The Innocent Side of Innocence and Anger

I can't remember a time that Desya and I weren't together. Well of course there were some times when we fought and didn't talk, or when Father would forcefully separate us… but we were always together when we needed it. Desya and I were the only close ones in my family.

Mother and Father fought a lot, not with each other (they were the picture perfect couple) but with Desya and me. It was the nurses idea to keep Desya and I together when we were babies, then they couldn't pry us apart.

Mother and Father wanted us separated. I was going to be their little key to royalty. I was born three days after the crowned prince. Desya would uphold the family's honour and take after our Father's trade. Of course, that never happened. Although it might have for Desya, if I wasn't here, alive that is.

Desya and I would talk every night after our classes. Comparing the lessons on manners, and child care, and cooking, and cleaning; to the lessons on self defence, reading, writing, and everything else a 'good young man' was supposed to know. As well as anything a 'good assassin' would need to know.

Desya and I were four when we started these lessons. Desya was the one who taught me how to read and write.

Desya and I were joined at the hip, together all the time. I was a rebellious child; I hated dresses, and was disgusted by my Father, who kept me on as short a leash as possible, literally sometimes. Whenever I could sneak out, I would; and I would always take Desya with me. Father never hit me, although he threatened to.

But Father hit Desya a lot.

And even though it was my fault, I couldn't do anything about it. It hurt me so much as I sat there and screamed at my Father to leave Desya alone, to stop hurting him. One night, Father beat Desya so badly that he had to go to the hospital.

That was the first time that Father managed to separate us.

Father told me,

"Innya, why do you have to misbehave like this? You claim to love your brother, but you only hurt him. If you go with your Mother, to the other mansion, Desya won't have to be hurt anymore."

And I believed him. I was almost five years old, and all the other girls my age, in my classes, talked about how great their 'Papas' were, about how they never told a lie, and how they would always give them nice things. I looked up at my Father, and using the biggest (most commanding) voice a four year old could muster, I replied.

"I'll think about it."

Later that night, my Mother came to me.

"Innya, my dear."

"Yes Mother?" I asked.

"Innya, come and live at the second mansion, with me. Don't you like me? Don't you want your Father and I and Desya to be happy? Where nobody gets hurt?" She looked at me with a sad smile.

"Mother?" I asked, looking up at her near tears, "Why does Desya get hurt when it's me who does the bad stuff and sneaks off?"

"Because, Innya dear." Her kind smile turned scary, "You can't have a scar on your body when we sell you off to the prince."

That was when I saw my Mother in the real light. To me, my Mother was the nice parent, who I could go and cry to when my Father scared me. It was clear in that one moment; my Mother was certainly not who I thought she was. I told my Father that night that I would move in with Mother, and that I would behave myself. I knew that if I stayed there, Desya would just get hurt again. So I had to leave.

I didn't see Desya for a while after that. That month, on May fourth, my Auntie killed herself.

My Auntie Rose was a very nice lady. She always snuck me sweets, even though Mother complained that it was bad for my complexion. Every year, on the forth of May (Mother always said that it was a good sign that I was born in May, it's the month of Mothers); my Auntie would give me a present for my birthday. I hid them all away in a box under my bed. It started out with dried lilies from her garden (they were really pretty), and then a rose with the thorns on it, and for my fourth birthday I got just the thorns. Auntie Rose was a symbolic person, so I knew it wasn't something too bad, it was probably some way to ward off dangers. That year, for my birthday, my Auntie gave me my first gun. After the body was discovered and I was rushed off to the cellar (as not to scar my innocent mind) the gardener found me. In his hand was a note, and a large shoe box. He shoved it into my arms, and then scampered off.

Dear my little Innya,

This note is the last thing I will say before I finally pass on from this hell. I refuse to allow you to go through the same suffering I did. I was so much like you when I was a child, always running around in pants, and defying my parents. When I was fifteen, the legal age of marriage at that time, I was married off into a noble family. From there your cousins sprung. But that was never what I wanted, and I know it isn't what you want either… So I give you this.

This is the gun that I will use to kill myself, as well as its twin. I hope that you can use it well to protect you and your brother. No matter what… Never allow your Father to take your freedom from you. Ever.

