Merchant Escort { C-rank }

Mikasa Ackerman · 1 Merchant Escort { C-rank } Mon Oct 24, 2016 8:57 am

Mikasa Ackerman

D-rank

72

Spoiler:

Overhead clouds obscured the mirth of the blue skies above. Warm whispers of the hearth were incongruous with the ominous layer of cotton blanketing the horizon. Superstitious as she wasn't, Mikasa stood unfazed beside a tall oak on the country's western borders. Her black hair fell sleek and smooth, her neck flanked by downturned collars of her leather jacket guarding her small frame from the incursion of the moist tropical air. Éclair hung by her side, dangling impatiently as her owner, arms crossed. A mere C-rank mission this may have been, to escort a group of merchants through the already safe passages to Konohagakure's walls.

It had been a timeless wait, chaperoned only by the occasional song of the wild. A tiger lay some fifty meters within the forest's tresses, its innards spilling out after mistakenly setting its sights on the Ackerman as its meal. The woman's time was precious, moreso than the lives of merchants willy-nillying after paying a pretty penny. Her contract with Konohagakure, bound for this one mission, was all that kept her in service; she could not afford a poor reputation when she wandered alone.

And just then, within the horizon, her gray eyes littered with tints of green latched onto small figures accompanying a caravan. A horse galloped slowly at the reins, pulling the heaving cart forward on its four oversized wheels. Three men in plain sight, with a possible fourth in the caravan. The two at the flanks were clearly no guards and lesser so ninja, but their narrowed slits spoke of greed and meticulous judgment. Flowing robes of exotic purple and gold reflected their lavish lifestyle, and the diamond-studded fans, folded up and mostly hidden under their sleeves, were gripped with pride.

The group halted beside Mikasa. Silence was exchanged as she studied the head. The favour was clearly returned as the air of distrust grew between them. It was with a suspicious tone that she was questioned, "Are you the one escorting us to Konoha?"

Ignoring the pathetic glare levelled her direction, she dusted off her right sleeve in standard intimidation, before taking two steps ahead of the caravan. There was no other chakra signatures, and these men's reserves were pathetically miniscule. Their frail bodies would collapse before Éclair's edge if they drew more provocation. "We should move," was her only reply.

The air of reassurance her presence invited was an apparent relaxant to the trio of travellers. Their stoicism evaporated like the morning dew of the Land of Fire's flora. While they never spoke a decibel louder, the growing chatter was one Mikasa did not appreciate. Her journey to the border was swift and quick, travelling at least six times the pace they adopted to indulge the caravan's slowed pace. The lazy neigh of the creature behind her as its horseshoes left noticeable imprints on the ground licked at her patience.

Her time was precious.

Yet, she stayed her hand. Éclair was a blade forged of beauty and perfection. To waste her sharpened edge on an irritation with no purpose was beyond Mikasa's scope. The woman's self-control was brilliant from a juvenile age, and she filtered out the merchants' banter, digging still for information of her years-lost brother.

Half a day had seen the sun set, sitting on the horizon before it bade its goodbye for the day. Despite their protests, they followed the Ackerman off the beaten path into a nearby clearing to rest for the evening. Perhaps it was suspicion unwarranted, but her back was never turned to the three men she travelled with. Back against a tree, she faced inwards on a campfire meant to keep them warm through the chills of the night, and to give them some peace of mind from the fauna that lurked. Ninja would be less daunted by a small flame, but any that was foolish enough to assault another, she would cut down without a second thought.

Of course, she reminisced about the meeting of blades between herself and someone she was begrudged to admit an equal. The woman whose pink hair flowed down her back, so unlike Mikasa's own, had been skilled enough to meet Mikasa twice in an exchange of sparks. Lightning, she had rightfully called herself, a testament to the great tenacity she commanded over her trademark element, but Mikasa had proven herself craftier, and in doing so, superior. Power would always succumb to control, or flail and vanish.

"You had better make sure we live through the night, ninja," one individual spoke over the burnt chicken thigh between his lips.

She eyed him carefully, but otherwise said nothing. Mikasa was off in her own world, unburdened by their threats, unshackled for the moment from her responsibilities. Her mind wandered to thoughts of her brother and where he would have disappeared to. Her travels had brought her past the border of Wind and Fire, just a wild guess in a moment of hurry. The chewing of meaty thighs around her reminded her of his penchant to do the same, eliciting a cry of objection from their mother at the absolute absence of table manners. Their father would always sit by the side in silence to his son's antics, and Mikasa would follow suit, simply a child struggling to fit in with her new family.

A loud yawn was followed by the retreat of three men into their caravan, leaving Mikasa the lone woman on stakeout. Bar other ninja, though, there was hardly a living thing in these forests that would make her pulse race. Animals were simple enough to disarm; the bigger the size the easier it was to outmaneuver their appendages once one overcame the initial shock of the hulking size of fauna within these woods. Her fears were laid to rest. The campfire crackled with cinders, and Mikasa allowed the lull of the night to wash past her, resting stiffly against the hard bark of oak. She would know if anything disturbed her rest, animal or human. And with that, she drifted off.

1024 words | 1024 total

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1 Merchant Escort { C-rank } Mon Oct 24, 2016 8:57 am

Mikasa Ackerman

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