An assassin is only as good as his kill. To be a true mercenary you have to be willing to do whatever the gil asks, even if the target is your own father.

I

"You shouldn't do this." Squall begged before he handed his wife the assignment. "God knows why they chose you."

Rinoa looked at him with angry eyes that warned him of the bad ground that he was venturing upon. "How do you mean?"

"You've only been a SeeD for a month…" He hesitated.

"…and…" she pressed.

Squall looked at he manila envelope in his hands. It called for three specific SeeDs. Long time gunner, Irvine, master martial artist, Zell and the sorceress-SeeD, Rinoa. The assignment was in Deling, the target Caraway.

"You just shouldn't go."

Rinoa scoffed. "It's not really your choice now is it?"

"No." He said and handed her the envelope. He knew well that the subject of her and her father was more than touchy. "It isn't."

I

They reached Deling late the next night. The darkness was blinding and huge black raindrops fell onto their faces.

Rinoa cloaked them in a spell of invisibility while Zell climbed up into the mansion going through the window. Irvine stood atop the Arch of Triumph waiting as a B plan in case Zell should fail and Caraway escape.

Zell made it inside all he had to do was slit Caraway's throat.

Rinoa felt nothing.

I

"Why are you going?" Zell had asked on the train ride to Deling.

Rinoa said nothing deciding to look out of the window instead. The scenery passed by in whorls of greens and browns, the sun falling into the east making the sky glow a bright tangerine.

Zell waited for an answer still.

Irvine shook his head and cleaned his guns.

I

'One hundred years ago,' she thought, a small child playing with her dolls. 'There was a knight who loved an angel.'

Her parents were fighting again downstairs. Loud noises echoed through the vents. Angry words shook the floors. None of this affected little Rinoa who wandered into her own private world.

'The angel was dying 'cuz nobody else loved her.'

"Fuck you Fury! How dare you even insinuate…"

'But, the knight said that his love was strong enough to save her.'

"Insinuate what? That you're a lying whore of a wife!"

'So he took her to see the stars.'

"What?"

'Her eyes began to open and her heart started to beat.'

"I know about him! I know about that fucking boy that you've been screwing around with!"

'The stars had filled her with life.'

The front door slammed and the sound of a car roared away. Her mother would never be seen again.

I

There was screaming coming from inside the mansion. The spell had worn off for Zell and his image darted back and forth from behind the window. Caraway had ran past the blond fighter and leaped out of the window crashing the glass into smithereens and landed rolling onto the lawn.

"Fuck." Rinoa gasped as she picked up the transmitter to page Irvine. "Plan B! Get that rival set!"

"Ditto." Irvine responded, his voice blurry and static.

Caraway ran down the driveway and past the corpses of his guards. He wasn't screaming anymore, his military instinct kicking into survival mode.

Rinoa chased after him.

I

"So who's issuing the hit?" Rinoa asked as she looked at the envelopes contents. She began chewing her bottom lip wishing that her mind would settle at least a little. In a way she was more upset that she didn't care as much as she did.

Squall shrugged. "Someone who feels threatened enough to remain anonymous."

Rinoa shook her head and felt the blood from her face drain. Then she smirked.

"What?" Squall asked, placing his left hand under her chin, gently forcing her to look at him.

She smiled, "I'm surprised that it wasn't me."

I

To be an assassin, one mustn't think about who this target is. Who they were, what they had done and who's reliant upon them. None of these things must matter to you. There is a piece of our humanity that must be sold along with our skills.

I

She chased him through the rain having chosen to shed her cloak of invisibility as so to become available to Irvine's eagle eyes.

The rain was fat and heavy. It soaked through her jacket making it heavy. Quickly she removed her coat hearing it slap vaguely upon the road. Her skin had become colder but her speed had been increased.

Thank God for small miracles.

