“Mira, snap out of it. We got a target to eliminate.”

With a jolt, Mira came back to reality. The one who spoke those words in front had elbowed her right in the ribs.

“Chantou”, Mira said, wiping the drool from her lips, “Weren’t you on look out?”.

“For a minute. Then you had to go into your trance just when the meeting started.”

Dozing off in the middle of a job? If Mira’s peers and elders saw her then that would be another night without food. Did their talk about advanced engineering concepts fried her brain enough to knock her out cold? Lately she’s been out of her game lately, and this incident may as well be grounds for termination.

“Remember the plan?” Chantou said, indifferent rather than annoyed.

“Uhh… err...”

“Three guards with rifles by the entrance, two professors center sitting at the table. I take out the guards and you take out the headmaster.”

Oh right, we’re on a mission.

Thus they were crouched in an airway of an acclaimed academic institution awaiting the opportunity to strike. Chantou dealing with the guards seemed like a no-brainer given how gifted she was at the art of killing, yet she probably would’ve been better off dispatching the more important figure by that logic.

“Since you’re shorter than me, you have a better shot at eliminating the target.” She had said, but since when did height matter in assassination? In fact, Chantou could have soloed this whole mission. Why was Mira here with her? She’d been out of her game ever since she first picked up a weapon. There was little sense in having her handle such a decisive job given her recent performance. Maybe this was disguised as a test to prove she could meet the bare minimum in their line of work. She wouldn’t be surprised if it already started.

Hah. If that dream was any indication, I’ve already failed.

The events in that reality proved otherwise.

Right, because in that dream…

“Is this final faculty meeting needed? All the necessary steps and precautions have been taken care of since the last.” One man below tapped a finger on the table. He would’ve emitted an imposing, irritated aura if not for the droop in the eyes and his stubble had likely gone for days without shaving. He scratched at it, frowning a bit more.

Mira could feel her own eyelids drooping in turn—until another elbow to the ribs jolted her. Chantou’s red eyes remained focused.

“Merely one final confirmation…” The other man across said while retrieving a file folder from a messenger bag. He on the other hand didn’t seem to belong to any academy whatsoever, instead choosing to wear a suit lined with yellow tassels and cords.

“Like I said, everything’s taken care of.”

“...to a proposal for a modification to the system, Professor Argus.”

“A—A proposal?! This late into the project?” Argus’s sudden jump from his chair was quickly dismissed by the man’s ‘get a hold of yourself’ gesture.

“You should already know what this entails, don’t you?”

“I’m afraid we shouldn’t act irrationally! Who’s foolish enough to even consider the thought?”

“It’s rather that interesting developments have occurred since then. Enough that the higher-ups decided it was a good idea to propose the change.”

“And? What change will that be?” He leaned closer, but the other remained unphased.

“They said we were to use a child with limitless Aoi potential as fuel. Do not worry, the engineers say the transfer will only take a day without significant changes to the underlying systems.”

A long pause drew.

“A human source…” Argus muttered as he sat down. “The ethicality of it all.”

“It took generations of neuroscientists, chemists, physicists, biologists, dozens of papers, debunked or innovative, to drive the research of Aoi to this point.” The militant man said. “If we can somehow harness the power of Aoi for the greater development of mankind, then there will be progress like no other in our history. Public relations are on the line from all nations, Chordia, Alkai, and Scandia.” He slid out the only document from the file folder and passed it over.

Argus, reluctantly skimming through, scowled. “This is why I hate working for defense, Lt. Colonel Shepherd.”

“You did say that you were looking for a career change.” A tone filled with friendliness and goodwill.

“But to end my current one with such a shameful decision?” With a sigh, Argus took out a pen. “With all due respect, here’s hoping for a better work life balance.”

Chantou raised her hand. The signal. Guess Mira would mention her dream at a later time.

“What the—?!”

A crash above.

It all happened in an instant, the black debris of the vent with all its chemical compounds, the two shadowy figures encircling the area, and the muffled cries without a single gunshot.

Of course, it was Mira’s turn to act. With a strike, her blade pierced into Argus’s chest, the blood shading his suit in a shade of crimson. The chair landed with a thump with their combined weight forcing them both to the ground. She’d expect the screams to end there, but the man’s terrified, confused look proved otherwise.

“Augh!” Argus’s voice quivered as he clutched the bleeding wound. Looking up, he croaked at the sight of a figure with a blade in her hand. “Wh—who are you?!”

Too shallow…!

He caught a glimpse behind the assailant only to find darkness. “Sh—Shepherd?!” His business partner was already gone. Argus’s hand was already inside his suit, and out he pulled a cellphone.

“Crap…!”

