Ethan Natsukasa and Viollete Thompson ( A Next gen fic)

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Ethan Natsukasa and Viollete Thompson ( A Next gen fic)

Post  Tobedetermined on Tue May 08, 2012 4:03 pm

Why this not work right? I uploaded earlier and it failed...
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Re: Ethan Natsukasa and Viollete Thompson ( A Next gen fic)

Post  Tobedetermined on Tue May 08, 2012 4:04 pm

Ethan + Violette
Authers Note **This is the tale of Ethan Natsukasa and Violette Thompson. It takes place after the death of the Kisshin. Kid is Lord Death, and 18 years have passed. The world is growing peaceful, but our story starts with an act of amazing audacity. Ethan is 17, and Violette is 14.**
*At the start Ethan is only 13.*
Ethan screams in frustration. He’d followed a lead here, hoping that, finally he had caught up to her. A pair of figures come out from behind the buildings behind him. He turns around and bows to them, saying in turn, “Master. M’Lady Angela.”
Mifune raises an eyebrow, then says, “Very good. How’d you know it was me? It could have been one of the Guards, left behind to ambush you.”
“Only you are that silent, Master. The guards would have been breathing louder. You control your breathing unconsciously, making you invisible for the most part. They would have hit a stone or two, and also they wouldn’t have the same wavelength as you.” Ethan responds. “As for Angela, I’d recognize her perfume anywhere. It helps to be downwind when you are wearing perfume.” He shrugs, then says, “I missed her by half a day, 18 hours tops. I swore I’d protect her, but the first thing that happened was Maaba kidnapped her. I will find her Master,” he wrinkles his brow, confusion setting in, “Master, why are you here?”
“Lord Death told me to tell you to return. The hunt is off.” Mifune says, calmly looking into his pupils gaze.
“No! I won’t stop! I’m going to find her.” Ethan starts, when Mifune interrupts him.
“I know that. That’s why I came to train you before letting you go further. In exchange, you give me two years of your time. In that time, I will make you strong enough to save her.” Mifune says. “We both have things we’d like to teach you. At the end of your training we shall help you find her.”
Ethan looks into Mifune’s gaze, then says, “You swear on your life, Master?”
“I swear upon my life and all I hold dear.” Mifune vows solemnly.
“I shall hold you to your word master.” Ethan responds, sealing the pact that would one day bring them both pain beyond imagining.
*************************************************************************************************************************************************************Three Years Later*
“I’m so sorry, master.” Ethan says, kneeling before the memorial stone to Mifune. He drew the blade Mifune gave him, and cuts his palm, a shallow cut that would bleed enough for his purposes. He clenches his fist and swears upon the pain he felt, “As long as I draw breath, and so long as I have strength in my limbs to move, I shall search until I find her. I Shall protect her. I Swear it to you Master. I Swear it.”
Ethan stands, and sheathes the blade, then starts to wrap the cut in a bandage when he hears, almost like a whispering wind, there and then gone, “I know you will. You will do me proud Ethan.” He does not see him. He understands what this meant. Mifune was telling him that he had heard. He was telling him he’d been given the choice to either walk the path of the bushin, or of the demon.
He stands up slowly, turning around. “Let’s go, Angela. We are going to get the men who did this. They won’t get away this time, not after that. I was too naive in my belief that they’d show mercy. Well, they can find no mercy from me. He may forgive them, but their souls are mine, endangered when they touched her, forfeit when they killed him.”
Angela stands silent, watching the young man swear a blood oath. Mifune had trained the young man well. He was just like him, always ready to help the weak. He really had had a way about him, an aura that drew children to him, made them feel safe around him. He was a protector, and the children could sense that. Ethan was the other side of the same coin. He was bound to the path of the protector, driven to the path of the avenger.
“Ethan, remember what he taught you. Never strike an enemy down for no reason. Don’t cover yourself in their blood; your soul would never be clean again after that.” Angela says quietly, then her face turns mildly bloodthirsty. “Remember down that way lies the path of the demon, and, should you head down that road, there can be no redemption. You shall ever be stained, forever atoning for your sin.”
