Ich schrieb dieses fic, in der nacht, in der ich von meiner Freundin verlassen wurde, passte irgendwie zu der stimmung, die ich in dem moment hatte. Ich hab es nie vollendet, werds wohl auch nie tun. Trotzdem hier ist es.


Erklärung: Was sind Burakumin ? Die Burakumin sind eine soziale gruppe, die schon immer in Japan deskriminiert wurden. In der Edo era, verrichteten sie die arbeiten, die niemand sonst machen wollte, häncker, metzger usw. Sie galten nicht als menschen und wurden entsprechend behandelt. Die Burakumin, die heute noch leben, versuchen immer ihre wurzeln zu verbergen, da sie immer noch deskreminiert weden, und als weniger werd gelten. Es klingt komisch, aber so ist die Japanische kultur aufgebaut, es gibts nichts wichtigeres als den sozialen status.




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This is a dark fic, dont read it, if you dont like those !




The Path of the Wolf




by Lynx




Chapter 1






I hate Japan.




It’s unpatriotic to profess such sentiments about the nation that birthed you, but I don’t care. I’ve hated Japan for the past twenty years, and I’ll hate it to my dying day. I’d much rather be in the States, where I’ve had the most success with my various endeavors, but things were getting a little hot for me there, so I decided that a change of scene was in order. I was in the middle of choosing between Seoul and Hong Kong when one of my factors contacted me with a contract. One Himura Wantanabe of Tokyo wished to acquire my services for an assassination. Ordinarily I would have ignored this request – I had never heard of this man, and I had long ago reached the point where I could pick and choose jobs at my leisure – but a note at the end of the missive caught my attention.




“You will find this assignment to be of great personal interest.”




Not much to go on, but just enough to pique my curiosity. I told my factor to contact this Wantanabe and arrange a meeting at a suitable location. So here I am, in Tokyo for the first time in sixteen years, standing on the roof of a skyscraper on a moonless night, a fierce wind howling and clawing about me as I watch my potential client pace about nervously. I’ve been watching him for twenty minutes now, concealed from his sight by a facet of the Umasenken, the Silent Thief’s Mantle. I’m not impressed; He’s pale and paunchy, his small black eyes darting about furtively, reminding me of a trapped, nervous rat. He’s an incessant chain smoker, futilely trying to light one cigarette after the other despite the hungry wind. With each passing moment his nervousness grows, until finally he appears to have decided to leave. I make my move then. He turns to head for the stairwell, and there I am before him. He gasps, stumbling back a step, dropping his cigarette. The wind snatches it away, howling in glee as it carries off its prize.




Wantanabe blinks a few times, trying to determine if I’m real or some phantasm conjured by his nerves as he tries to recompose himself. “Okami- sama?” he ventures hesitantly. I nod slightly in acknowledgement and his fat, chewed lips split into a grin. “I am glad that you deigned to meet with me. I was afraid that you had… ah… changed your mind at the last moment. I am Himura Wantanabe.” He bows deeply. I return it with another nod. I see his eyes narrow and harden, obviously offended by my lack of manners. The corners of my mouth quirk up a little in a brief smile of amusement. I save manners for people I respect; if he is serious about wanting my services then politeness should not matter.




Wantanabe straightens up, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to mop his wet brow, for in spite of the cold wind he is sweating profusely. “I will… ah… I will cut to the chase, Okami-sama, since time is precious to both of us. I wish you to kill someone. Two someones, as a matter-of-fact. My cousin and his wife. He is very wealthy, and I am currently his… ah… closest living relative. Upon their death the bulk of his estate will be bequeathed to me, and I am in need of his money. I will supply you with their names, and you will… ah… dispose… of them. In return I’ll pay you…” he quotes a figure to me.




I look at him, silently, for a full minute, with all the warmth a scientist spares for a research animal. His offer is almost insulting to an agent of my caliber. I take some amusement for a moment in how he fidgets uneasily beneath my gaze. Finally I turn on my heel and stride away.