Alarms and reinforcements. The worst case scenario that can happen to an assassin. —But not a second later, the cellphone garnered a shiny red hue and dropped to the ceramic flooring. A blade had seemingly pierced into the same spot Mira had carved. The document, now splattered in the same crimson shade, floated peacefully until it rested onto a foot. Looking up, Chantou had finished the job, her long black hair falling to her back. Yeah, she definitely could’ve soloed this herself.

・・・・・

“I always disliked the smell of blood.”

The two walked past the same sight of animal carcasses after their trip. The butcher, established by the entrance whether intentionally or not, was always there to greet them after a trip out of the village.

“Why if it isn’t the Reaper! Welcome ba—Hey wait!”

Mira and Chantou returned the worker a hollow smile back as they fast-walked past the sight and stench of raw meat.

Menuai village had poor tastes.

They followed the buzzes of the streetlights just flaring up into the main square. Even if it was becoming dusk, the packed-dirt roads still contained family and friends intermingling. Nothing extravagant jumps out at first glance, but that wasn’t to say the village wasn’t developed. Their services allowed for fortune akin to modern cities, with hardly any signs of stagnation. Luxuries like electricity, water, even clothing, music, entertainment were a given. The long-standing history between Menuai village and the government of Alkai has been complicated, too complicated for Mira to remember, but they allowed for such a lifestyle.

One would be hard pressed to find a reason to leave.

“I don’t want to leave…”

“What makes you say that?” Chantou looked back at Mira, whose shoulders were rolled over to an impossible level. “No choice but to branch out from here to find a boyfriend?”

“No it’s not that.”

“Well that’s the one thing that makes me want to leave. The boys here just don’t cut it.” Incidentally, there didn’t seem to be any sarcasm in those words.

“Hey, I’m really struggling here.” Mira elbowed Chantou’s ribs, a payback for the two times she did earlier. “I really think they’re gonna kick me out soon.”

Chantou nodded as if already knowing her friend’s predicament. “Yeah, doesn’t seem like a boyfriend can help in this scenario. It’s about your performance, huh?”

“Think Teijian already knows?”

If he caught wind of Mira’s underperformance, she would fear far more than the end of her career. The overseer of the assassin division, Teijian. He was the reason this village could afford to live lavishly. Whatever string he pulled with the Alkain government was anyone’s guess.

Chantou paused before answering. “He knows everything. Would be surprised if he didn’t.”

So the division already essentially knew of Mira’s performance, or lack thereof. Then termination was a very real possibility. Teijian already scared her enough. Envisioning a disappointing look on his icy face gave her shivers.

“If only there was more time…” Mira bit her bottom lip. It wasn’t as if the skill of assassination was transferable to other careers. She could hunt instead, but what employer would give her a chance—if she could even find the sparse businesses to begin with?

“—Oh my, the Reaper!” A woman’s exclaim cut off Mira’s rummaging thoughts, cupping her cheeks passing by.

“How many souls did you take this time?” Another man shot Chantou a thumbs up a few steps later.

“You smell like blood.” A boy held his nose.

Chantou waved them off without a single response.

“Listen, Mira. I think being kicked out should be the least of your worries.”

“Huh?”

“The past, no matter what, will always be behind us. Something in the far future will eventually happen and that’s that. No sense in dwelling on the past.”

A reassuring pat on Mira’s shoulder hardly made her feel at ease.

“Whatever happens, happens. You just gotta make do with what life throws at you. If they kick you out, so be it. When you rack up a ton of wealth and live in a mansion, watch who will be the ones crawling back to you.”

“Easy for you to say…”

Mira sighed as she watched the hustle and bustle warp into an endless blurry motion of color. The establishments’ choice of music certainly didn’t fit the mood. If she’d lose her job, then she’d join that same endless motion. Living an ordinary life amongst her community. Was that really so bad?

“...Um, Chantou? How can I—” Mira looked to her right. She wasn’t there. Looking around showed no signs of her friend. She was gone.

Mira weaved through the crowd of people in the middle of enjoying the prime time of the day. They still had to report back to headquarters and since this was a joint mission, they both had to be present. Could Chantou have gone ahead? Knowing how diligent she was, Mira wouldn’t be surprised, but her gut feeling told her this wasn’t the case. Cutting between lines for restaurants and bars, no one ever batted her an eye.

After gaining notoriety for excellent scores in exams and field training, and finishing every mission with ease, everyone in the division began calling Chantou the Reaper. She thought nothing of it as she continued her work which only contributed to her reputation. The humbleness, unfortunately, only ever pained the two, not only knowing Chantou was doing it for the sake of her friend, but the fact that there was someone else more deserving of the title.

A line of trees welcomed Mira after passing through the last remaining shops and homes.

After stepping over the loose yet thick ivy, she made her way to the spot in the woods that started it all.

Mira found her. Her back towards her facing a tree with marked engravings of a certain gemstone. This wasn’t the first time the two came here. The first time, however, was out of their volition.

