He ran, like in a dream, with tunnel vision focus on the just the cat, the bag of scraps forgotten on the steps and knelt beside the lifeless body of cold orange fur. He was so engrossed in it he failed to see his apartment door open and his enemy sitting just inside staring at him and the cat.
He tried to wake the cat, but its limp body just rolled listlessly as he nudged it. He picked it up, the body so light and thin he could still feel the fine bones shift beneath the fur as he held it. Even after all the food he had been feeding it, the cat was still skinny as a rail.
Clutching the dead cat, he stopped short when he saw her.
She smirked at him, “Did you love it?” As cruel as her face was, her eyes told a different story. They were red, sad and bitter.
“You did this?” he asked, his own voice sounding far away and faint in his ears as it cracked with rage. “Why would you kill a stupid cat?”
Ignoring him, “You named it didn’t you? O.C.? Short for, let me guess, Orange Cat?”
He walked past her, head down and delicately holding the orange and white furry body against his chest. He carried it to the living room and gently laid it on his old, worn leather couch. And he stood there for a long time, silent and still.
“So, was this the revenge you were seeking?” he asked, his voice coming out weak and breathless, belying the anger that seethed within him.
He felt her approaching behind him and all the rage rumbling up beneath him like the waking of a long dormant volcano suddenly turned white-hot and focused like a laser beam.
He whipped around, raising his leg and slamming it down in a lethal axe kick. But she was gone and his heel only met his cheaply made coffee table, splintering it into several pieces.
She had dodged around behind him and yanked back hard on his shoulder, sending his arms pin-wheeling to keep his balance. As he fell he grasped her shirt and pulled her down with him.
With bodies pressed together, tense with struggle, arms, and legs twisting and interlocking as they fought for ground dominance, Tetsuo locked eyes with her. Her red-rimmed eyes were full of rage, revenge, and regret as she glared at him, her nostrils flared and teeth clenched, brows furrowed in concentration.
The cruelty and injustice of what she had done to an innocent animal, and for what? For a settling of scores? Yet, despite all the fury he felt inside, he found himself welcoming each torque she gave his limbs, each solid blow landed. He craved her body, even as it pummeled him mercilessly to the ground.
Then he caught a glimpse of the limp body of the cat lying on the couch, and he became even more crazed. Such a petty and cruel person deserved to die.
“Yes, that’s it,” she whispered, as they rolled over and under each other like cats fighting over territory. “You feel it now, don’t you, Tetsuo?” she panted. She leveraged an arm against his elbow and he collapsed on top of her, rolling away before she could grapple him again.
“They trained you your whole life to stuff down the guilt of ending a life. They fed you their mantras to recite in meditation when the face of one of your victims haunted you at night. They gave you all the tools you needed to numb yourself, and trained you how to squelch the fire within your own heart.
But now, look at you, you’re alive. Inside you there is something where before it was just emptiness.”
Tetsuo cried out as he struck at her; he didn’t want to hear her words, he didn’t want to believe her, and didn’t want to crave her so much. He attacked full force, dropping low and kicking her legs out from beneath her and leapt atop of her like a wildcat, but she had stopped fighting back. Instead, she was laughing. Tetsuo, enraged more by her laughter, wrapped his hands around her neck to stop the sound coming out of her throat.
He watched with a hungry madness as her face reddened and her eyes began to wax over. She reached up in vain, pawing at his face weakly. Her hands wiped his cheeks and she held them up to him, the wetness of his own tears glistening on her fingers. A sad smile played itself out on her face as she watched his reaction, tears of her own rolling down her cheeks, as her eyes rolled white up into her head.
And he let go.
He wiped at his eyes and felt the wetness. Had he been crying? For how long? Had he been reduced to a child that cried over stray cats? What had he become?
Next to him, his enemy drew in raking breaths, coughing and gasping for air as she rolled away from him. If he was a true shinobi, like he had been trained to be, he would have finished the job. But he only stared at his own tears that dampened his hands.
She had recovered now, and sat up. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her, crawling towards him, probably to break his neck. After all, she got her revenge hadn’t she? All that was left was for her was to take the life she had so completely ruined and leave with the contentment she had finished what she had set out to do. In a way, he admired her for what she had been able to do. He felt the bitter admiration one feels for an enemy who has defeated you so completely. He would face her as she conquered him and he would welcome it with peace.
He turned, toward her, letting his hands lay languid on his lap, his head slightly bowed.
