The Mist was cold and heavy. Not an ideal place to be, but it was home, for now.

She'd heard of places in the world that didn't operate on the same principles as Kiri. Greener places. Lighter places. Most places were said to be like that, actually. Even the harder of the great villages, while tough in their methods, could never match Kirigakure in its sheer...brutality. There was no place for weakness in the cover of the mist, and there were few options to pick from. You could hide, and hope you hide well. Or you could fight. Armed with a stolen tanto and facing down another child, stale food scraps gripped tightly in his hands as he slowly edged away from her, Ameyuri Ringo made her choice.

There was no talk; it was clear what each child wanted. The eerie silence of the alleyway was only broken by the soft and methodical taps of bare feet crossing wet earth in the dark. Her opponent's gaze never left her. He was being careful, wary of her. Her weapon was held stiff in her hand, the blade facing away from her as she tried to think.

'If he just gave them over, this would be so much easier.'

It would be hard not to miss that such an option might not be possible; the boy's ribs were clear against his skin, and those eyes that stared at her in a mixture of fear and rage were sunken with malnourishment. But the thought remained. She had to eat as well, and she was the one with the weapon, looted from the body of a dying genin, bloody and stuck along the edge of a dank and muddy river.

She stood with these thoughts in mind, that she was the one in control, with the means to live through this. That the boy was starving, and though Ringo was hungry, she would live. That the boy had what he needed, and what she wanted. That he was on the wrong end of the alley. That he was trapped. And that he was trapped with her.

The silence was cracked by splashes as she ran, breaking the still puddles that littered the dirt to reach her target. Her tanto raised above her, and slashed down, cutting the boy across the arm as he turned his body to protect the food. A scream of pain erupted from the child as blood spilled from the gash. He ducked, and tried to run past her, but she managed to knock him back against the alley wall with her shoulder. The lines were clear. Two children, two plans. Attack, and run. Predator, and prey.

She had nothing to fear. This boy was no threat to her. This was her win to take, and she would take it without hesitation. She would live.

The boy's breath caught as his back struck the stone wall, and panic replaced the determined wariness he'd held till now. Ringo brought the blade of her tanto back around as he pushed off the wall in a desperate attempt to get around her, and fall back into the thick cover of the ever encroaching mists. He stumbled over her, and though she caught him in the leg, his sudden move got him to the right side of the alley. His steps were broken, shambling, but the threat of death was a strong motivator to ignore the pain. Ringo knew that well. He was fleeing for his life, and he had his chance to get away.

A sudden anger swept through her as she gave chase down the alley. Anger that she let him get into this position. Anger that he wasn't dead yet. And besides that anger was the all familiar pang of fear.

"No!"

Ringo wouldn't let him get away. Not with her food. Not when she was so close to getting them. Her steps were fueled by the same consuming rush the boy himself had. She would not die. Not in this village. Not this early. Not from hunger. Not yet.

She leapt and caught across his back, using the force of her jump to drag the boy downward, the two falling against the damp earth they fought on with her on top. Growls and short, broken shouts of rage and fear filled the air as she held him in place, raised her sword, and brought it down hard into his stomach, sinking as deep as it could go.

His scream pierced their miniature battlefield, but could never hope to break through the mist he was so close to reaching. Ringo slid out the tanto from his gut, now covered in blood. And she brought it down again into him with a sickening squish. He screamed louder. She brought her sword out, up, and down again. He was still screaming, so she stabbed again. Quickly, his screams started to quiet, and mixed with crying. Even quicker his crying turned to a mess of choking, as blood seeped up his throat, and was coughed out.

Ringo sat atop him panting for air, both hands gripping the handle of her blade until her knuckles turned white. The backs of her hands were splashed with blood, and she could only look down at the child's still face, blood flowing from his stomach and chest and slowly escaping his mouth. Her head turned to the side. Even in death, he still held the food he'd found. Her food, now. She coughed, and wiped against her face, where blood was speckled against her skin from his sputtering.

She leant over, grabbed the scraps, and stood.

Only one walked away with the means to survive. A path was chosen, and with a dull burn in her chest, Ameyuri Ringo stepped back into the mist's cover. Having a weapon, while being a large advantage, could still only do so much for her. She had to practice, and for now, meal secured, she had time to do so. After all, the first kill is rarely the last, especially in this damn village.

Ringo was in no position to stop now.

AN: Because if anyone needs a bit more love, it's Ringo.
Sharp toothed badass swordswoman? Yes.
This is happening.

Buckle up y'all, cause this is gonna be a long one!
This story's going to update weekly, a new chapter every Friday evening.
Hope you're all looking forward to chapter one, because I'm looking forward to posting.

Big thanks to Luxememoria, who you can find on twitter with the handle luxememoria, and on tumblr with the same name.
Provided some amazing commissioned work that is the cover art for this story, and an incredible artist.

See you all next week!
Enjoy.