Yor Briar.
Twenty-seven years old.
Unmarried.
Lives alone.
Civilian identity: City Hall employee.
Secret identity: Contract Killer. Assassin.
Codename: Thorn Princess
Now she's married. (Has been for a year) With a 6 year-old daughter who goes to Eden Academy. Her husband's a doctor. Brother's a diplomat. Perfectly normal, respectable family. No one will ever know about her secret identity. Ever. They can't.
She doesn't kill for the fun of it. It's not fun. No fourteen year-old wants to have blood on her hands. The blood of men who screamed as she pushed her poisoned needles through their necks, or pulled out their viscera; eyeballs quickly fogging over and becoming glassy. Just like those of a fish. Sometimes if she's not careful she'll chip the eyes with her needles once she's done; when she whips around quickly she'll accidentally pull out a piece of the eye. It's a bit like gelatin, the feel. She tries not to think about it.
She tells her brother she works at a butcher's shop. She hadn't thought of that excuse; the Shopkeeper had.
Yuri seems to have his doubts at first. She had always skirted around the actual description of her job. But it explained the blood, anyway. As long as it wasn't hers, Yuri would believe her.
But some of the blood was hers, unfortunately. She often got hurt on her missions. Sometimes she was lucky to get out at all. But if she didn't do the job she wouldn't get paid. So Yor worked hard. She trained. And trained. And trained. And she did the job. She was a highly trained assassin, after all. She always did the job. No matter what it was, no matter who she had to kill. As long as she and Yuri could survive.
But the Shopkeeper had recruited her for a purpose. They didn't kill just anyone or even everyone. They killed bad people. Corrupt people, who were lining their pockets at the expense of the people, trying to keep up aftershocks of uncertainty and keep the country destabilised so peace would never come... And they could get rich off the people forever. Whether they died or suffered was nothing to them. So killing these people became nothing to Yor. An arms dealer who was selling weapons to the enemy country. A diplomat who was selling state secrets. A landowner who had wrested the properties of peasants by force, without compensation, leaving them to starve. Yor killed them all. A politician who preyed on young girls, who had a lascivious glint in his eye as she walked into the room. She was fifteen. She killed him too.
Her "clients" were nearly always super-rich and influential. They were always corrupt and preyed on the weak. They had always worked to hurt the people of this country. She worked hard to protect and serve them. Protect people like her little brother. Like herself. Give him a better life. A few cuts and bruises here and there didn't hurt.
She walks home with a spring in her step. She had a big payday at work today. She has a small cut on her eyebrow from where she narrowly dodged a knife today. But she managed to kill all the targets. She smiles with the happiness of a job well done. And anyway, she's excited! She bought her brother a new book on that foreign language he's been wanting to learn. He'll be so happy. She did good. She helped the country by taking out that mob boss, and she got something good for her brother. He'll be so happy. A tear trickles down her cheek. Yeah. She did good.
