Memoirs of a Melancholy Assassin Chapter 1: Young Sephiria Arks, a black cat fanfic

Memoirs of a Melancholy Assassin: The Life of Sephiria Arks

Summary: Let's face it: in Black Cat, everyone's past is a mystery. But none is as interesting as Captain Sephiria Arks's story.

Introduction

My name is Sephiria Arks; 27 years old. I am the current captain of the elite assassination squad, the Chronos Numbers. I was born on January 1st, the marking of a new year… and also the marking of a new age of Chronos.

My father was a businessman under the power of the great organization, Chronos, which, back then, only held, at best, one-tenth, of the world's economy. Greedy for power, my father anxiously gave me painful surgery to enhance my regeneration and physical abilities as a newborn child in a successful attempt to turn me into a powerful asset for the powerful organization.

In other words, I was raised for Chronos.

Chapter one: Young Sephiria Arks

The small baby in new father Jonothan Arks's arms wailed endlessly. The father sighed. "Isn't there a way to make it shut up?"

The mother, Celine Arks, smiled triumphantly through layers of sweat. "Isn't she a beauty?"

"Hmmph," he grunted. "It would have been better if it was a boy. What's its name?"

Celine struggled to sit up. "She is not an it! …Her name is Sephiria. Sephiria Arks," she said, her voice low.

"No matter, Sephiria," the father whispered to the small baby. "We will raise you to become a great asset to our Chronos."

"Not again with that stupid Chronos talk! It's always 'Chronos this, Chronos that'! Enjoy your own life for today, Jon."

Jonothan looked at his wife, blinked at her outburst, and returned to his fidgeting daughter. "It's okay, hon; we'll raise you to become a member of the Chronos Numbers."

Ten Years Later…

My life was relatively happy. My father was a small business owner, and we could afford luxuries like parties and various rich foods. I had yet to learn of friends and Chronos at the age of ten, for my life was always involved in school and gun training.

"Sephiria!" my father barked. "You don't hold a gun like that!"

I glanced at my grip on the handle. It was firm, and my finger was on the trigger, just as my father had taught me. I saw no mistake, but I knew better than to talk back. My father kneeled down to rearrange my grip on the handle, and accidentally set off the trigger. The bullet came out with a bang and the rebound from the force of the shot numbed my wrist.

My father growled viciously. "What use are you if you can't use a gun?!" he shouted in my ear, then giving my face a good slap. My cheek stung, but I didn't dare raise my hand to cradle it in fear of another slap.

"Jon!" my mother cried, appalled. "How could you do this to our daughter?!" She ran to my side, cooing gently and reassuring me. "Don't worry, Sephiria," Mother always said, "I'll teach you how to use a sword."

She stood up. "This is the last of your marksmanship lessons, Jon," Mother said with vigor. Her blue eyes, so like mine, yet at the same time a dimension apart, gleamed viciously as she drew the saber on her waist, something she had carried throughout her days as a bodyguard, before she married Father.

Intimidated now, for my father was not so good a marksman to avoid the blade Mother wielded, Father put down the gun and sighed. "Fine. No more gunmanship. You can do whatever with that girl."

Oh, how I wished I was strong like Mother.

Mother smiled as she kneeled down to me. She brushed my chin-length blonde hair from my face. "Come, Sephiria. Your new saber came in today; we'll start your swordsmanship now, okay?"

I smiled brightly and nodded, too excited to say anything.

The sword was in its sheath when we came into the room. I ran up to it, eager to handle it. The saber itself was about the length of my legs, while the handle was large and ornamented with imprints of various plants. I picked it up and drew it. The blade glinted silver as Mother approached.

"Do you like it?" she asked, a gentle grin spreading on her face.

"I love it! Thank you, Mother!"

"Then we'll start learning today. Is that okay with you, Sephiria?"

I nodded eagerly.

First, Mother taught me the proper grip on the handle. It was solid and secure under my fingers and the sensation was brilliant. I knew that this was what I wanted to hold for my entire life. And then I recalled my first memory: my father lingering over me, whispering "We will raise you to become a great asset to Chronos."

I figured five years was enough time to ask what Chronos was.

"Mother?" I asked as she was showing me a basic swing.

"Yes?"

"What… What's Chronos?"

