Seems I've made enemies in Japan, long before I ever got here. Walking around one night, minding my own business when out of nowhere buncha damned ninjas surrounded me. They said something, but all I caught through all the alcohol in me was a couple of words "Strucker and The H.A.N.D." Now I have no idea what any of this shit meant. It didn't help they were speaking in Japanese. I understand it, but hell it's hard enough keeping up with English when I have enough sake in me to take down a dozen sumo wrestlers.
But apparently they didn't like that I wasn't complying. Didn't have any intentions of meeting anyone named Strucker or whoever this H.A.N.D was. I think when my claws appeared they understood that. They cme at me and at first I took a couple of punches and kicks here but pretty soon, I started to move, in ways I didn't even know I was capable of. I heard a noise behind me, metal slicing through air. A noise that is unmistakeable to me for obvious reasons.
What really shocked me was that when my blades met that one it didn't break or slice through it. This was going to be an interesting fight. I turned to face my attacker, covered head to toe in black, the sword gleaming. The rest of them seemed to back off, forming a circle, make shift ring around us. Maybe they knew me better than I thought.
Staring my opponent down we circled each other, his sword held defensively yet he seemed relaxed. I was getting antsy and really hated this whole showdown bullshit. So I approached, which my version of approach is not subtle or slow. I came at him fast, my claws being met by the blade and from there it turned into a dance, our music the clanking of our blades. Sparks flew with the intensity of the fight, the force of the blows. I hadn't felt this alive.. hell possibly ever. Not that I could remember.
Our dance went on for what seemed like hours, but in actuality I know it was only moments. The lithe form and grace of my opponent didn't escape me. This guy was good, but not good enough. Sweat started seeping through my clothes, the cuts I'd gotten healing, leaving only blood behind. Finally after every blow being blocked I heard a noise of pain and grinned when I saw the blood on my claws from where they'd made contact at his thigh.
They circle started to get closer, but suddenly stopped when my opponent barked a command. That made my brow raise. Honorable. Something you didn't find much of these days. I found an opprtunity and wound my claws through the blade of his sword, flinging it to the ground. My claws disappeared. Now both of us were weaponless. But this time he was on me first, moving so fast I barely saw or heard it. But damn did I feel it.
Finally I got him off me and held him down. I wanted to see my attacker. Reaching down I pulled the mask off and stumbled back in surprise. A woman, long black hair, pale skin, and green eyes, Definitely different for someone of Orient decent. My surprise was obvious on my face and she kicked me off. I landed heavily, still in a daze. They moved like ghosts, departing quickly. She was the last to leave, her hair a tail of ebony in the air. We'd meet again.
I got up and dusted off. That fight had ignited some old memories, ones I fought to push back. Dressed in black, holding a sword, moving so gracefully. Damnit. Why couldn't she leave me the fuck alone? She left me, but she won't stop haunting me.
But then there was the fight, it was exhilirating. Never felt adrenaline run through me like that. It was euphoric, the closest thing to an actual high I've ever felt. I needed to get the hell out of Japan and fast, something was coming after me and whatever it was, wasn't good. Whoever this Strucker was, something in my body told me it was bad news and I needed to know what The H.A.N.D was.
Answers. I needed them and I needed them fast. Still, there was a voice in the back of my head telling me not to be stupid and get the hell out of Dodge. Fortunately for me, I never was one accustomed to listening to voices. Even if they did sound like someone I didn't want to remember.