The Innocent Murderer (Mary Sue Series)

Chapter 11

"I have a request to make."

The speaker leaned towards me, and a white peach was handed to me. I held the heavy fruit in both hands, looking at it closely. It was perfectly grown, not a single blemish insight. The skin was completely opaque, hiding the true identity from the viewer. However, after years of carefully growing peaches, I knew the skin was barely two millimeters thick.

"Speak." I cradled the fruit in my hands. I sat back, back ramrod straight, and eyes trained on Haku.

"I would like for you to kill this man," he answered, showing a small photo. The second I laid my eyes upon the picture, he swiftly covered it with his hands. Although we were alone outside, Haku had been trained to always be on guard. He knew better than to risk a name to client, epsieclaly if it's a murder request.

"Conditions?"

"Give me his head." Haku knew exactly what to say to me when asking for a request to be made. Short, concise, and to the point.

I had woken up early enough to see Haku standing outside, waving to me. The second I saw that basket in his hands, I knew why he had met up with me.

I raised the fruit to my lips and bit into the flesh. Red juice dribble from my mouth and trickled down to my chin. I absently wiped the juice with a handkerchief, staining the cloth a ruby red. Haku watched, a pleased smile on his feminine face, as I ate the white peach in front of him.

I took another bite of the blood peach, feeling the sweet, tangy flavor course through me. I licked my lips, while my eyes stayed zeroed in on him. Juice splattered everywhere but I paid no mind.

"Is there a deadline?"

"Before you leave the Land of Waves with your teammates." He nodded his head towards Tazuna's house.

"Very well. I'll grant your request."

"Thank you." Haku stood up and left abruptly as he came, the now empty basket in his hands. I watched him wander into the forests. I looked down at the fruit in my hands, as the blood red juice dribbled onto my fingers and onto the ground, staining it a dark brown.

Whenever a potential client comes and asked for a favor, their payment must be a single, beautifully grown white peach. The skin must be completely opaque and have no other color but white. The weight of the fruit must be at least two pounds, and the juice must be a rich, vibrant red.

Peaches that fit my standard is incredibly difficult to grow. However, as I child, I've been taught that my work, big or small, comes with a heavy price. Literally.

Once, a client asked me why I choose a rare peach as payment rather than money. I responded, "Because there's nothing I want to spend money on. Peaches come and go." She left it at that.

I finished the peach, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. The sticky juice was smeared all over on the back of my hand. Another requirement of this far peach was it had to be pit-less.

Haku had chosen a perfect peach. Seems like I would kill his target.