Suddenly her face turned hard. Her sapphire irises became similar to the stone's hardness. "Chronos is… Chronos is the reason why your father let me give birth to you," she said, sighing. Her long blonde hair blew out as she sat down in a nearby chair, her elegant dress flowing out in different directions. "He wants you to become an elite assassin for Chronos."

"That's why he was teaching me gunmanship," I said. "Is that why you're teaching me swordsmanship, too?"

Mother's face was shocked for an instant. She regained her composure and smiled. "I guess so; yes."

"But what is it? What does it do?"

Mother sighed again. "Chronos is… Chronos is an organization that exists to unite the world and bring world peace."

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked. I remember Mother's firm argument against my being an assassin.

"I think it is, since you're too young to be involved in something like that. Your father, though, seems to have no problem with it." She was quiet for a minute before she spoke again. "Come, Sephiria. We're going to learn now."

As I sat through my arithmetic lesson, I thought about this new information. An assassin? Me? But… I was a girl. I shook my head. No; Mother was a bodyguard, so I can be an assassin.

If Chronos was what I was born for, then so be it.

The next night, I attended my first Chronos-only party. It was hosted by some of the higher-ranked members and guarded by the Chronos Numbers. I glanced around, trying to look at everything at once. It was much more pompous than the parties I was used to going to.

It was hosted in a large, white, glass-domed ballroom, from which you could clearly see the beautiful half-moon. Tables decorated with ice sculptures and wine fountains were accompanied with tables holding fancy hour d'ourves, cakes, and other luxuries. People were everywhere, talking and chattering. Occasionally, I would see the flash of a black weapon and I knew that it was the people who would someday be my comrades.

Mother turned to me. "Come, Sephiria; we're going to go see a Chronos Number."

I straightened my dress and smiled up at my mother as we walked towards the entrance, where a Number, around thirty or so, awaited us. His face was harsh, like a demon's. He turned to see us.

"You must be Sephiria," he said, a wide grin on his face, making it seem human again.

I nodded, resisting the urge to cling to my mother.

"This is Mason, Sephiria. Three years ago he fought against the Taoists on the Forbidden Continent. Remember our studies about that?"

Mason cackled, a sound similar to what one would imagine a witch would laugh like. "The Tao were no match for Chronos. Remember that, Sephiria, and become strong!"

I kept that evening in mind when I trained: the inhuman-ness of the Chronos Numbers. I realized why the Numbers existed: despite the constant pressing that the Numbers were to exterminate scum, they also existed because those with power would be targeted by other, eviler, people.

I was in the middle of arranging the flowers three years later in our fragrant, outdoor loft when the door burst open. I heard something crash and shatter; a vase, maybe? Then came a scream and a terrible, terrible voice.

"Where are Jonothan and Celine Arks?" the voice, a deep baritone, growled deeply.

For a while, panic was the only thing that could be heard until it quieted for the low clack, clack of a woman's shoes. I drew a breath. It could only be Mother.

My mother began shouting orders to the maids. "Close all the doors and leave immediately! Find Sephiria and take her with you!" I heard the shing of her saber being drawn. "As for you, Zagine… I will deal with you."

"No," I whispered. I would help Mother. I started down the stairs when a firm hand gripped my shoulder. I turned back to see a maid, shaking her head firmly. Her arms wrapped around my waist and I thrashed, not wanting to be taken away from my mother, the lone woman who had made me who I was today. "Mother!" I cried.

I heard a gunshot, the clink of a bullet against silver, then nothing. I blacked out, unaware that the maid had knocked me out to protect me as my mother's last wish.

I woke up in a large courtyard. Flowers and trees lined the ivy-covered gates as small insects buzzed around pompous fountains. I knitted my eyebrows together. This definitely wasn't home.

With the thought of home came several unasked questions. What of Mother? Father? Who was that Zagine person, and why was he after Mother and Father? I pondered these while my hand absently traveled over my sheathed saber. It had yet to see blood, I realized suddenly.

Footsteps brought my attention back to earth. I stood hastily, drawing my sword. "Who are you?"

A man, no more than twenty-three, stepped out into the sunlight from an unseen gate that was covered in ivy, like the rest of the fenced area. His face was marred by several battle scars. A dark blue military/business cross overcoat was draped across his shoulders. His eyes, eyes with an alien determination and intent, glared back into my sapphire ones and intimidated me. I stepped back, weary, but then stepped forward again.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

A fierce glare paralyzed me to the spot. He tilted my head this way and that. "So this is the girl Jon decided to give to Chronos as a Number…" he mused.