Go see the blacksmith in town, he or his son can teach you to shoot.

Take care of yourself, my little Innya.

Love you always,

Auntie Rosie

I made sure that nobody was around, then stared in at the two shining guns, although there was some blood on one, they were perfect. The last gift my Auntie would ever give me. She would protect me.

I was five years old, and still small enough to sneak off the grounds, and from age five until six I was being trained by the blacksmith's son out in the forest after dark. He told me I was 'a natural' then gave me a box.

"In here are some chemicals. There are also recipes for different kinds of bullets." He said with a smile, "Happy birthday, Innya."

"Wow!" I exclaimed happily, "So I'm seven today, huh. Wow…"

"You are, are you going to go and move back in with your brother now that you're all grown up?" the older boy said with a chuckle. My head filled with determination, I nodded, and scurried off home. Tomorrow I would be talking with my Father.

"I will not allow this!" my Father bellowed, but I walked past him, hugging my shoebox of treasures to my chest. Now I had the flowers, the guns, a few bullets, and the ingredients tucked away.

"Desya!" I giggled as I ran up to my brother, and hugged him, and he hugged back. Although there were no bruises, I could see he was really tired.

"Innya! Why did you leave me!?" Desya said, practically in tears as he squeezed me close to him, "Don't ever leave me ever again, okay?"

"Never!" I smiled, and I didn't.

I was seven years old when I cut my hair.

It was snowing outside, and Desya was studying for his lessons with Father. Out of nowhere I pulled a butcher's knife off the counter and sliced clean through the long locks, leaving a butchered path in its wake. After Father left I walked shyly into the room.

"Innya! What happened to your hair?!" Desya gasped as he stared at me in utter horror.

"You're my twin, so I want to look like you." I said, looking off to the side, seeing how foolish it was, "But it's not proper for boys to have long hair so..."

"But girls shouldn't have short hair!" Desya laughed. I sighed, maybe if I look like a boy instead of a girl, then Father wouldn't want to marry me off, "Okay, how about this: We'll grow our hair to the lower back."

"But that's too long for a boy!" I objected, afraid of what Father would do to him.

"We've already swapped roles, I'd make a better wi- husband," Desya corrected himself, "And you'd make a better assassin than me." Desya shrugged as he wandered off to find something. He came back with a pair of scissors. "Who cares about me when I won't be accepted anyways? Now sit down and let me fix this sad excuse of a haircut."

"Hey! I did that myself!" I objected, embarrassed by the insult.

"I can tell." Desya grinned over my shoulder.

"HEY!" I whined.

The next year, when I was eight, I saw something I could never forget. One night Desya and I had snuck out of the mansion in order to see an old fortune telling woman in our town. Of course, she was just a scam, nothing special. That was one of the few times that Desya and I were caught by Father's guards. Both Desya and I were terrified. The last time we had been caught Father nearly killed Desya. The two guards grabbed us and threw us over their shoulders, carrying us home. I always wondered why nobody stopped to help us. We'd struggle and scream but everybody just looked the other way.

"People are selfish, they only care about themselves. But you're my other half Innya! I'll always care about you! And I'll always protect you!" Desya said that to me after one of his beatings, when I asked him why nobody helped us.

That night Father didn't even lay a hand on Desya. He was in a very good mood, actually. It actually reminded me of when he got off a satisfying job. But I just brought him his tea, and dealt with his lecture on my role in life. Actually, now that I think of it, the lecture was more severe than usual. Like he wanted me to know for sure that I was in my place. That night when I went out to the outer garden to water the roses I saw a girl with long silver hair. She was around ten years old and she was covered in wounds, her beautiful hair stained crimson in spots from her wounds. She looked like she was dead, dumped for the next passerby to find her. I went to scream, but before I could I could smell my Father's cologne, and then a cloth was pressed over my mouth and I passed out.

For the next few years, we just continued along with that routine, avoiding angering Father beyond growing Desya's hair out did, practicing with the gun when nobody was looking, and sneaking out to see the town without the 'guiding gaze' of Father. That was when I first found out about the really evil adults, the ones that hurt girls, and killed people.

