The Traitor (updated 7/31)
Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2012 10:45 pm
I gave myself a writing assignment. Working from a folk song, I'm crafting a story using KS characters to fill the roles in the story, and the KS lexicon to populate its undercurrents. This is just the first taste of what will probably be only about 10,000 words. I'll keep the song to myself for now, but I will reveal it at the end.
The Traitor
~Preamble~
~Destiny~
______________________________________________________
Rustling through the brightly colored autumn treetops, a steady chill breeze crossed the darkened schoolyard. The pale moon rose high, showering the manicured lawn and carefully-tended gardens in a dim white glow and reflecting in the puddles left by a brief rainfall. The clouds that threatened to drown the night in their grim shadow had parted, and, at that, the young man bolted from his safe haven. His deep-set brown eyes scanned the darkness as he calmly walked to the rack outside the doors, and twisted the combination lock until it popped open; allowing him to extract his sleek, black bicycle from its clutches.
Hisao knew this meeting was meant to be secret, but that didn't stop him from being excited; quite the opposite, really. Wearing a ball-cap backwards, with a long raincoat draped across his shoulders and tied around his waist, he was prepared for incidental rain. Under the coat, he wore a warm sweater-vest over a gray dress-shirt – one of the ones she had given him. Long black pants covered his legs and water-proof black boots hid under the cuffs. The note had said to come prepared.
Finding his way around the patrols was simple enough. He memorized their routes weeks ago and knew they were unlikely to bother deviating from them unless he acted particularly conspicuous. The moonlight glimmering across his bicycle caught against the reflective surfaces and sent fleeting beams of light in every direction. From a distance, he would appear nothing more than a shadow upon a narrow, black chassis, coasting quietly as a ghost. Nothing truly out of the ordinary.
Since coming to Yamaku, he had become infatuated with her and it really wasn't a difficult decision when she asked him to join her rebellion – crusade, as it were. She was all that filled his thoughts as he pedaled down the cement pathways, angling his direction to come around the side of the building. For a chance to see her radiant, purple eyes looking upon him contentedly -lovingly- he would climb mountains and fight wars to whatever end.
The steady hum of the rubber tires gave way to rustling and bumping sounds as he rode over the grassy bask-side of the girls dorm. Insisting their meeting be via the window, she did not explain nor did he ask why. Not even the terrible half-truths spouted by his hall-mate could dampen his adoration. When he saw the shimmering moonlight reflecting off her opening window, he nearly fell off his bicycle, overcome with elation.
~
Sitting on her knees, dressed in her usual pink nightgown, she sat looking out through the curtain, listening to the flutter of her heart. The night had cleared and he would be coming soon, she knew; it made her smile wistfully. The darkness outside her window and in her room couldn't dull the brightness in her eyes as she peered through the glass and waited to see his grinning visage come into view. Hanako pressed her tiny nose against the window pane trying to catch a glimpse of him as soon as possible.
From beyond her room, a quiet, supportive voice called to her and she smiled. Lilly would have to wait until after their clandestine meeting to gain her attention, but the sound of her voice was reassurance enough. Summer had flown quickly and by its end, her lover was willing to do whatever she requested. Not out of pity or remorse or responsibility, but out of love. Gone were the days of timid anxiety and suspicion, of fear and trepidation over every word he spoke; he loved her, it was that simple. Convinced by his actions, she now knew his love was true, and she returned it wholly in kind.
When telling him of the rebellious plans she had become part of, he accepted his involvement without question; even being excited about the prospect. Careful planning had gone into this, she realized, and Hisao was a lynchpin to the operation – as important as any of the girls involved. Perhaps his role was even more important, because without his complicity the entire plan could be discovered and swiftly stricken down in its infancy. Hisao was worthy of their trust, though, and had already proven a skilled infiltrator.
~
The chill in the air made him think of war stories his grandfather told him over dim campfires during his youth. Binoculars held against his coke-bottle glasses, Kenji watched as the dimly lit figure rode through the darkened schoolyard. Takashi's intelligence report indicated it was none other than Hisao Nakai; riding through the night for a clandestine meeting with a lieutenant in the Feminist Uprising. From this distance, it was nothing more than a moving, dark blob, but Takashi's report was thorough.
