Needle's Eye

"Who's the next hunt?" Seth asks, propped on a tree, crushing the grass under his feet to pass the time. Nixon thinks to himself for a moment, counting money between his fingers.

"We'll just have to find out - visiting the sheriff's office will do."

A voice comes from behind them, "Hey, are you guys, poachers?"

Seth turns around with a casual turn as if nothing was wrong, "Nope, we're just waiting here, contemplating." The man was Japanese, his expression filled with solace, his short black hair slicked back with oil, a small goatee sitting in the middle of his chin, his jaw visibly tense. "You're Japanese right?"

Nixon arches an eyebrow, chipping away at some wood he found, "You can tell?"

Seth points to his hip, then motions to the Japanese man, Nixon nods in affirmation, "Yeah, I'm Japanese," The man shakes the katana on his hip, wearing a black military uniform with white lining, the symbol of a hawk on his right breast. "Tsukiyama Matsumoto,"