“Chantou.”

“Well... Here we go.” Chantou uttered, but because of the distance away, Mira did not hear her. She cleared her throat, prepared to speak.

“Why are you here?”

“You said you were struggling with your job performance? Then I guess you can say I’m struggling with keeping it together.”

The statement caught Mira off guard. That was the first time Chantou had ever divulged something like a vulnerability. Keeping it together? Combat was all they knew. Any sense of morality or sympathy had slowly been stripped away over the years of assassinations. Had their friend’s death affected her to this day?

It was a “failed” job, they had said. A solo mission that proved to be beyond her abilities to complete, something the two found hard to believe. There was no mission that she couldn’t do, so to hear that their friend had been caught and executed by a foreign nation was spitting in their faces. But time did pass and the days grew longer without ever seeing her. In the end, the two couldn’t do a single thing to bring her back.

“She said it herself. It was Emerald’s own choice to go.” Mira thought Chantou would’ve been over her passing by now, why the sudden visit?

“Goddammit. We really have no choice in the matter.”

The wind howled, causing goosebumps to appear on Mira’s arms. Despite the cold, the sun had hid behind the tree line that allowed warm streaks of orange through. But this was merely transient.

“I hate being called the Reaper. How the hell did that name even come up? Whose idea was that? How did it go around so easily?” The once calm and collected friend spewed thoughts that clashed against the view Mira had formed of her. “She had a better right to the name, ‘Reaper’. If only there was just more time.”

Those exact words spoken by both of them seemed meaningless now that Mira heard it from Chantou.

“But it’s just like you said. The past has happened already. She’s gone now.”

A pause. “I did say that didn’t I?”

“I’m sure… she’ll be happy if you are happy. Um…” Mira shifted around, trying to find the empathy that she had lost. “Focus on the now and make it the best we can.”

In that moment after saying those words, Mira could have sworn she saw her friend’s lips curl into a cold smile and whispered something, but it was too faint to hear. Instead, Chantou’s next few words managed to fill the void she never knew existed in her heart.

“Then. I’m gonna get out of here one day. I have to. We have to.”

The sun had sunk below the horizon with the orange hues now becoming a pastel purple. Mira hugged her arms in lieu of the drop in temperature. In the end, these precious times felt far too brief.

“Sorry. Wanted to visit Emerald one more time.” Chantou turned around and walked unfazed, as if the whole conversation hadn’t taken place. “Let’s report back.”

Silence grew between them. To bare her feelings so openly and so suddenly, expecting to speak to each other now would be impossible.

And then, a stomach grumbled.

“...After, do you want some hotpot?” Mira asked.

Chantou chuckled. She knew her best. “Yeah sure.”

・・・・・

Being sore in the morning was one of Mira’s least favorite aspects after a day of exercise. It was unfortunate that her days were full of exercise. That was why she groaned crawling out of the charpai bed, its netted structure creaking as she did.

“Bleh.”

With those two blunders last night, she wouldn’t be surprised if that was her final mission. If one were to fail to live up to the assassination standards, whatever they may be, their permission to take up missions would be revoked, and the bridge to the industry would be burned. Losing your livelihood is one thing, but being ostracized and shunned by your community cuts deep into your wellbeing. Mira shuddered envisioning a life completely different from the bloody one she had led up to that point.

Maybe it’s for the best?

Mira shook her head in an attempt to get these thoughts out. No point in rummaging now. She’d get an order to speak to her superior about her performance any minute now.

Walking out of her room was the same as every other day in the week. Completely empty. As for siblings, there were none. Parents on the other hand, the division sent Mira a slip of paper stating they were MIA after a failure to return from a mission and never again elaborated further. Her parents never had wanted their daughter to take up the village’s assassin division. But after years of constant pestering of wanting to follow in their footsteps and how honorable, sustaining, and fulfilling the work was (where did she learn these concepts anyways?), they eventually caved and signed her up.

And now I have to figure out if I can keep it.

But instead of figuring out herself, the news came to her.

A note with a dagger stuck through the wood of the table. One of the ways a job was to be communicated to the recipient. Maybe there was one more chance? She unstuck the dagger and picked up the note, not minding the dent the dagger left behind. Their housing, their property. Written in cipher only assassins that had undergone education in the division could read, Mira could barely piece together the zigzag characters.

“The target is… unnamed?”

Odd. She reread the line again to make sure she didn’t screw up a word somewhere. They’d always specify some target in the request with every prior briefing. But no, it was best a hollow description of their daily routine that didn’t amount to much. Well, it was only the first sentence after all.

But the same couldn’t be said for the second. Nor the third. With every character she progressed, Mira could feel the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach grow heavier and heavier, until it dropped completely.

"Location: Menuai village."