“Hisao,” he spat the traitor's name and glared down at the broken whiskey bottle; the contents of which were now dribbling over the edge of the roof. Kenji scoffed at his own incompetence as he pulled the binoculars down. That wretched man had played him for a fool; feigning friendship and complicity while reporting all the happenings back to that scarred bitch. He had trusted Nakai with numerous secrets and plans; and all the while he was a turncoat – a contemptible double-agent.
Reaching down for his rifle, the thought occurred to him that even with his blurry eyesight, he could bring an end to Nakai's treachery with a steadily aimed bullet. Crouching, he leveled the gun and looked through the scope. The blurry form was speeding steadily toward the back of the girl's dorm; their operational base. Only a few seconds remained before the figure would slide behind the building and out of his line of sight.
He released the safety and took a deep breath, like his grandfather taught him, holding the gun steadily and tracking in front of the moving target. All that stood between Nakai and perdition was the millimeter of distance the hair-trigger required to begin its deadly work; propelling a bullet through the traitor's blackened heart.
Sweat beaded on his brow and the target continued to gain distance as his mind raced with a thousand memories. They were good memories of meeting the troubled fellow months ago, sharing whiskey and conversation with him on this very rooftop; having passionate discussions about the feminist agenda, and discussing his plans. Tainted memories, he knew now, but they still made him smile and stay his hand.
Finally, the figured slipped out of view and Kenji let out a frustrated sigh. Shoving the sniper rifle down and leaning against the wall, he cursed his weakness. Whatever Nakai had become, they were friends once and he didn't have the heart to outright kill him; especially by such a cowardly method. A man should be able to look his killer in the eyes before the darkness takes him; even a traitor deserves that. Packing the rifle back into its case, Kenji thought of a plan and decided to make use of some peripheral agents – true patriots. Nakai would face his doom soon; caught by that which had addled his mind – Hanako.
________________________________________________
Hope you don't mind stories heavy with prose and light on dialogue. I don't expect there to be much spoken dialogue except in references and very few actual spoken words.
The Traitor
~Preamble~
~Destiny~
______________________________________________________
Rustling through the brightly colored autumn treetops, a steady chill breeze crossed the darkened schoolyard. The pale moon rose high, showering the manicured lawn and carefully-tended gardens in a dim white glow and reflecting in the puddles left by a brief rainfall. The clouds that threatened to drown the night in their grim shadow had parted, and, at that, the young man bolted from his safe haven. His deep-set brown eyes scanned the darkness as he calmly walked to the rack outside the doors, and twisted the combination lock until it popped open; allowing him to extract his sleek, black bicycle from its clutches.
Hisao knew this meeting was meant to be secret, but that didn't stop him from being excited; quite the opposite, really. Wearing a ball-cap backwards, with a long raincoat draped across his shoulders and tied around his waist, he was prepared for incidental rain. Under the coat, he wore a warm sweater-vest over a gray dress-shirt – one of the ones she had given him. Long black pants covered his legs and water-proof black boots hid under the cuffs. The note had said to come prepared.
Finding his way around the patrols was simple enough. He memorized their routes weeks ago and knew they were unlikely to bother deviating from them unless he acted particularly conspicuous. The moonlight glimmering across his bicycle caught against the reflective surfaces and sent fleeting beams of light in every direction. From a distance, he would appear nothing more than a shadow upon a narrow, black chassis, coasting quietly as a ghost. Nothing truly out of the ordinary.
Since coming to Yamaku, he had become infatuated with her and it really wasn't a difficult decision when she asked him to join her rebellion – crusade, as it were. She was all that filled his thoughts as he pedaled down the cement pathways, angling his direction to come around the side of the building. For a chance to see her radiant, purple eyes looking upon him contentedly -lovingly- he would climb mountains and fight wars to whatever end.