She crawled up to him, her face bruised and bloodied by the fight, much like his. She reached up and cupped his face delicately in his hands.
He let out a long breath as he prepared for her to snap his neck.
Instead of the swift twist of his head and the sound of cracking vertebrae, he felt a soft warmth press hard against his lips as she kissed him. She was crawling into his lap, her hands finding their way into his hair, pulling him into her.
She drew back and stared at him, lips slightly parted, eyes appearing lost under the glistening film of tears.
Tetsuo felt just as lost as she was. What was she doing? What were they doing? The world around him had become only a grey landscape of the crumbling remains of the principles he had built his life upon. Before him sat the only beacon of reality that remained. And it was the face of his enemy, staring at him with large eyes of uncertainty, waiting. There was something else that shone in her eyes; something faint and luminous.
It was hope.
He reached out to touch her face, if only to ensure she was real, and she rested her head against his hand, the light growing in her eyes.
And he never wanted anything so desperately as that fire which lit her eyes. He pulled her to him possessively and met her with a kiss of his own, grasping desperately for what he saw kindled there.
***
Tetsuo awoke to the sound of muffled cries coming up through the floor he had been lying on. Next to him lay the woman who once was his enemy, but now he didn’t really know what she was to him now.
He knew her name was Vasha, and that she was beautiful, cunning and powerful, but beyond that he only knew she had stirred up in him an insatiable for more of her.
But then he remembered the cat.
She had killed his cat.
He sat up, remembering the anger he had felt before was still there. No matter what they had ended up doing, nothing would change the fact she had killed his cat.
She stirred beside him, stretching and sitting up next to him, half-wrapped in his bedsheet. “What is it? she asked.
“You killed my cat, Vasha.”
“I’m sorry,” she sighed.
“What kind of person kills a cat?”
“What kind of person kills another person and thinks of it only as a job description?”
“It’s not the same,” he replied, but it felt empty as he said it. She was right, but he was still resentful. He wondered if she was still vengful toward him for killing her lover those few months ago. Had she been mourning him as she made love to him last night?
She reached up and pulled his face towards hers, “What do you expect from me? I’m like you, a cold-blooded killer. Why would I think twice about killing a stupid cat?”
“It was so easy for you, was it?” he asked, “Are you sure
?”
She glanced away.
Then another muffled cry came up from the floor below them.
“Did you hear that?” he asked.
She looked back at him, her eyes lit with a secret joke. “Just some loose ends I need to take care of.”
Tetsuo raised an eyebrow, “What kind of ‘loose ends’?”
When she was done explaining how she had been living in the apartment below his for about as long as he had lived there, he could only shake his head. And not only living there, but keeping would-be assassins bound and gagged for days now. All this right under his nose.
“Don’t feel bad, Tetsuo. I was one of the best in my clan at tracking and espionage.”
“So was I,” he frowned.
“And now we need to be the best again if we are going to live to see tomorrow,” Vasha said as she quickly began dressing.
“Where are you going to go?” he asked her, surprised by the violent wave of anguish that swept over him at the thought of her leaving.
“I don’t know. Probably out of the country.” She turned to look at him, her eyes dancing. “Come with me.”
He wanted to go with her, more than anything. But they both knew they would need to split up. To stay together would be too complicated.
“No one knows we’re together,” Vasha said.
“It wouldn’t be hard for them to figure out. Especially with ‘loose ends’ who probably overheard our … disagreement last night.”
“Those knuckleheads? Please. That’s why I’m letting them live—to feed whoever comes for them with misinformation.” She stepped closer to him, her breasts lightly brushing against his chest, intoxicating him. “Come with me, Tetsuo. We can start a new life together. Or, if not a new life together, at least one where we can help each other—”
He cut her off with a kiss, “Not without you,” he whispered.
“Fine,” she smiled. A real smile, not the cruel smirk he was used to seeing, but a real smile, that smoothed her brow, and gently creased her eyes before tugging on the corners of her mouth. “I need to gather a few things from the apartment first. I’ll meet you back here in five minutes. Be packed and ready to go.” She kissed his cheek, and dashed out of her apartment.
As he packed his duffel bag with the most essential of his possessions, he glanced at his couch, to once more look upon the body of the orange and white striped cat who had been the catalyst for whatever was changing inside of him.
But the cat wasn’t there.
Where was it? Had Vasha already gotten rid of it? He just wanted to say goodbye, as foolish as that felt, it still felt necessary to do.
