Blades and Fists | Flashback
@immortalweapon
Clint wiped his blade off on his sleeve and stared out into the rain. He might’ve given up the name, but he still had the eyes of a hawk. He noticed things moving in the shadows. A doorway whispering open. That’s when he moved forward, blade at the ready. But he didn’t swing it just yet.
He grabbed the skinny kid leaving and slammed him up against the wall. The katana was down at his side, and he tilted it just enough to catch the gleam of a street light. “You’re not the one I’m after,” he said in Japanese. “But you know where he is.”
The kid nodded, eyes wide. Clint wouldn’t hurt him, he had some humanity left, but he didn’t need to know that yet. “All I want to hear from you,” Clint continued. “Is an address. Then you get to go home, all your limbs intact.”
He angled the blade so that the glint of light fell across the kid’s throat. Clint saw his adam’s apple shift as he swallowed. He murmured an address, and Clint repeated it back to him. When the kid nodded, Clint let him go. He took off scampering down the alley.
Clint paused there for a moment. He wasn’t sure why. This was the first tangible lead he’d had in weeks. Towards something he didn’t even fully understand, but he knew enough to know they were dangerous. Ever since he started looking into them, he’d felt like he was being watched. The hair on the back of his neck standing up. He stayed still, katana in hand. Then he turned his head.
He gave up the name, but he still had the eyes. “I can see you,” he called out, turning to face the shadows. “You got a problem with something I did?”