Time is short lived here. The flowers bloom and die. The music begins and end, life starts and finishes. Time started long ago without a trace of where it came from. It cuts and slashes at us where we are weak. It forgets to stop.

The sun was shinning on the busy streets of Tokyo, the capital city of Japan. The cherry blossom trees were blooming; the first week of May. The river boats swam past on the rivers that break up the city. Foreigners were strolling by, gawking at the little porcelain objects displayed in the windows. Policemen roamed the streets, patrolling everywhere but the alleyways. The stupid visitors thought they were safe with security roaming the streets. The town was beautiful and friendly on the outside but it was far from safe. In the shadows nothing friendly lurked there. There are pick-pockets and thief’s. The group of people, monsters if you want, who murder and don’t care less.

“It’s so beautiful here.”

I shook my head. Stupid Americans. That’s what they all think the world is. Calm, friendly and beautiful. But why shouldn’t they? They have the free American lives in the United States. Ha. That’s what they are. Untied in greed and self-centeredness. Here, it is different. No liberty or peace. You want to survive, you keep to yourself. They don’t know. Not with those wealthy politicians trying to keep their income coming in. They don’t tell the people about the murderous group that hides in the darkness watching it’s prey. The group isn’t afraid to strike, whether in the blazing sun or in the shadows of the night. The Black Cross.

The group started with Anio Tsumaso, an assassin of the Azuchi-Momyama Period. He started the cult soon after the Battle of Sekigahara. He rose up against the federalists and went after the rich.

My prey was walking five paces ahead. Norika Dalki the son of the insurance agency president. I put my hand in my coat pocket and grabbed my pistol. Looking at my feet, I listened to the rhythm of his foot steps. We were trained to concentrate on the sounds of our prey, even in crowded areas. Looking up I saw him turn into an ally way. The way he knew was shorter in distance to the safety of his fathers house. Grinning I followed.

The only sounds that could be heard was Norika’s footsteps and the softened sound of the crowds. I was gloating to myself when I kicked a rock which I hadn’t seen. The boy in front of me tensed and quickened his pace. I growled and started running. He looked over his shoulder and started running. I chased after him, following wherever he went, gaining on him with ever step. He ran into a near by alleyway and stopped. I closed off the run way and grinned. He’d run into a dead end. I pulled out my gun, my Glock raised and aimed for his heart. Before he could utter a sound he fell to the ground dead. I leaned over the dead boy and took out a bottle filled with black paint. I unscrewed the lid and took out my paint brush. I turned his head to the side and painted a black cross on his cheek.

Putting the things back I turned and walked away leaving the bloody corpse in the dark ally. I came out into the public and walked down the street. Sitting down in the shade of a building I leaned back and closed my eyes.

Yes this world is not innocent. No one listens to words, it’s all done by actions. The Black Cross is the place I belong. The world is mean. Killing my parents and the people I love. I came to them when I was little. The leader of the cult is closest to me now. But even with that, I do not have the mind I used to. I have seen the murder and killing of innocent people. I’ve revenged but I keep yearning for more. They have taught me to grasp onto what I have now and use it for my advantage. Tears may come but even in my mind all I think now is the revenge I seek for the destruction of those who killed the my love.