Obviously, the song "Jar of Hearts" is not mine and is by Christina Perri :-) Also, this deviates slightly from canon.
Written for NeonClan Monthly Writing Contest: New Beginnings
C/P Challenges by the Dozens: Level Four [write four fics based off of your favorite songs] #4
Irina Jelavitch was an assassin. She was a capturer of hearts, and she collected a jar of them as she murdered more and more of the ones she spoke sweetly too.
At first she couldn't stand seducing a person into being her ghost, only to stab them in the back. But the organization that destroyed her village would get rid of her if she didn't fill out jobs for them, so along she went.
And eventually she didn't even feel it anymore. A sexy purr in her voice and a revealing wardrobe were now merely tools for the spider to pull in a fly. Declarations of love were a weapon in her arsenal. Romantic dates in fancy restaurants were settings for a kill.
Eventually, Irina forgot how to truly love. She could only remember how to tear it apart.
It was raining after the investigators finally left. Irina hadn't brought an umbrella, so the free-falling raindrops splashed into her face, each one a tiny dagger in her skin that she refused to feel.
This one had been a struggler. He had tried to resist her pinning him down, but she eventually overcame him and stabbed him. Then, just like always, she cried like a pathetic little girl until somebody—most likely the restaurant manager— called the police, who investigated and interrogated for a few hours.
Irina pushed the memory of his terrified face back into the depths of her mind. No need for it.
She had already forgotten his full name.
It wasn't even very cold, and yet Irina found herself involuntarily shivering. Maybe, instead, it was from the ice inside of her hardened soul.
Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there was a sweet and innocent girl named Irina Jelavitch. Her heart was full of love. But now that fairytale was shattered. That little girl was gone.
In Irina's new world, there was no need for memories, nostalgia, nor sentimental feelings. One left all such feelings behind when one becomes an assassin. it was almost like she wasn't even fully alive.
She reached the end of the block, and turned to her right. Her apartment was getting close, but she didn't run towards it to dodge the raindrops. The assassin she had constructed and hid inside of didn't have a fear of the rain.
Who was she? If Irina was asked that question by one of the people she worked for, she would easily reply with something along the lines of "An assassin skilled in the arts of seduction and the manipulation of love." And if Irina was asked that question by investigators, she would easily reply with something along the lines of "A helpless young lady who is lost and afraid." And if Irina was asked that question by herself... She wouldn't know. Irina Jelavitch was a sculpture; a masterpiece of human art. She was living inside a shell; curled up inside of her body. Every single slight movement and every single word she rolled off her tongue were prepared and carefully thought over before being let out and presented to the world.
Had the organization made her into this monster? Maybe, but she would have tossed away her heart eventually anyway after her village was destroyed, even if they hadn't come to her to get her to be an assassin. It would have been the only way to survive. "It was inevitable," she used to tell herself back when she has first started killing.
Irina made it to the front door of her apartment, opened it, stepped inside, and started to close it softly. But she remembered who she was and slammed it closed.
The cellphone ringing was an intruder, and Irina approached it with caution after being startled awake by the ring. Who would even be calling her at this ungodly hour?
With a small annoyed sigh, she picked up and answered the phone. "Hello, who is this?" she said, adding a sexy tone to her voice.
But she was startled when the voice that responded didn't seem to be affected, and was very formal in general. "Miss Jelavitch, I am Karasuma from the Ministry of Defense of Japan. We would like to strike a deal with you. You'll have to accept, though, since we have positioned our men around your apartment, and they are prepared to eliminate another assassin if you resist."
Quietly, Irina swore colorfully under her breath. How had she not noticed and taken out the men before then? They had the assassin cornered.
"Tell me more," she said, rolling her r's in another attempt to tip the receiver off of his guard.
Yet once again, Karasuma was unaffected and ignored the tone. If he had even noticed it. "We will have to discuss more details in person, because there is a very high possibility of this line being bugged, and we wouldn't want a national secret spilling out. All I can tell you is that you'll have to teach." There was a pause at the end of the line, and the sound of some papers being shuffled around.
A teacher. Hm. Well, even though kids were brats, she didn't mind painting herself into another form. "Meet me in the park center at noon tomorrow, where we will transfer to a new location soon after. Don't even think about bringing weapons."
"What's in it for me?" It was a risky line to say, especially because of the Ministry of Defense men outside. But it was worth a shot to see if she could glean anything from this task.
"Ten billion yen, and another heart to stab through."
With ten billion yen, she could start a whole new beginning for herself. She could wipe her slate with that much money, even if it meant adding one last heart to her ever-growing jar before she twisted it shut.
"Count me in."
