White. All the eye could see was swallowed in a torrent of biting, frozen white. The winds howled, wiping away any chance one could have of seeing their hand in front of them. A figure arose from the icy winds, body rapped in a parka, nowhere near enough to protect them from the cold. She carried in her arms a wooden box, and trudged through the waist-deep snow, pausing every five steps to breathe. There was a lapse in the wind. Not much, just enough to make the traveler's surroundings clear. She looked to the mountain pass up ahead, a small stone building billowing smoke from its chimney. She kicked out the snow directly in front of her, but before she could take another step, she heard something over the wind, "Tsk, tsk, tsk..."

The traveler spun around to see her master standing before her in the trench she had dug for herself, winding all the way down the mountainside. He wore black robes which clashed with his long white hair. "You choose destruction to achieve your goals, even peaceful ones." said the master. He didn't seem to mind the cold, despite being even more poorly clad than her.

"The criticism is getting tiresome, old man." she hissed, continuing to force herself through the snow. The man simply laughed. "Stubbornness is not a trait of the strong, child." he said calmly, watching her labor through the banks of powder, "And why do you walk through the snow?"

The girl sighed angrily, "And what other options would I have?" She got her answer as her sempai casually strolled over the surface of the snow beside her, not sinking even an inch into the tall powder as he passed her by, walking with his arms folded behind his back towards the house. She simply watched in astonishment as he did. After a moment of rest, she continued.

By nightfall, the girl arrived at the steps of the house. Her teacher was waiting for her. Apparently, he had been standing there all this time, given how much snow was heaped on his shoulders. She groaned weakly and collapsed on the steps before her master. "You strive to make things harder than they should be, don't you?" he asked.

"Please..." the student sighed, "I haven't eaten in days... just let me go to bed without the lecture."

"Come now, don't you care what is in that box you walked all the way down to the village to retrieve, and carried all the way back?"

"Not particularly." she grumbled.

The master bent down and snatched the wooden box from her, helping her up to her feet. She pulled down her hood, revealing the young, slender face of a vengeful soul, draped in long, raven hair the same dismal shade as her heart. Her expression was listless and cold. The man held out the box. "You should." he said, opening the lid, "After all, how are we to eat... without the appropriate untensils?" Her eyes lit up as she looked down and saw the contents of the box, two pairs of chop sticks.

Inside, the two sat across from each other on the floor. She had done away with her damp, cold clothes. She wore only her black undershirt and pants. The undershirt had no sleeves, and one could easily see the furious red serpent etched into her young skin by old ink. The master and the student sat in silence and ate. He patiently lifted the noodles to his mouth and ate slowly while she ferociously devoured her food. He watched with a quaint smile on his face.

"Why do you laugh, sempai?" she asked bitterly.

"I enjoy laughing." he replied, continuing to eat.

"I don't."

The master wiped his lip and set his bowl on the ground. She looked down at the empty bowl, baffled as to how he had finished before her. He folded his hands and looked at her. "Why are you here, child?" the teacher asked. She drank the rest of her noodles and set down her bowl. She averted her eyes and answered plainly, "I wish to kill a man."

The master furrowed his brow. "Kill a man? For what reason?"

"Revenge." she answered in the same cold monotone.

The teacher recoiled as if the word had left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Revenge. That is an ugly word, child, and it represents something far uglier. Revenge has no place in the world. It destroys, not only the victim, but the vindicator."

"Perhaps I wish to destroy. Perhaps I don't care if I am destroyed as well."

"Your anger is poisoning you, child. What could one man do to infect your mind with such unwavering hunger for vengeance?"

"He could take everything from me." she snarled.

"And who is this man? Who have I been training you to kill all this time?"

The girl reached into her pocket and drew a tattered piece of yellowed paper. She unfolded it and looked with heavy heart at the image inscribed on it, then passed it to her teacher. He looked over the image, a drawing of chaotic dark inks laid to paper by painful memories. Together, the dashing lines formed the character of a man, clad in a jacket and mask. Across his chest were four straps, joining in a round crest with the symbol of an arrow on it, and over his back was slung a full quiver. His mask was featureless aside from the two eyes, and one of them was large, round and red. The red ink had been pressed to the paper with the grooves of the artist's own fingerprint. It was blood. "Ah..." the teacher said at last, "He has been here."

"What?!" the girl snapped, almost jumping to her feet.

"Yes. He arrived on my doorstep one year ago. He was far more disciplined than you, but he carried a heart just as heavy."

"What do you mean?"

"He confessed to me his story. Each word was painful to him. He said that he had become overwhelmed with remorse for his crimes. He wished for me to set him on the path to redemption. I taught him everything I could and sent him off to my colleague, Akube of Bandari for further guidance in his rebirth. After all, I am more a fighter than I am a spiritualist."

The calm was broken as the girl's bowl crashed against the stone wall, shattering. "Fool!" she cried, "You knew who he was, and you let him slip through your fingers!"

"He has changed. I told you--"

"He lied! He is a serpent, that's his way! A creature like him can't be redeemed. I know what he really is, and I will hunt him down whether you help me or not!"

The master was silent. He listened to her frantic, angry breathing. "What if you are wrong?" he whispered.

"What did you say?!" she bellowed.

"Perhaps he is not the monster you have cast him as in your mind, the soulless demon who stole from you everything you loved. Maybe it is time to let go of your hatred and allow yourself a happy life." he looked up at her solemnly as he said, "Maybe it is time to forgive."

The young girl stepped back from her teacher. She looked away and thought carefully, eyes closing determinedly as she reached her decision.

Standing on the snow just as he had shown her, the girl looked back at the old house and lifted the hood of her parka as it erupted into flames. She walked down the dark path, the house burning like a torch to light her way. She never looked back.