𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗 | A Nakahara Chuuya Fanfic

{ 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛 }

୨⎯ 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚜 ⎯୧

16 years ago when I was just 6 years old, father forced me into rough training to build the perfect assassin.

"Husband, I think it's about time for our dear Y/n to take our place." mother said.

Father replied, "Do you think her frail body can handle it?"

"I could get her to agree easily. A mother knows everything about her child. Aren't I always correct?"

"Alright, alright. Tomorrow morning I'll train her to become an assassin."

"I'll take care of the little one. He may not be ready yet but demonstrating to him the basics will do."

When I first heard of the word assassin, I thought, wow that is so cool I get to be like my parents! ..but it was all just a fantasy. I could never guess that an assassin was meant to kill people.

Every child would want to be exactly like the person who they look up to the most, right?

When I got into my first day of training, everything seemed fine to me. I remember it clearly in my head as father gave me a sturdy wooden stick, he said, "This is for you to learn how to defend yourself."

"A wooden stick like this can protect me?" I asked, tilting my head a bit as I spoke to him.

"No. It is all about your potential. If you have enough strength, you can make use of that wooden stick to protect yourself." father replied and the next thing I knew I was down on the ground with a huge wound on my forehead.

I never put much thought of it despite the training being much more than I could carry on my shoulders. Each day was a new bruise to add to my collection. I just kept telling myself, this is for my own safety!

After a month of training, father put me into the real deal. My first ever mission.

I was definitely shocked at that time because what was this mission for if all that training was only for defense?

A task for me to successfully defend myself without seeking for aid to father or mother?

6 year old me didn't totally understand anything up to the moment when a real sharp knife was handed to me by a friend of father. He was assigned to look out for me if ever I "fail" the mission.

"Mister, what am I actually gonna do? I don't really get what's written on these papers." I asked with my innocent, clueless head while I hand him back those nonsense papers packed in a folder

He shortly answered with a cold tone, "You're gonna kill someone."

"K-Kill..? I don't understand exactly how-"

He then grabbed my hair tightly, dragging me close to his face as he said, "Slash his throat, cut his head off, or whatever you wanna do. Just kill that man and I'll bring you back to your house. Got it?"

Fear couldn't even match the description I felt when I was in hiding while I await for the target to arrive. I was just doing what I was told to do by father's friend.

My heart was ready to explode as I thought to myself, if I don't kill the target, I'll be killed. No matter by whom but I was sure about the fact that I'll die earlier than I wished and prayed for.

I was gonna go out of my hiding spot but failed miserably as I got caught by the target. He apparently noticed the loud whimpers I made while I surprisingly didn't.