The steady hum of the rubber tires gave way to rustling and bumping sounds as he rode over the grassy bask-side of the girls dorm. Insisting their meeting be via the window, she did not explain nor did he ask why. Not even the terrible half-truths spouted by his hall-mate could dampen his adoration. When he saw the shimmering moonlight reflecting off her opening window, he nearly fell off his bicycle, overcome with elation.
~
Sitting on her knees, dressed in her usual pink nightgown, she sat looking out through the curtain, listening to the flutter of her heart. The night had cleared and he would be coming soon, she knew; it made her smile wistfully. The darkness outside her window and in her room couldn't dull the brightness in her eyes as she peered through the glass and waited to see his grinning visage come into view. Hanako pressed her tiny nose against the window pane trying to catch a glimpse of him as soon as possible.
From beyond her room, a quiet, supportive voice called to her and she smiled. Lilly would have to wait until after their clandestine meeting to gain her attention, but the sound of her voice was reassurance enough. Summer had flown quickly and by its end, her lover was willing to do whatever she requested. Not out of pity or remorse or responsibility, but out of love. Gone were the days of timid anxiety and suspicion, of fear and trepidation over every word he spoke; he loved her, it was that simple. Convinced by his actions, she now knew his love was true, and she returned it wholly in kind.
When telling him of the rebellious plans she had become part of, he accepted his involvement without question; even being excited about the prospect. Careful planning had gone into this, she realized, and Hisao was a lynchpin to the operation – as important as any of the girls involved. Perhaps his role was even more important, because without his complicity the entire plan could be discovered and swiftly stricken down in its infancy. Hisao was worthy of their trust, though, and had already proven a skilled infiltrator.
~
The chill in the air made him think of war stories his grandfather told him over dim campfires during his youth. Binoculars held against his coke-bottle glasses, Kenji watched as the dimly lit figure rode through the darkened schoolyard. Takashi's intelligence report indicated it was none other than Hisao Nakai; riding through the night for a clandestine meeting with a lieutenant in the Feminist Uprising. From this distance, it was nothing more than a moving, dark blob, but Takashi's report was thorough.
“Hisao,” he spat the traitor's name and glared down at the broken whiskey bottle; the contents of which were now dribbling over the edge of the roof. Kenji scoffed at his own incompetence as he pulled the binoculars down. That wretched man had played him for a fool; feigning friendship and complicity while reporting all the happenings back to that scarred bitch. He had trusted Nakai with numerous secrets and plans; and all the while he was a turncoat – a contemptible double-agent.
Reaching down for his rifle, the thought occurred to him that even with his blurry eyesight, he could bring an end to Nakai's treachery with a steadily aimed bullet. Crouching, he leveled the gun and looked through the scope. The blurry form was speeding steadily toward the back of the girl's dorm; their operational base. Only a few seconds remained before the figure would slide behind the building and out of his line of sight.
He released the safety and took a deep breath, like his grandfather taught him, holding the gun steadily and tracking in front of the moving target. All that stood between Nakai and perdition was the millimeter of distance the hair-trigger required to begin its deadly work; propelling a bullet through the traitor's blackened heart.
Sweat beaded on his brow and the target continued to gain distance as his mind raced with a thousand memories. They were good memories of meeting the troubled fellow months ago, sharing whiskey and conversation with him on this very rooftop; having passionate discussions about the feminist agenda, and discussing his plans. Tainted memories, he knew now, but they still made him smile and stay his hand.
Finally, the figured slipped out of view and Kenji let out a frustrated sigh. Shoving the sniper rifle down and leaning against the wall, he cursed his weakness. Whatever Nakai had become, they were friends once and he didn't have the heart to outright kill him; especially by such a cowardly method. A man should be able to look his killer in the eyes before the darkness takes him; even a traitor deserves that. Packing the rifle back into its case, Kenji thought of a plan and decided to make use of some peripheral agents – true patriots. Nakai would face his doom soon; caught by that which had addled his mind – Hanako.
________________________________________________
Hope you don't mind stories heavy with prose and light on dialogue. I don't expect there to be much spoken dialogue except in references and very few actual spoken words.