Without thinking and with a sudden burst of energy at the mention of a Chronos Number, I swung my saber. I thought I had hit him cleanly, but it turned out that he had stepped back just enough so that it was just a flesh wound. He chuckled, his face relaxing.

"So it seems she's quick." He drew a long, black spear. "How about a little match, girl?"

I froze. I had never been in a battle, but… If he worked for Chronos, I had to prove myself. My brows pulled together as I charged toward him. I leapt up and struck. A metallic clang resounded as I hit the blade of his spear, which I now saw was etched with the Roman numeral II. I pushed on my sword, which I switched to hold only in my dominant right hand, to rebound onto the ground, steadying myself with my left. Absently, my mind registered an itch from my hands; the effects of the sharpened edges of grass cutting my skin.

"Sephiria, is it? You've got some skill there, I'll tell you that," he said, a grin spreading on his face.

"You haven't answered my first question."

"Ha ha!" His deep laugh echoed throughout the garden. "Persistent, aren't you? I am Belze Rochefort, the youngest and second-in-command of the Chronos Numbers."

I rose, holding my saber with both hands again. "What of my parents?"

"Jon and Celine? I imagine they're dead now, since they were targeted by the infamous Zagine. And you, Sephiria Arks… You wish to have revenge on their murderer, I presume? How valiant."

I nodded fervently.

Belze laughed again. "With your skills, you'll never touch Zagine! He'll put sixteen bullets through your body before you can tilt your sword!"

"Then what can I do?" I cried. "I must take revenge on my parents!"

He walked toward me and knelt down, putting a calloused hand on my shoulder. "All you can do, Sephiria," he whispered, "is train. Train and become stronger; strong and fragile yet tougher than anyone else."

I looked down at my saber for the first time since I got here. I gasped, for there was a crack in the stainless steel where it had connected with Belze's spear. I lifted it to the sun to observe it better as I sunk onto the floor, my legs collapsing underneath me.

"It's only natural that would happen," Belze said, sitting down across from me. "After all, my spear is made of solid orihalcon, the world's strongest mineral. That toy," he said, motioning to my saber, "is but an insect to the giant foot that is my Gungnir: it will be destroyed if Gungnir happens to step on it."

I sat there, watching as my hands fisted tightly in my lap and my sword beside me on the grass. "Please, Belze," I said quietly, raising my eyes to meet his. I noticed a slight widening of his pupils as I continued. "I want to become stronger. I want… I want power. Power… for Chronos, and power for revenge."

He smirked haughtily. "I think I can arrange that."

My sword was fixed, now, after merely a couple of days, during which I had become acquainted to the headquarters, and light shone brilliantly from its stainless steel surface. My instructor came towards me, his sword drawn. "Show me what you know," he commanded.

I drew my saber and stood in ready position and charged in to what I calculated was his blind side. It took him by surprise as my saber tore his clothing, but did no damage, for he parried the blow before it could connect with his skin. I cut upward towards the hilt of his sword as he rotated it upwards to block me better.

This was the opportunity I had lunged in for: the opportunity to unleash the move my mother had been instructing me in.

With swift, graceful movements, I disappeared from view, but this maneuver was easy to see through because of the noise I made. My feet stirred the grass and stomped the ground, but that was of minimal importance, for I had my sword at his neck before he turned around. I had won.

"Impressive," he said. "Wonderful." I could see the sweat trailing down his face and blood beginning to seep through the tiny cut I had made on his neck. "I can see that you have learned, but not yet perfected, the graceful art of Petal Dance."

The title of the move brought back memories of a rough training session from three years ago, during the start of my training.

"Faster, Sephiria! Graceful, like a petal in the breeze! Silent!" Mother demanded. "Stand straight; it should seem effortless!"

I worked hard, weaving in and out of the poles set before me. I was running in a sprint, like a traditional charge. With an effort, I stood and attempted the same speed. It was surprisingly easier, yet my feet hit the ground with more noise.

Mother showed me the correct technique with astounding grace. Her feet barely touched the ground and her face showed no signs of effort. On top of that, she was going faster than I could run!

"This," she said to me with a triumphant smile, "is the art of Petal Dance, a technique that took me your entire life span to perfect. You have potential. I believe you can do this in five years."

