The woman cursed, backing away from the ever-advancing figure. Her back hit the wall. damn. Dressed head to foot in red and black sleek combat gear, her pursuer came to a stop, brandishing twin swords with burnished ebony black blades.

She had made her last, and final mistake. How was she supposed to know? *

Adjusting the weapon in her hand, she spoke, voice trembling "you don't have to do this-I'm sorry. Tell them- tell them they can have it, just- please my kids are coming home soon"

The figure didn't appear to hear her.

She took a breath "Hi" she stuck her hand out "I think we got off on the wrong foot, my name's Amélie." She said brightly

The figure's head was cocked at a slight angle and observed her hand but didn't make any move to shake it.

Amélie took her hand back and shifted sheepishly "that's usually when you tell someone your name"

Closing in on her, the figure responded in a male voice "I'm sorry" he shrugged apologetically "I don't think I'm allowed to tell you that".

He raised his swords.

She hefted her hatchet.

Blood splattered across the floor. It created chaotic patterns on the walls. it seeped into his skin. It dripped lazily off his swords. It was under his nails. It was in his hair. It assaulted his senses; the metallic tang that hung in the air, the way it dried on his skin, the thump of the woman's heart as it fruitlessly pumped blood around her body, only for it to leak sluggishly onto the floor in a futile effort to keep her alive.

The woman choked on her own blood a sickening gurgling sound escaping her. Amélie, that was her name. The woman took one last rattling breath before she stilled.

Only then did the boy realise how long he had been standing there. He glanced at the ornate clock that was filling the silence with a steady tick, tick, tick; Amélie's children would arrive in five minutes.

The sink gurgled the water turning a lazy shade of pink as he cleaned his katana's. He worked the blood out of his hair and washed his face. Walking down the bustling streets of New York covered in blood would be conspicuous to say the least. He snorted at the thought.

The boy had never considered his appearance, never taken a second in between missions to indulge in such vanity. But now he did. He regarded his reflection, his appearance was completely unremarkable, well except for his eyes. They were a peculiar colour, brown tinted with an unnatural deep crimson. He liked his eyes.

The black sky dried his hair with a towel that had been hanging from the rack.

The wind whipped his face as he opened the fire escape, leaving the apartment and the bloody corpse inside. He waited silently outside the apartment for her children to come home as he had been instructed.

He heard the door open and watched, making sure not to be seen. Laughter filled the apartment as a boy of around fourteen stepped in holding his little sister's hand she was roughly six. The amusement faded and for a moment a heavy silence descended upon the room.

The little girl ran forward grabbing her mother's arm, unsure what was going on "mom, mom get up!" the girl began to cry. The boy just stood there in shock. He only moved when his sister tugged on his sleeve pleading for them to get help. Jolting into action he shepherded her back into the hallway shutting the door before calling 911.

Back on the fire escape the black sky was slumped against the wall gasping for air. He felt as if a ten-tonne weight had settled on his chest.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't breathe.

He did not have time to deal with this now, he needed to supress the panic, push it down.

'yup.'

'Healthy.'

'Shut up brain' he thought irritably before realising he probably shouldn't be arguing with himself. That was… decidedly worrying.

Focusing on his surroundings to calm down, he took stock of the skyline. The apartment had been ten stories up meaning the view was breath-taking up here the shimmering lights from the city below clearly visible. the wailing sirens accompanied by blaring music and cab drivers cursing loudly was audible from here, at least to him it black sky knew his hearing was exceptional and that most could not hear quiet conversations from miles away; he found this comforting, like only he could hear the city's beating heart. He allowed the city's steady pulse to lull him.

His katanas slid into their sheaths concealed under his coat. He made no sound as he made his rapid descent down the metal stairs, not so much as the rustle of fabric or wheezing breath. A smile lit up his face, his Sensei would be proud.**

The boy liked the compound. It was safe. It was Bakuto's soft smile and kindly manner, it was the sunlight that peered through the trees as the students practice their fighting patterns.

"Sensei!" the boy called as he barrelled toward the older man.

Bakuto turned, a smile on his face, arms open as the boy collided with him. A laugh of delight escaped the boy as the man enveloped him in a hug.

Bakuto had a nice smile and a kind face, framed. His hair was a mess of chocolate curls and his were a warm brown.

Bakuto stepped back his hand remaining on the boy's shoulder "Good to see you again child. what brings you here; especially at this hour" enquired Bakuto, pointedly eyeing the compound grounds cloaked in shadow that was only chased away by delicate slivers of silver moonlight.

The boy's face slid into an impish grin "Alexandra has business in New York. She wanted to stay in a fancy hotel," his grin widened "I convinced her otherwise" his eyes held a mischievous glint.

The older man regarded the boy knowingly, good humour written across his face "I think what you mean to say is that you used those puppy eyes against her, because I know she would not come here willingly".

The boy tried to look innocent but then gave up realising how futile It was "okay you caught me. I begged her to let me stay here. She said as soon as I completed all of the… errands I was assigned New York, I could come and see you. she should be arriving in a day or two".

Bakuto slung an arm around his mentee's shoulders and began steering towards his living quarters.

A proud smile permeated his features "you finished days ahead of schedule, well done. How did they go? Did you remember your training?"

The boy grinned excitedly, gesticulating wildly as he spoke, resembling a rather over excited puppy. "They went great! compared to you none of the targets were a challenge. Plus, I was completely silent just like you taught me! It was so cool I couldn't even hear my own footsteps when I ran!".

Bakuto chuckled "I'm glad to hear it. Is there anything you are finding difficult?".

The boy frowned quizzically tilting his head as if in thought. it looked painful. "you know, I don't think so… maybe tomorrow could you teach me another technique, I'm getting kind of bored"

Bakuto's smile was faint, but mirth danced in his eyes "you always were one of my best students. Of course, starting from tomorrow we will begin… something a damn sight more engaging than what you've been doing for the last few week and, dare I say it, more fun"

Rolling his eyes the boy made a face "you have no idea, its just been run of the mill missions and learning how to hide money and embezzle accounts discreetly. So. Booooring."

Bakuto let out an amused huff and suddenly stopped. Only then did the boy realise they had already arrived at his rooms.

Smiling tiredly the boy said his goodbyes to Bakuto and retired for the night. the back of his head hit the wall and he slid down to slump on the floor. He washed all the blood and grime away in the shower, changed into pyjamas then finally, collapsed in the double bed in the centre of his room. The world faded to black as he fell into an uneasy sleep plagued by blood and violence and death.