But the worst adults were really the ones that Father invited over. They got really drunk, and they'd come in and to really weird things to me. Usually it was just a kiss or a grope, but one time somebody tried to go beyond that. I was eight years old. I never screamed before, Father threatened to disown Desya if I did, but there was nobody in the house but Desya and I. Mother and Father had gone down to the other mansion and for some reason one of the men had stayed behind. The second he tried to take the dress that fell loosely over my small form I screamed as loud as I could. That was the rule, clothes on. I could smell cigars and wine on his breath and I kicked and scratched and screamed until Desya appeared at the door. I curled up into a ball and a loud shot was heard. I looked up in fear, and noticed that the bullet had only hit the man's shoulder. He stood up, cursed, and then lunged at my twin. The gun was sent flying in my direction, and I picked it up, and shot.

My aim was true, right through the back of the pervert's skull. Blood had spattered all over Desya, and he was shaking as the still twitching man fell to the ground, just short of him. Without thinking, I smashed the window, hung the blanket out, after tying it securely to the bed post. I pulled the dress back on, then grabbed Desya and ran over to the other mansion, after hiding my gun.

"Father!" We shouted in union as we ran into the room, both of us covered in blood.

"Father! Some man came through the window! There was a loud BANG! Then your friend fell over! I think he's sleeping… but he won't wake up! And he's bleeding really bad!" I said, keeping the panic out of my voice. I need to make it seem like I didn't understand.

"Where is he?" Father asked, standing up as Desya and I shuffled over to our Mother.

"He's in my room… he said he wanted to show me a magic trick…" I whimpered slightly, "Why won't he wake up Mother?"

"Shhhh… don't worry; he's just taking a nap. Let's go get you two cleaned up." Mother soothed, as she apologised to her guests and rushed Desya and I into the nearest bathrooms, tossing two of our Father's oversized shirts in after us. "Wash and get changed into these, you can use the guest rooms." She hissed, clearly annoyed by the disturbance. We did as we were told. That was the first time I ever saw a man die.

I was nine years old when I finally freed Desya and me from Mother and Father.

"Innya." My Father said. I walked over, when he just said our names, which was his way of saying 'you're in a shitload of trouble' or 'get your asses over here'.

"Yes Father?" I asked, formally.

"You understand what a wife's job is, right?" He asked. He was unusually pleased that day, and I had no idea why.

"It is a wife's job to please her husband, and to have sons so that the husband's line can continue on. If they are lucky, and have a good, rich husband, they only act as a possession, something for the husband to show off; there are maids to take care of the children and work. But in a less fortunate situation she is to cook, clean, and take care of the children." I recited.

"I'm pleased that you understand. Today you will be going off to live with your fiancée." My Father smiled, as if he was giving me a gift.

"What's a fiancée?" I asked, looking innocently up to my Father.

"It's who you're going to marry as soon as you can have babies." My Mother smiled from the open doorway. I frowned.

"I don't wanna get married." I shook my head 'no', "aren't I too little anyways?"

"No, soon enough you will be ten, which is the legal age for marriage now, although because it is the prince, some rules will be bent." Father said, using an authoritative voice. I shook my head again and backed away from my Father.

"Is Desya coming too?" I asked, not wanting to leave my other half behind.

"No, Desya will continue to live here, studying under your father." My Mother used a mock-motherly voice. "You won't be his sister anymore, Innya. You will belong to the prince."

"You will bring us a lot of money, little brat." My Father hissed, "And you will behave yourself. Or I'll kill off that damned nuisance of a son off myself."

"No." I said as I turned around and ran towards my room.

I found Desya in the hallway, and I dragged him along behind me. I threw him onto my bed, and then pulled out my two, shiny silver-white guns from under my pillow. My Father appeared in the doorway, holding a small pistol.

"Damned bitch. I'll kill your precious brother here and now if you don't do as you're told." Father hissed. I once again shook my head no, and then raised both guns, aimed at my Father.

"Innya! Put those away!" My Mother yelled, appearing behind my Father with the same butcher's knife I had used to cut my hair two years earlier.