"Sephiria," my instructor said, cutting into my thoughts. "Since you're of the Arks family, I'm sure you're familiar with the Arks Ryuukenjutsu?"

I blinked. "No… Mother never told me we had a Ryuukenjutsu… whatever that is."

He sighed. "Typical of Celine; that stupid bodyguard." He raised his voice a bit more so I could hear him better. "She was interested in the country of Zipangu and its customs. In her studies, she found that some families had created their own jutsu, or martial art. Ryuukenjutsu is a martial art focusing mainly on the sword. Your mother developed it during the 6 years before you were born. It's a very powerful technique that attempts to minimize strength and maximize destructive capabilities. The catch is, only a few people know it."

"I see…" I said, my gaze returning to my sword. I was fairly disappointed; I wanted to learn this Ryuukenjutsu that Mother developed.

"I'll teach it to you."

My eyes widened. "Really?"

My instructor nodded. "I am one of the few people besides your parents who know all 12 moves in Arks Ryuukenjutsu. Celine, your mother, taught me soon after you were born, in case something happened to them. Back then, I thought her caution was wasted, but now… I'm glad she did that."

I smiled to myself, taking care not to let it show. Hey, I thought to myself. If I can master these twelve, I can create more moves. I paused, knowledge suddenly dawning on me.

More moves so I can create peace alongside Chronos.

Two Years Later

I stepped out of the car. Rain was pouring heavily around the residence at which Zagine had disappeared at, with his last mission. It was an old-style house, with lots of old English-style decor lying about. Kicking down the door, I only heard the sound of the TV on up stairs. My eyes briefly registered a small pistol that could fit in the hand of a child and wondered briefly why an assassin would have a gun that small.

I was fifteen now, and had now mastered all 12 moves of Ryuukenjutsu, and even created four more, with more to come. I had also mastered Petal Dance to the point where it was silent as an owl's wings in the silent forest night. I dismissed Belze, who had become quite an acquaintance, as I walked up the stairs. I briefly passed by a mirror and studied myself, in case this was the last time I'd ever get to do just that, although Belze had great faith in my ability to defeat Zagine.

My light blonde hair now reached to my mid-back and had begun to curl, just slightly. My sapphire blue eyes were soft, yet an underlying hardness formed by Mother's killing lay, a tiger prepared to pounce. I was dressed rather like Belze now; a lavender military/business-style coat covered my thighs and black trousers over my legs. A collared, lighter lavender shirt was worn inside, with a red tie to finish off the professional look.

With this next mission, the execution of Zagine, I hoped to be promoted to an eraser, from which I hoped to become a Chronos Number, the reason for my existence.

I looked around inside the first room in the decorated corridor. It still looked lived-in, as if someone was still alive. I knew it wasn't Zagine, for he always took the master bedroom. That was what my research had brought up. My realistic side denied it, but the other part of me told me that someone was depending on Zagine.

I pushed all thoughts aside as I burst through the door in which Zagine resided. "Zagine!" I called forcefully. "Come fight me for revenge on what you did to my parents two years ago!"

He looked back at me from where he was at the sofa. I could see broken glasses and vases, and gunshots in the walls. Was it the Heartnet family's attempts at shooting the fellow eraser?

He looked down and chuckled, turning off the TV. "You sound just like the kid," he said as he stood, pulling his gun from its holster.

What kid? I drew my sword. "Come, Zagine! Try your worst!"

He shot twice. Two years ago, that would have hit me straight where it was intended, but not now. I was too skilled. I saw the bullets and swiped them down with my saber, slicing the bullets in half. He blinked, amazed, as I performed a perfect Petal Dance, taunting him with a grim face to attack, yet always out of his reach. He fired several times, missing every one, when I began striking, swing by swing, until I decided it was time to finish him. I leapt up onto the ceiling, with only one thought in mind: Arks Ryuukenjutsu number Thirteen: Raitei!

This was a technique resembling thunder, its namesake. One would shoot from the ceiling towards the floor with astounding force, only increased by the speed of gravity, with his sword pointed towards his enemy. It was the fastest of the sixteen techniques I had so far. There was a sickening squish as my sword plunged into his chest. I had purposely missed his heart, but the wound was still fatal enough that he would die in about fifteen minutes.