He looked around the apartment, even morosely checking the kitchen garbage. Vasha wouldn’t be so cruel, would she? He knew so little about her. Maybe leaving with her was a mistake.
How could he have been so foolish to trust her so easily?
“Tetsuo?” He turned, and saw Vasha staring at him from the dining room with creased brows. “Are you ready?”
“What did you do with the cat?” he asked warily.
Her face softened and a smile played about her lips. She beckoned to him with a wave of her hand and pointed down the hallway of his apartment.
Coming out of his bedroom and stretching luxuriously with each step, O.C. made his way down the hall.
“He’s probably hungry. He hasn’t eaten in a while,” she said.
“O.C.?” He looked at her, mouth agape, “You didn’t kill him?”
“No, just Ketamine.” She smiled again, picking up the cat as it wound around her legs. “I was the one who rubbed the catnip into your carpet.”
“You did that?” Whatever doubts he had about her melted away—and he suddenly felt bad about thinking them. “I’m sorry, I—,”
“Sorry for what? I wanted you to think I killed it. I wanted you to understand—,”
He kissed her again, and the purring cat being squeezed between them didn’t seem to mind. “I understand now. And I’m sorry for what I did. I don’t think I can be that person any longer.” he said.
“I know,” she answered, putting the cat down, who made his way into the kitchen only to sniff at his empty food bowl and walk away disappointed. “But we can’t take it with us. And we need to go now.”
Tetsuo stared at the cat, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. He opened his wallet and pulled out a matchbook from Flint’s Beer & Bacon Bar. On the inside cover was Chuck’s number.
“I think I know someone that’ll take him.”
***
Tetsuo handed Chuck the cardboard box taped shut with duct tape and breathing holes punched in for air.
The box shook erratically as O.C. yowled loudly from within.
“You sure he’ll take him?” Tetsuo asked.
“Vince? Yeah, he and his wife take in strays all the time and find them homes. Your kitty here will be well taken care of, I promise.”
“I don’t think he will like the ride very much,” Tetsuo said.
Chuck glanced at his motorcycle, frowning, “No, probably not. But I got plenty of bungee cord and he’ll be secured nice and tight.”
The promise of ‘plenty of bungee cord’ didn’t really ease Tetsuo’s fears, but he and Vasha were desperate and needed to get out of town as quickly as possible.
“Thank you, Chuck, for everything.”
Tetsuo held out his hand and Chuck grasped it firmly, pulling him in for a hug. Tetsuo decided not to try to dislocate his arm this time, and instead, warmly accepted the embrace.
“You take care of yourself, Ted,” Chuck said, clearing his throat afterwards.
“You, too.”
Chuck nodded and adjusted the rattling box under his arm before he turned to load the package onto the back of his waiting motorcycle.
Tetsuo watched as Chuck revved the bike a few times before waving and pulling out of the gas station with O.C. on the back, strapped down with ‘plenty of bungee cord’. Tetsuo couldn’t help but feel he would probably see him again someday, and it was the one thing that took the sting out of leaving everything he knew behind.
End.
***
Dear Reader,
Thank you for taking a chance on a new author.
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Acknowledgements
I would now like to take the time for thanking those that made creating this little story about a ninja possible. Thank you, God, for giving me a love of story writing and for the opportunity afforded in my life to try. My husband, who puts up with me to no end. Thank you for being my best friend and for your invaluable feedback through the somewhat consuming process this story became towards the end. I love you! My kids. Thank you so much for believing in me, guys. I hope to one day write a story worthy of you, but mommy’s got a lot of practicing to do. Also, thank you Flint, Chuck, Krystin, Mariah, Vince and Kelli, for being some of the first people to like me on my Facebook Author page. I told you I would use your names for some of the characters and I hope
you liked them. Mariah and Kelli, I’ll include you in later books, I promise! I would also like to thank two good friends of mine, Valerie and Gail who went through the manuscript, pointing out grammatical errors, sticky plot points and inconsistencies. If it wasn’t for them this book would have been impossible to read. If there are any errors that have been missed, it’s my fault and mine alone—not theirs. Thanks also goes to Jason G. Anderson at polgarusstudio.com for his formatting services and to James, at humblenations.com, who designed the amazing cover. Without him, you probably wouldn’t have downloaded this book. If the story didn’t live up to the cover, I apologize. But he made it really hard!
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