"NO!" I screamed, as I pulled the trigger. I gave my Mother a 'third eye' shooting through the centre of my Mother's forehead. Blood splattered all over the wall of the hallway and a pool of the crimson liquid pooled at the head of My Mother, who lay on the ground dead. My Father glared at me, and raised his gun. I could see that it was aimed just over my shoulder. I realised it was aimed at Desya. "NO!" I shouted out again, as I shot it out of his hand. My hands began to shake, as I realised I killed my Mother. I mean, sure she was really mean, and she was going to hurt Desya, but she was my Mother!

My Father took advantage of my panic and lunged at me, knocking me into a wall, then grabbing Desya by his hair, holding the sharp cleaver to Desya's throat.

"You WILL do as you're told." My eyes stared off into space, as numbness overcame me.

"Yes sir…" I muttered. My brain had gone dead. My Father grabbed me by the cuff of my dress, and dragged me across the floor, not even bothering to pick up the guns that slid out of my hands. I heard more than saw the gun release as I fell to the floor, and my Father collapsed, a hole in the back of his leg.

"Innya! Get over here! I can't shoot with these things!" Desya yelled, as my Father turned towards my brother, his eyes overcome with rage. I don't remember running past my Father, or taking the guns from Desya. All I remember is walking up to my Father, putting my gun up to his forehead, and then blowing his twisted brains out.

The close contact caused blood to go everywhere, and the back of my Father's head split open as the exploding bullet that the blacksmith's son gave me for my seventh birthday did its job.

After that my memory fades in and out a lot. Desya and I running to the stables after taking all the food and money my Mother's prized stallions could carry, then loading it up onto the horses. Then galloping through the dark town, escaping down a merchant's road that led to nowhere.

And then a couple walking down that road. The woman was very thin, almost too thin, with wavy blond hair and deep, miserable blue eyes; her husband was tall, well built, and had deep green eyes with rings under them, tufts of his brown hair stuck out from under a hood. The woman started screaming and wailing after we rode by.

"It's a message from the God's! Aysu is going to die! My little princess!" the wails echoed softly off the trees that surrounded the road, but we had no time to stop to explain that we had nothing to do with their 'Aysu', but what could we say, anyways? We couldn't tell them that we just killed off our parents, they'd probably turn us in and we'd be separated. I might even be given off to a nunnery, and Desya killed for the crime.

After that Desya and I drifted. I gained a reputation as one of the best assassins around, and I got many jobs. I had good aim, I worked cheap, and nobody couldn't not trust my face. I was labelled the 'Innocent Assassin'. Between Desya, who took up work carving little statues and toys, and myself, who got the occasional job (But not that many, nobody believed that I would kill somebody), we made enough to get by, although we had to sell the horses when we ran out of food. We survived like that for just over a year. Desya cut his hair short so people would buy from him. I cut my hair short as well. Although my excuse was something about inconvenience we both knew it was just me liking looking like my twin.

I was one of the few female assassins, and one of the only children assassins.

Most people didn't believe me when they first came to me for jobs, but their friends assured them, I was the girl for the job.

A lot of my customers just thought I looked too innocent. One of them asked why.

"Because… my parents hurt me and my brother real bad, so the more times I get to kill them, the better." I smiled. My reference, a middle age man with golden blond hair, explained.

"This here girl killed off her mummeh and daddeh, who had been abusing her and her brother, and intended to sell her off into slavery or somethin'… she just pictures all of her victims as 'er Mummy n' Daddy. I swear, this little 'un is the only person alive that can kill for a livin' and have a heart purer 'an a saint's." I smiled up at the drunkard, then to his companion.

"I've got a really good shot!" I smiled, "I never miss my Mother's or Father's 'third eye'! Never have! And I work really cheap! Just enough for food for my brother and I." That always left a few extra coins in my jar, and I never did miss.

Soon I was infamous in the underworld, and Desya and I had enough to live comfortably, although I switched over to the black pants and shirt set that was torn in multiple places, and always smelled of blood, for any job I went on.

I was ten when I met Aysu.