I

"Why did you leave your father?" Zone had asked when she was only fifteen. She was in Timber now and sat before a sublime fire that they had built in the middle of an alley, her legs scrunched to her chest. Watts lied besides her sleeping not minding the piss stained concrete.

"What does it matter?" She groaned as she touched a fading bruise that rested upon her eye.

Zone looked at her intently. "Because I care."

Rinoa looked into the fire. The flames rolled and licked about consuming the sparse wood that fueled it.

"He doesn't care."

"Why not?"

A tear rolled down her face. "Because, I'm only his daughter."

I

"I can't catch him!" Irvine hollered over the transmitter. Apparently the weather and Caraway's zigzagging was affecting his aim.

'Okay,' she thought. 'Time for Plan C.'

She took the gun out of its holster and pointed it at her father who began to fade into the distance. She pulled the trigger and heard him scream.

I

When her mother died she cried just like any other child would. Her father held her and made the tears fade away.

When it was her birthday she wanted a big party to invite all of her classmates to, just like every ten year-old dreams. He seemed to have forgotten and she spent the day alone.

When she had threatened to leave, like every rebellious teenager does, he hit her so hard that she flew into the wall behind her. He didn't apologize nor did he try to help her comfort the bruise that began to spread across her eye.

When she was getting married, like many young women decide to do, she wondered about sending him an invitation. She didn't and he found out about the wedding through rumors though all he did was shrug.

They had sacrificed their relationship for bitterness. Neither seemed to care.

I

The bullet had hit the back of his knee. He lay upon the ground blood seeped out of his leg but was washed away by the rain.

Rinoa walked up to him, her gun in her right hand. She stood above him, an all-powerful god.

He looked at her, his eyes pitiful and begging. It seemed as though he might have been crying, but Rinoa couldn't quite tell.

"Rinoa!" Irvine screamed from the transmitter. "Don't do it! You did you job by immobilizing him! Don't!"

She took the black box from her hip and threw it into the park.

Neither spoke, the rain was enough racket between them.

She pointed the gun at his head and Caraway's face stretched into a mask of pure terror. He bawled.

From the corner of her eye she saw Zell coming her way and she knew that if she didn't act fast either Irvine would take the kill or Zell would. This wasn't their problem, she thought.

Once again she pulled the trigger and in a loud explosion he was gone. His eyes were blank and blood drained from out of the bullet hole and both of his ears to create a crimson halo.

Zell had reached her and looked upon the gore before him. Rinoa looked hollow and numb. She stared but did not seem to register the situation. Zell draped an arm over her shoulders that did not give nor did she turn to him as if she had needed the comfort.

She was beyond comfort now. She was in her own world where there was a lovesick knight and a dying angel.

I

When I was small I liked to sit on my father's lap. He would hold me with one arm while he held his book with the other. Every so often he would gently brush my hair as he moved to turn the page. It was comforting especially when I would bury my face into his chest, inhaling the scent of the expensive tobacco that he loved to smoke.

Often he would put down his book and just rock in the chair. I loved the feeling of my body swaying as he cradled me.

Always, just before I would fall to sleep he would whisper into my ear, "You're Daddy's little girl, huh?"

"Yes." I would say in eager agreement. "I'm always gonna be Daddy's girl."

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To explain myself:

This was really just a story to write. A writer called Invocations who writes these incredibly short but nonetheless powerful stories that inspired me. Also the great Last Harlequin's story 'Blissful End' which is a very sad and incredibly powerful short that just seems to somehow capture agony without seeming cheap. Also, Dead Pollen's 'Run Away Princess' which is awesome in a way that you'll have to read to understand. So, if you read this and you're somewhat amused by it then you'll fall in love with these people. Their stories are the shit!

So, check out Last Harlequin and Invocations and Dead Pollen 'cuz they rock! Oh! And review their stories like mad!

Oh, and I'm sorry if this was hard to understand or just plain sucked in general. It was fun to write and go some pre-existing issues dealt with for a while.

Thanks for your time.