Chapter 1: Silence

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If you haven't read it yet, please read the first of the "Avenger" series, "Avenger: Demon of the Shadows," before continuing on with this story!

This is the second book of my Avenger series, which is currently on hiatus.

I do not own any Naruto characters or settings. I only own my OCs, including Musei Shiro.

This chapter contains little descriptions of blood.

I hope you enjoy the story of Shiro, the Weeping Samurai of the Land of Iron!

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"Your stance is weak," a man grunted as his white katana clashed with an incoming blade. He dodged the next blow with equal effortlessness before scratching the graying dark hair lining his sharp jaw.

"Hai." The little girl who had slashed her weapon at him nodded once in understanding, a bead of sweat dripping on the side of her pale brow. She leaped back and held the silvery-white blade in front of her face. She closed her eyes and exhaled a long breath slowly through her mouth; there was much silence that swept the area, only the whislting of the wind brushing against the tall grass present in the open field. She suddenly flashed her dark eyes open again, the intensity burning inside her large orbs menacing and lethal.

The little girl launched herself at her sensei, her own white blade seeming to look like a flash of white lightning as she slashed it about.

"Haaah!" she bellowed, her loose linen dress rippling in the wind.

The clang of metal rang in the valley once more.

The dark haired man crouched below the small girl, his snowy blade that was identical to hers crossed the incoming sword creating an "X" shape.

"Not bad," the man scoffed as he smirked.

"Tousan," the little girl huffed, addressing her father. Her dark eyes flickered up in the sky, studying the position of the sun.

"Run along now, Shiro," the man chuckled as he patted his daugher's head. "Your mother will be quite angry with me if I keep you any longer."

"Hai!" the little girl chimed as she stepped back and bowed to her father and sensei, presenting him her sheathed katana.

The man nodded and took the thin white scabbard from her small hands, the little girl running off into the direction of the small village by the shore. Her short snowy hair fluttered in the wind as she sprinted back to her home, her father staring after her with loving sea-blue eyes.

Shiro ran into the village on the only small dirt path that lead further up past the mountains. Lined along the winding dusy road were several wooden huts, elevated up about a meter high from the ground with strong thick timbers. Her heavily beaten straw zori kicked up the dirt as she stomped up the wooden stairs of one house at the end of the lane, overlooking the clear blue waters of the ocean that dropped below the cliff the village was built on. Shiro opened the creaky plank that stood as the door and slipped off her zori sandals, the wooden plank behind her shuttering as it slammed shut.

The hut consisted of only three small rooms: the main room, which was the biggest, with a low table in the center, surrounded by four various colored cushions, the parents' room, and the children's room.

"Shiro!" a voice called from the main room.

"Sumimasen, Kaasan!" Shiro squeaked as she thumped on the worn tatami floors over to her mother who stood in the corner of the main room, preparing dinner on a short counter. A small stove burned quietly next to her, a pot of rice boiling on top.

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