Katie rolled over in her bed, refusing to let her terror of thunderstorms get the best of her. She was eight after all, old enough to sleep on her own without someone holding her hand.
Though, she didn't really have many people offering to hold her hand in the first place.
She had to learn how to raise herself most of the time, the only exception being when Cyril was around. She did her own chores, brushed out her own hair, attended the school Cyril's dad enrolled her in, and did the occasional assassination she was told too.
It had been three years since her parents died, almost to the day, on a Halloween night. Ever since then, she worked with Mr. Choi, her so called caretaker, and did his dirty work in exchange for a safe place to live and food to eat.
And ever since then, thunderstorms have terrorized her, mimicking the noise of the bullets that shot her biological parents down.
It was thoughts like that, mingled among a few others, that kept Katie up at night.
One of the thoughts Katie had recently that pricked her conscious, was the one where she started to feel uncomfortable in her own body.
She was tired of her hair being pulled. She was tired of people touching her. She was tired of people thinking she couldn't do what a man could. But moreover, she was tired of people calling her a girl.
The very word caused her skin to itch and made her want to crawl into a hole so she wouldn't be perceived by anyone again.
A soft knock on Katie's door made her turn, lifting the blanket from off of her head so she could see who it was that stepped in.
Even at hardly eleven years old, Cyril stood at least two heads taller than Katie did, granted, her growth had been stunted for a while now due to refusing to eat too many times, or even sometimes not getting the chance to eat due to a failed mission. While failed missions never happened, there were missions that nearly failed, and even coming close to failure was unforgivable.
"Do you feel like going out tonight?" Cyril asked, making Katie sit up and rub her pale green eyes. It's not like she had much of a choice regarding whether she helped him or not, as she was indebted to his father.
"I can." Katie mumbled, pulling on her comfort platform shoes, with her tight sports bra and layers of black clothes to try to keep her warm given the current downpour.
Though given Katie got cold easily, it was sort of pointless.
"You know you don't have to force yourself, you haven't been feeling well lately anyway." Cyril started to say, as he and Katie walked out of their shared apartment.
"I'm sure that I could cover for you if you wanted rest."
"I couldn't sleep now anyway." Katie mumbled, pulling the mask over her face.
The two remained silent for a time, and stepped out into the night, being as silent as possible given the rain currently making huge puddles that splashed under one's footsteps.
Is something keeping you awake? Cyril's fingers flew in sign language, a way to communicate that he and Katie had picked up. Which was handy not only for during missions, but for when Katie couldn't quite use her voice to talk when she was upset.
Katie merely shook her head, refusing to even explain in sign language what she was feeling right now.
The two didn't try to speak again, and Katie realized he didn't have any idea as to what Cyril had dragged him out of the apartment for in the first place.
Rain splattered around them, making the world a dreary tune that matched Katie's current mindset.
Turning through dark twisted alleys and occasionally jumping through rooftops, the two slipped among the shadows unnoticed by pedestrians and other more openly noticed gang members, not very well hidden in Katie's opinion.