“M’lady, I know that. I can’t let them get away with it. My father made his own path, just as I shall make mine. My father was a protector. The greatest man I know was a protector. I am a protector, but I am also an avenger, the one whose fist shall strike the men who have harmed others for no reason. I shall follow this path, wherever it may lead. I owe it to those I’ve sworn to protect, but especially to those I was to weak to protect. If it leads to hell, I can hold my head up, and continue on.” Ethan says, then a little morbidly, “Hell is all that awaits me, but, those who harmed the ones I love and swore to protect, well, they shall dine with me.”
Angela stands silent, wishing to comfort the young man, but, knowing in her soul that he was right. She turns, then says, “Let’s go. We have a lead that we ought to track down, before it goes cold and we have to start all over.” She turns to walk away, when the crack of a rifle booms out across the cold dreary memorial site. She looks down and gasps in surprise, a red circle blossoming on her left breast. She lets out a startled cry, then collapses.
Ethan stares dumbly, not comprehending what had happened. He grasps her limp wrist to check for a pulse, but it was gone. He allows her limp arm fall to the ground. He stands, then, something inside him snaps. He races across the memorial site, heading to where he had heard the shot, ready to rip whoever harmed her limb from limb.
Another crack splits the air, and blood wells up in the shallow wound on his shoulder. He looks up, and sees a figure in black with a rifle a few hundred meters ahead. The figure pulls back the bolt, opening the breach, and a casing flies out. To Ethan, it was in slow motion. The figure raises the rifle to his shoulder and aims at Ethan. Ethan weaves, all the while, the path the bullet would fly mapped out before him. The figure lets out a frustrated growl, and fires.
Once more Ethan feels the burn of the bullet, but this time at this range he still dodged a lethal shot, taking the bullet in his upper arm. Ethan closes in on the man, who drops the rifle and pulls a wickedly serrated hunting blade. Ethan pulls his blade out of the sheathe, swinging mightily at the man. The man must have been well trained, as he stopped the blade and swiped at Ethan, who leaps back. “Who are you?” Ethan asks, perplexed. Only a Shibusiun student moved that well.
“Your doom. You should have never gone after her. You’ve been peeking in corners better left forgotten. My boss is greatly displeased.” The shadowy figure responds. While he was speaking he picked up the rifle once more.
It all clicks for Ethan. Here before him was the one who had spirited Violette out of the academy. Here was his chance to get revenge for all those years ago. A memory races through his mind, a flash of pain, then blackness. “Why didn’t you kill me then?” He asks, recognizing at last the figure before him.
“I prefer not to kill when possible.” The voice says. “She knew too much and was a liability to my boss.”
“I’ll kill you one day. I hope you know that. You are mine. I don’t care that Shinigami-sama wants you alive. I will kill you.” Ethan says.
The man laughs, then says, “One day little one, one day.” He raises the butt of the rifle too his shoulder. “But in your next life.” He pulls the trigger.
Ethan sees his life pass before his eyes, and for the second time in his life, he cheats death. He dives to the left, and as he does, the bullet grazes his temple. He passes out, and falls.
He looks around an unfamiliar landscape and asks aloud, “Where am I.” A Voice responds calmly, informing him he was in the Halls of the Star Clan. The voice has a bitter fine edge in the way it speaks, a jealousy barely concealed. It speaks once more to him. “Little Brother,” the voice says, “Whats the matter? You are Weak,” The voice taunts, then says, “Take our power for now, but know this. It comes with a price, and it is higher than it seems. Until the next time.” A wind blows him backwards, and he feels the weight of reality return.
Then he opens his eyes, and they are the eyes of the Demons of the Star clan. He springs into action, launching himself at the man. He swings his blade, and the finely honed edge slices through the iron and wood. He grabs the figures cloak and pulls it back. He looks full in the face of the one who had kidnapped her all those years ago.
The shock made his eyes return to their normal state as he sputters and struggles to comprehend. Below him was a figure whom he’d respected. This couldn’t be right. “How could you…? Your dead…” the words die in his throat as the man punches out swiftly. His eyes roll back in his skull.
“Whoo-ee that was a close one. Can’t have you figuring it out too soon. Don’t want to ruin my surprises,” The man says pulling up his hood. “I’ll be waiting.”