“Wait, Okami-sama! At least let me tell you my cousin’s name before you decide!” I ignore him. My body begins to shimmer as I start to pull the Silent Thief’s Mantle around me. Then Wantanabe calls out something that strikes me dead in my tracks, as still and unmoving as an iron statue.




“His name is Kuno, Okami-sama. Kuno!”




Kuno. The name echoes in my ears, burning them. My throat clenches, my heart begins to beat a little faster. I look down at my hands, and see that they are trembling, almost imperceptibly. Kuno. I had not heard or thought of that name in over sixteen years, not since I left Japan. I turn slowly back to Wantanabe. The fat little rat is grinning again, his small eyes glinting.




“Tatewaki Kuno, to… ah… be exact. His wife’s name is Nabiki. Did I not write to you in my message that you’d find this commission to be of… ah… great… personal interest?”




I’m on top of Wantanabe in an instant. His eyes bug out; to him it appeared that I teleported across the seven meters between us. He squeals in fright as he feels my hands on his collar and finds himself lifted into the air. I shake this rat hard, rattling his teeth and whipping his head.




“What do you know of me?” I snarl, speaking to him for the first time. He flinches at the sound of my voice, harsh and grating, like rusted wire scraping across granite. He babbles incoherently, and I lift him higher, extending my arms full above my head. He squeals again, this one higher pitched, frightened and appalled by the monstrous strength I command. Fool. He obviously had no conception of just what I am when he decided to contact me. “Tell me what you know of me or else I’ll throw you down to hell.” I start towards the building’s edge. I feel him go slack as fear overwhelms him.




“Don’t… ah… don’t! I’ll tell! I’ll tell!” he sobs out. I throw him roughly to the concrete and pin him down with my foot. I bend over him, and he quails at the fire lighting my good right eye.




“Start speaking…” I command, pulling my foot off of him and stepping back. He struggles up to a sitting position, his breath coming in rasps while his shoulders shake. He finally regains control of his breathing, licking his chapped lips as he gathers his thoughts.




“I… ah… I learned of something that happened twenty years ago…” he starts hesitantly. “Twenty years ago a young man was finally going to marry a young woman after a… ah… tumultuous… year long engagement, arranged by their families. It so happened that my cousin desired this young woman for himself. He tried every means available to win her over, both honorable and… ah… otherwise, but to no avail. The young woman, despite her protests, was in love with her fiancé. Unable to beat this man in a fight or woo the woman away, my cousin stooped to one last… ah… resort. With the vast monetary resources available to him he hired investigators to delve into the young man’s past…”




Wantanabe pauses for a moment to swallow. I can feel his wary gaze on my back. I’ve turned away from him, slowly becoming lost in unwelcome memories of the past. I hear him lick his lips again, and he continues, a cruel, almost amused tone now evident in his voice.




“On the day of the wedding - at the very moment the bride and groom were approaching the altar, their families looking on with pride – notes were scattered about the chapel as well as the entire ward that the young man and woman lived in. On the notes was a proclamation that claimed the young man’s… ah… lineage… was less than desirable. They claimed that the young man was… ah… burakumin, his blood tainted by his sire. On that day everyone in the young man’s life turned against him. His bride and her family, his friends, even his own mother… all turned… ah… all turned against him.”




“You’re wrong there…” I whisper. “Not everyone betrayed me…”




He does not hear me. “My cousin Kuno destroyed the young man’s life without a second thought just so he could have a free hand at courting the young woman. I know that you were that young man, Okami-sama. Or should I call you Ranma… ah… Saotome?”




“No, you shall not.” I answer coldly. I hear Wantanabe shuffle up to his feet. Time passes silently between us, and again he grows nervous. He is not use to silence. To me, it is an old, dear friend. Finally he can stand it no longer.




“So, will you take my commission?” he asks impatiently. I’ll give him this much, he is quick to forget fear. He must think he has me cowed. I hold my peace for another minute.




“How did you learn all this?” I query, ignoring his question.




“My cousin couldn’t help but boast of his achievement to the family. From there it was a simple matter investigation. You did not take pains in covering your tracks… ah… Sao-“




I’m on top of him again before he can say that name, checking him hard and sending him skidding three meters on his fat