts to swim across the bridge toward the mainland. Before Inari could comprehend where it had come from, he felt the murky liquid around him suddenly tighten into a squeezing grip at his waist. Then he was forced under the surface, as if the water had pulled him down. He gasped as the oxygen was unexpectedly ripped from his lungs, causing him to choke on the dirty liquid.
Thrashing against the invisible hands the water held him with, he looked to the rising surface to see shadows standing above him. His eyes widened, the salt mercilessly stinging his pupils. The last of his air left him as he watched the strange figures force his grandfather and mother away. It was hard to see what was exactly going on through the water that was now tainted with blood and decay, but he could hear the muffled screams of his family above the surface. That alone was enough to make the boy lash against his watery bonds even more.
Just as his vision began to blur from the burning salt and lack of oxygen, a piercing grip seized him by the shoulder, yanking him fiercely from his watery prison. The world above was a blur of distorted shapes and fuzzy images. As Inari blinked away the black spots flooding his sight, he felt the hand that had pulled him up now clutching him across his shoulders, the stranger’s forearm pressed tightly to his throat.
“Stop struggling,” a firm tone said from a few feet away.
Whatever resistance the boy had been about to put up against his holder was immediately halted by the cold and bitter voice. He made an attempt to twist his head around to see who the mysterious figure was, but the burly man grasping him had a tight squeeze around his upper body, keeping him frozen in position.
The water that had delayed their escape was now receding away from the land, slowly dipping back to its home. It seemed unnatural, Inari noticed, how the seawater moved away. It was as if it really was listening to the orders of its puppeteer. A master who commanded it to do his bidding.
Opposite him, Inari saw his mother and grandfather being bound by their wrists and forced to their knees. The woman behind them, their jailor, grabbed each by the back of their heads and shoved them to the ground. Tsunami whimpered in pain as her hair was pulled and then pushed against her head while Tazuna merely huffed and moaned in defiance, attempting to keep his already bruised face up. Inari heard the woman sputter something in irritation, and with a violent shake of her faded gray head, she slammed both of their faces into the dirt.
The eleven-year-old shouted then, screaming unintelligible words and sounds until he could form a real sentence. “Stop it! Leave them alone!”
The woman paid him no mind as she continued to push his relatives’ faces into the ground until soggy soil stifled their noses and mouths.
“I said to st-”
Inari was instantly cut off as a sharp shooting pain hit him in the cheek, the force strong enough to whip his face to the side. The shock was worse than the injury, though he could almost feel the red mark appearing on his skin.
He turned around to see a new figure standing beside him and the man holding him. The person was mostly covered, shrouded by a midnight-colored cloak. Shadows from the hood clouded the stranger’s face; Inari could only make out the person’s mouth, which was thinned into an emotionlessly straight line.
With a quick jerk of the head, the mysterious figure turned and stalked toward the two older Wave Country villagers. In a swift motion, the person threw the hood back, allowing a shower of cerulean to cascade against the darker blue of the wardrobe.
Inari’s eyes widened a fraction when he realized he was staring at a girl. A girl who appeared to be only a few years older than himself. From his position, he could only make out the right side of her face, but he could practically feel the power radiating off her. So much anger and maliciousness in such a young person, it felt almost wrong and unnatural to witness.
Shoulders straight and back braced, the leader crouched before the gray elderly man, fixing him with a deadly gaze. “You are Tazuna the bridge builder.” It was phrased as a statement, a statement laced with icy bitterness that made Inari suddenly fear deeply for his grandfather.
“I am,” Tazuna muttered to the ground, his head forced into a bow.
“Good,” the teenage girl replied. It was hard to tell if she was actually happy or if that was simply her nature, to be so sour. “You’ll be fulfilling a task for me.”
If he had been able to, Tazuna would have whipped his head up in a jerk with surprise. As it was, with the vicious woman behind him still shoving his face downward, the jolt of his neck only knocked his glasses from his nose. The already broken lenses shattered completely against the path, spilling crystal shards before him. “What do you want from me?”