A year passes, and Ethan followed the lead he and Angela had been after. It had been in vain that she had died. He had finally an address and a location from someone he could trust. He packed his bag with all the survival gear he’d need to survive for a week while hunting for her. He stops and prepares himself for what lay ahead. He’d been given Angela’s soul when he’d came too, after the death scythes investigated. He’d wanted to tell them who it was, but he had to be sure. He’d consumed the soul, at the behest of Dr. Stein, who’d wanted to test a theory and had never had the opportunity. A week later, he’d started to have a strange feeling inside of him.
Stein told him that was magic, and that he’d need to learn to control it. And so he’d spent every night since practicing using it. He’d gotten to the point he could summon objects he bound to his soul. He’d quickly gone to the weapons chest that had been Mifune’s last gift to him, and had pulled out Mifune’s sword holders. He’d bound them to himself, and they’d become part of his soul. He could summon them at will.
******************************************************************************
Ethan perched on a telephone pole, crouched, observing. Below him was Anson’s vast compound. He knew this was it. It was almost done. He lightly leaps down, landing behind the wall that surrounded the compound. It was supposed to keep him out, but in reality, it kept them in. He grins a feral grin. Let it begin. He used the skills he’d learned from his father to slip deep into the compound, unnoticed.
He hits a guard in the back of the neck, and catches him before he falls. He hides the bodies off to the side and resumes his riot through the complex. He senses a large group of guards and slips back into the shadows.
******************************************************************************
Violette weeps silently, her whole body shuddering. She tries to stifle the noise, because if Anson heard he’d be very angry. He beat her with his whip when he was angry. The memories made her cry harder, and the floor creaks as the handle turns. She tries to hide in the corner, curled in a ball trying to make herself smaller so that he couldn’t hit her as much.
Anson steps into the cell, and Violette lets out a wail of agony. Anson brings his wrist back, and flicks it forward, the whip striking Violette’s exposed and unprotected back. She shrieks as the nerves in her tender skin send a burst of fire into her head. Anson strikes again, and she shrieks louder.
******************************************************************************
Ethan heard the first shriek of pain, and it made him angry. Then he heard a second shriek. He abandons his plan to sneak through silently, and races down the corridors towards the shrieks that could only be coming from her. A guard attempts to stop him, but he is past, the guard falling slowly, dead before he hit the ground.
******************************************************************************
Anson pulls back the whip, his anger fueling a strike harder than he intended. The strike whistles as the end of the whip slices through the air. Then it hits flesh. Anson can hardly believe his eyes. Before him stood a teenage boy, who’d just taken one of his hardest strikes without flinching.
“I’ll kill you for hitting her,” Ethan says in a conversational tone, “and then, a second time for running instead of fighting me all those times through the years. But first, I’m going to make sure she is safe, I’d rather not have you lashing out at her in my presence.”
Anson gets a little grin, and says, “Are you so sure?” He lashes out at Violette once more in spite. Ethan moves his body between the whip and her unprotected body. Ethan laughs and looks at him. He grasps the whip, and pulls Anson off balance.
“You think I am a little kid who you can beat up, or a little girl too weak to defend herself. That’s why you beat on her. Now get out of my way.” Violette looks at the white-haired teen in front of her. She pouts, and starts to speak.
“Can’t take care of my self? Little Girl? Weak?” She gets progressively angrier. “For your information….” She starts to say when Ethan interrupts.
“Your rescuer is always right. Even if he says the sky is purple and made of unicorns.” Ethan says, turning to face her, throwing in a theatrical foot stomp.
“Are you two quite finished yet? I don’t think she wants your help, boy.” Anson says smirking. Well, in that case, I suppose I can allow you to walk out of here. Go on, the doors right there,” Anson said waving his arm in the direction of the door.
Ethan grows angry and picks Violette up and throws her over his shoulder. “Move.” He says simply, eyes flashing.
Anson looks genuinely shocked then amused. He stands, silently debating allowing the kid to walk out. He had spunk. “I’ll make you a deal. Fight me. If you win you can go free. If I win, you stay and protect my complex.”
“Rules?” Ethan asks, smiling. This was going to be fun.
“Five minute Bouts. Live steel, match is three bloods, and lethal force is allowed.” Anson says, challenging the boy.
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