The first warning
She had flown back to the hut, tears streaming down her face the whole way. She was lost and the man who could help her had thought her a liar. He had tested her. He had been cruel.
She had tried since the attack to balance her reactions to men. They were not all like him. Some were kind and gentle. But here was another example that she should not trust.
She had gone to find him with many questions. Most remained unanswered.
But she had figured out for herself something that had perplexed her. In the trackers presence, particularly when she was close to him, or he touched her, she had felt physically ill and dreadfully lethargic. He was not unattractive, despite his crude approach to her in the marketplace. This had never happened before with any man, and there had been a couple. But then she had not been close to any man since the attack.
At first she thought it to be a lack of courage. But sitting with the tracker around his small fire, she had unwittingly recalled what the man had done and said after he had assaulted her.
She had fought for twenty minutes before he threw her on that boulder. Twenty long minutes, ten of those with her jian. But he had a much longer reach with his katana, and with each block she grew tired. He was so much stronger. The slash down her side had been vicious but precise. She had released her grip on her jian to hold her nightdress together. That was all it took. Laughing at her he was upon her in a second. She had struck him with her fist, and the blow hit home opening the skin above the eye. He had smiled. "Toraneko, I like that."
She had been flung, almost tossed as if she weighed nothing at all face down on the boulder. He had been rough, exceptionally rough, her hip and rib bones grinding into the hard stone. She felt as if she was being ripped apart. When he was done, he turned her over and she thought with horror he was going to do it all over again. He pushed the hair back from her face. She wished he hadn't, it was the only thing between her and those piercing eyes.
They cut her, invaded her soul.
So it was to her surprise that after pushing the hair back from her face that he had kissed her, passionately. "Mine now my little toraneko. No other man can have you." He had said this to her in a coarse whisper, passion filling every word, breathing the hot words into her lungs he was so close. Making it hard for her to hold onto sanity. She felt as if she was slipping into madness. He was branding her. Searing his mark on her.
At the time she thought he had meant that she would never be able to let another man touch her. She would be so harmed when he had finished with her, that she would never be whole again.
After the kiss and his little speech he had hit her hard across the side of the head. She had rolled off the rock and fallen heavily on the ground, so strong was the blow. She had glanced up at him, trying to push herself up onto her feet. She had learned in training that the ground was a bad place to be, she was vulnerable there. But god, he was so strong it seemed to matter little what defensive position she put herself in. He had laughed at her again. And she felt a wave of anger invigorate her. As she stood up she grabbed a rock, a little bigger than her hand, and she threw it hard at his head. She aimed for his nose, figuring if she was off target she might still hit. He saw it, managing to move a little but too late to avoid it all together. She heard a sickening crack as the rock hit his temple. He fell to the ground and she ran fast for her jian that lay on the ground a few feet away, close to her traveling robes. He had grabbed her ankle somehow and dragged her to the ground. She kicked furiously with her free leg. She heard him say over and over "Fight little toraneko". Then somehow she got her ankle free and had the jian in her hand running away from the boulder, from the man who had taken what was not his, as fast as her legs would carry her.
She had been terrified flying away from him. She knew he was the better flyer and hoped that the rock had caused some sort of concussion. She needed some advantage to fall her way. She did not hear him on the wind again that night and made it to safety. She had been taken in by some kind people. They had helped her and she would always be grateful for that. And she had blocked from her memory those words said with such desire, spoken into her soul.
She wiped the tears away from her face and took a deep breath. She was back at her hut now and the painful memories had passed. But the realisation had hit her. She was branded.
It was only when the tracker had asked her about the attack that she had remembered. The kiss had been a curse, if any man came close to her, touched her, she would feel incredibly ill, she would be incapable of reacting to any potential attraction. He had killed that part of her.
She had no idea if he had intended to let her live. Perhaps it was a sick game he wanted to play, take her, curse her and then release her. Let her suffer, knowing that she can never love or be loved by any other man. She would always be his.
And then to come back one day, the tracker certainly thought he would. She sat on her bed trying to calm herself.
He was going to come back to claim what was his. Oh god, she could not go through that again. If the tracker could find her.... she had to leave, and leave now. The sudden urgency of her predicament fired her with action. She had to go.
She packed a few belongings and some food hastily. Her hands shook and she had difficulty putting everything into the small satchel. She almost ran through the door, slamming it behind her. A blast of cold air hit her face, and she felt as if she had been slapped. It stopped her instantly.
It was a warning. This time she felt it with clarity. He is coming for you the wind whispered from the east he rides.
She ran and launched off a small knoll to the side of the hut. She flew low over the valley, then past the small village where she was known, where it was easy for her to be found.
She fled north to the big city, to Tokyo.
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