I was on a particularly personal job. I was hired to kill off one of my father's friends, but I couldn't be seen by anybody and it had to look like an accident, so that meant I couldn't just guilt myself into the house like I usually did, and then just kill off everybody. I already knew exactly what I would do. If everything was in the same spots as before when I had visited with Mother and Father, then I could sneak into the air duct, and then go into the office while the guy was out. I'd loosen the screws on the big moose head that hung over his desk, and then when he sat down at his desk to read I'd shoot at a string that I would use to hold the moose head up. There would be a silencer on my gun, and I'd grab the thread and get back into the duct before anybody could even come and check. Of course, I'd lock the door to buy extra time.

Everything was set up, and all I needed was my victim. As expected he sat at the desk and started filling out whatever forms adults wasted time filling out. I shot, and the bullet went through the thread, dropping the moose onto the man and shattering his spine as the oversized beast head crushed him, and then into the air duct behind the moose head. I jumped out of the air duct I had been hiding in, and then locked the door, making sure I had gloves on, and checked for a pulse. When I was sure the man, whose face had warped to the appearance of my Father's, was dead, I gathered my equipment, and after the man was posed properly so it was an obvious accident (with the moose's antler going through his forehead, which was ironic because it was straight through the third eye without me even trying), and then climbed into the duct. I got outside of the house and sighed in annoyance as I noticed the sticky liquid all over me.

"I thought that I'd be able to go without blood this time…" I sighed, "I told Desya I'd come home cleaner from this one too."

"Innya!" Desya hissed from nearby bushes. "You said you wouldn't get so bloody this time!"

"Well I didn't mean to…" I muttered. Then I broke out in a smile, and bolted. It was all in good fun, I could easily outrun Desya, and he didn't fit any reports of an assassin, so he was usually just thought of as a scraggily poor kid when he got caught. He ran after me, but I soon had a very large break between us.

I was surprised when I came to an unfamiliar clearing, and saw a very angry looking girl walking around.

I tripped over the bush I was climbing over as I tried to freeze mid-air, and then we blinked at each other for a few seconds. I looked her over, inspecting her.

"Who are you?" She finally asked me. I paused, not really sure if I should answer her.

"Innya's my name. What about you?" I asked, curious who this weird girl was.

"Aysu." She answered, "What's with the blood? Did you kill somebody?" she asked, smirking at me. I looked down at my shirt then frowned up at her.

"That's right. I killed my parents. What are you going to do about it?" I challenged. I was still in this odd zone I get into where my vision goes kind of red, and I just want to kill somebody. It was usually this way after a mission, but recently, it hadn't been going away.

"I don't really care that you killed your parents, actually." Aysu replied with a shrug. Then she paused for a moment, "Say.... You wouldn't happen to be interested in killing for a living, would you?" I stared, my eyes wide for a second as I thought over the offer. "You see, I need a partner in order to be qualified for the job, but I'm not gonna settle on just anyone. I need a powerful fighter. Think you can handle it?"Sure I had done a few odd jobs killing people, but as an actual job where I can do it all the time? Part of me wanted to say no, but the other part, the part that made me see red and wanted me to kill people was stronger. I gave her a big smile.

"Sounds like fun!" Aysu smirked at me, and before I could say anything else Desya came up from behind me.

"Innya! Wait up! Don't leave me behind!" Desya called over to me as he jogged up to me and my new friend.

"Desya!" I grinned, "Sure took you long enough!" Aysu blinked at Desya.

"Who's this?" she asked coldly.

"Oh! This is my brother, Desya." I smiled, "Desya, this is my new friend, Aysu! We're gunna be partners and kill people for a living!" I smiled even brighter at the last bit.

"Haha." Desya said, as he patted my shoulder, "Sounds like a job that suits you!" Desya chuckled, "Aysu, huh? Nice to meet you." Desya held out his hand for a shake, but Aysu ignored him.

"A brother, huh?" Aysu muttered, "Could be a problem…" She looked over to me, "Are you sure he won't… Get in the way?"

"Don't worry about Desya, he'll be fine! Now tell me more about this job that involves killing people!" I grinned. Aysu nodded, but was clearly still uneasy. She shrugged and then began to explain…