I lighted down onto the floor, pulling my sword from his chest. Blood splurted out from the chest wound and stained my sword and my clothes. I froze in horror for a moment, the magnitude of what I had just done freezing my insides. I shook myself from the grasp of my horror by telling myself that I had just erased a person who would cause pain to many more people if left unattended. I saved people who could have become like me, with no parents.

But at least I had Chronos to live for. It gave me the strength to kill, and the once-in-a-lifetime chance to take revenge on my parents' murderer. It gave me the strength to believe in peace, and the strength to fight for it, no matter what the cost.

Hurriedly, I wiped the blood from my face, clothes, and sword with a handkerchief. I sheathed it as I picked him up and carried him outside. If there was a person who was dependent on Zagine, it should be known to him or her that Zagine was dead.

I left him on the front gate, bleeding heavily, but still barely alive.

Belze was waiting for me at the car, rain pouring heavily on his rain-and-fireproof coat. I spoke before he could. "Let's wait."

Belze looked at me, puzzled.

"I want to see who is dependent on Zagine."

We stood in silence for several minutes until a small child, about eleven or so, with dark brown hair came by with an umbrella and a bag of groceries. He stopped when he came to Zagine. "Why…? Why are you…" He tried to form the sentence. "Why are you covered in blood?"

Zagine smiled grimly. "I guess… I've become one of the weak and powerless as well…"

The kid shuddered. "No… No!" he cried, throwing his load on the floor. "You can't die! If you die, I'll look like a fool for making you my goal!"

"Ha… ha ha…" he chuckled darkly. "So I was your goal, eh?" Zagine stared straight at the little boy and whispered words I couldn't hear over the rain. But his body suddenly went slack and the boy screamed, taking Zagine's pistol and shooting into the air helplessly.

This was all because of me, I realized.

I turned away, guilt throbbing in my heart. I knew that boy; his face had come up in my search on Zagine. His parents had been Zagine's last target. His name was Train Heartnet. "Belze," I managed to croak, climbing inside the car.

He nodded solemnly, seeming to realize what I wanted, and drove down the road back to Chronos.

I watched the scenery pass by outside the car, the rain blurring all the buildings until they were the same monotone gray and blended in with the melancholy sky.

This… this is necessary for Chronos's development, I repeated. Zagine was killing off Chronos officials and supporters. That seemed to numb the guilt.

"Belze," I whispered, barely audible.

He looked at me via the rearview mirror. "Yes, Sephiria?"

"Why do you obey my orders and follow me? You are a Number; you are not bound by anything."

"I think you know the answer to that better than I do, Sephiria. As for my loyalty… You have more strength than I ever could have imagined; strength that comes from your belief in Chronos. I… I admire it. If anyone I know of has the strength to become Number I, it is you, Sephiria."

I returned my gaze to the speeding world beyond the window; the world I could not touch without tainting unless it was for Chronos. The world, with all its harshness, its tenderness, its tears, its people…

"Belze. Every time I let my emotions get in the way… Slap me; hit me; do something to snap me out of it."

"Why?" he asked, his face puzzled.

"I have promised myself that, until Chronos achieves world peace, to never let my emotions get in the way. Guilt is too encompassing. It distracts me from Chronos's goal. Because of this, I need to get rid of them." I glared into the mirror, my eyes set and unchanging.

Belze stared at me for another minute or so before sighing, giving in to my determination and will. "Fine. I give up. I'll do it."

I smiled for the first time since Mother died.

"Thank you, Belze."

So this is the first chapter of my first Black Cat fanfic. Ever since I finished the series, I wondered what Sephiria's past was that bound her so strongly to Chronos. So... I got up and weaved up my own little web of stories :)

This was a little fast paced, since it wasn't exactly a length issue; it was the issue of trying to get the information that needed to be there in there. And watch out: I may re-post this chapter because I'm dead serious with this story. I'm not stopping until it's perfect. (Originally, I didn't want to post it on FF, but Chainsaw Mafia was like, "JUST POST IT, LADY!!" in that annoyingly loud voice of hers. So here.)

For those of you who added me from my Death Note fanfictions, I'm sorry; I really am. I hit a large pothole on Of Yagami Light and am currently trying to get out of it. -sigh- So it'll come out by July, I hope.

And I know Belze is pretty out of character here. That's supposed to happen. :P Since this is my own little web of stories, it's like I have Doctor's power... :D I can create things the way I desire them to be. And Belze isn't the Belze we know yet. That Belze will come soon. ;D

Sora Pwns x3