The girl cocked her blue head to the side, drumming her black-gloved fingers against her knee. “You’re rather famous, you know. Quite a popular figure to represent the Land of Waves.”
“What does that have to do with-”
The woman holding Tazuna’s head kicked him in the side, the pointed tip of her boot stinging him harshly in the ribs. A cry ripped from his throat as she hissed, “Do not interrupt the Captain when she speaks!”
“Ayame,” the leader said. “I need him alive and well.”
Inari could not see the captain’s face, but he could hear the emotionless tone in which she spoke to her underling. He guessed it was her way of scolding her crew, for the woman instantly slumped into her shoulders like a turtle, fearing what must have been an intimidating stare from her higher-up.
With a short flick, the captain looked back to the old man kneeling before her. “As I said, you’re very well known for the bridge you built. I think you’d make for a great political partner when I go to speak with your daimyo.”
This time, when Tazuna snapped his head up, he was able to shove off the woman’s tight grip on his spiky graying hair. “P-Political partner? What in the name of Kami for?”
“I need to win the daimyo’s approval for setting up a base here. The Land of Waves has quite a bit of trading power amongst the nations, and I want in.”
Before Tazuna could even exhibit his disbelief in this proposal, his grandson beat him to it. “That doesn’t even make sense!” Inari shouted, once again squirming against the bulky arms of his captor. “If you can take over a village, why do you need permission to set up a trading base?”
He wished the girl would turn around to look at him, cast her frightening gaze on him so he could stare her down. She didn’t even move.
“Hayashi,” she simply said, her monotonous voice only barely audible for the others to hear.
The man clutching Inari, supposedly named Hayashi, slid his forearm up until it threw the boy’s head back against the man’s strong chest, displaying the clear skin of his neck. In a quick flick of his wrist, Hayashi removed the katana from its sheath at his waist. The blade of the weapon, reflecting with the fading sun, glinted with a golden ray. With the sword pressed against his Adam’s apple, Inari locked his lips together to keep his throat from moving.
His need for air defeated him, and oxygen streamed through his nose and into his lungs, expanding his grateful windpipe. Hayashi’s weapon pushed against his skin, and a thin yet painful gash formed to leak his blood on the silvery metal. Crimson stained the shining gray as Inari let loose an unwanted whimper, and his mother and grandfather gawked in horror.
The leader of the Suiheisen stood up suddenly, her movement so fluid it was almost unnoticed in the swish of her cloak. “Perhaps now you shall listen?” she asked amusedly.
“Please!” Tsunami sobbed as she strained against the hand on her head. “Please don’t hurt my son!”
Tazuna’s mouth opened and closed like a fish on land gasping for water. “Alright,” he croaked out. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“You’ll be writing a letter to your daimyo,” the girl replied. “Tell him to come here so we can have a formal meeting.”
The old man bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood, though he barely noticed the thin drops trickling down his chin. “Why do you need him here? Why do you even need to meet him?”
He flinched after he asked his questions. The look on her face was frightening enough that questioning her motives seemed like a death wish. However, she merely crossed her arms over her chest, staring him down. “Without an official’s permission to set up a base here, there will be no nations willing to trade. And if I were to create an unauthorized trading center, it’d be easy for anyone to destroy it. I want your daimyo’s approval so that my base will not be touched. I’m not going to be like that idiot, Gato, who got himself some enemies because he didn’t get official permission.”
“If you wanted to speak with the Wave Country’s daimyo,” Tsunami murmured through her tears, “why go through the trouble of destroying our village just to get a conference with him?”
Hands planted on her hips, the girl bent over so that she was leaning in front of the mother’s face. “Because if there was no destruction, how persuasive would I really be?” she inquired, her voice dripping with amusement. “Ayame will supervise you both while you write the letter. She’ll be watching you until he arrives.”
“But what if he doesn’t want to come?” Tazuna asked desperately. “What if-”
The cloaked girl cut him off as she hissed, “You better damn well make sure he comes. Learn to be persuasive. Because if he refuses to meet with me…” She took this moment to gesture a gloved hand in Inari’s direction. “The boy dies.”
Hayashi took this as his cue to drive the blade a little bit further into Inari’s throat, slicing another gash in his skin to spill more blood. The eleven-year-old squirmed in pain as he bit down on his lips to keep from screaming.
“Please stop!” Tsunami shrieked as she shoved her body against Ayame’s grip on her.
“Then I expect a formal letter to be sent to your daimyo by tomorrow,” the blue-haired girl said. “Tell him the Blue Tiger of the Mist of the Suiheisen is waiting for him. And if you fail in getting him here, the runt is dead.”
Turning on her heels, the girl stalked away, holding herself in a proud and professional manner as she elegantly stormed away. Hayashi followed, dragging Inari with him. From behind, the boy could hear the sad whimpers of his mother and the hoarse croaks of his grandfather. After only a few moments though, he could no longer hear them, and his holder kept him from turning around to see them.
Inari gave up on his struggling against the blond muscled man. His throat felt sore and raw from the wounds there, and his body felt weak and scrawny in Hayashi’s hold on him. The Suiheisen captain led the way to the harbor, where Inari saw, for the first time, a large midnight blue ship sitting in the dock. A strange symbol was printed on the black sail: a blue circle with three golden slashes running diagonally through it. Tiger slashes, Inari realized.
Seeing the majestic ship in his village’s dock angered him. It was such an intrusion, an unwanted presence. The vessel seemed far too comfortable for Inari’s liking, resting in the harbor like it belonged there. The Suiheisen were here to stay, they were going to set up a base here to manage. The very idea of these criminals having a station here infuriated him.
“You’re not going to get away with this!” Inari shouted at the captain’s back.
For the first time since she had arrived, she turned her head to look the boy in the eyes, face to face. Her eyes were charcoal black, so dark that it was as if someone had painted them to match the night sky. But it wasn’t the shadowy color of her eyes that frightened him. It was that there was nothing in them to show her thoughts. Her whole face, the thin line of her lips and the barrenness in her eyes, showed nothing. The emptiness in her expression was more intimidating than if she had been glaring at him.
She smirked at him, a little tug at one side of her mouth to create a dry smile. Even that seemed deprived of real emotion. “I’ve gotten away with a lot of things, kid. I don’t expect this to be any different.”
“You’re just a bunch of thugs! Someone is going to stop you!” Inari yelled as he attempted to keep his voice from wavering under the captain’s stare.
The girl turned away to continue her trek to her ship, Hayashi following suit as he grasped the boy. “We prefer the term ‘pirate’. Be wise when you insult us,” the captain said as she walked ahead of him.
Inari frowned as they boarded the ramp that led onto the ship. He saw some of the other pirates at work on the deck, and then he started to worry. How many pirates were there? How strong were they? If they set up a base here, would it be like when Gato was running the village?
How did this happen?
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Story notes: This is the rewrite for my story, Pirates of the Mist. I am sorry to those who were fans of that story, but my writing mojo just kind of turned in a different direction.
Chapter notes: So... guess what? I'm back! I know! It's weird for me too!
This is a rewrite of my original fic, Pirates of the Mist. I'm really sorry for the fans of that story, but some things happened that made me realize the beginning chapters were pretty awful. And so, I present a twist: A Tale Best Told Dead.
I had actually finished this chapter back in May, but I wanted to get a second chapter completed as well before I actually posted anything. Had to make sure I was committed.
Special shoutout to my beta reader who opted to have his name kept silent. I still want to thank him for putting up with me and my inconsistent writing schedule.
Okay then, without further adieu, I present the first chapter of my newest project. I do not own Naruto but if I did... meh, I don't have a good one right now. Oh well.
Read on and enjoy!
Chapter end notes: So... yeah, kinda nervous to hear what you guys think about this. I hope you guys liked it. Please tell me what you enjoyed or hated on this. It's much appreciated!
Thank you so much for deciding to read this story! You rock my socks!