Assassination.
To some, this word fills them with cold dread.
These are the targets, who professionals silently follow only to, at the precise moment, sink a kunai or a poison needle deep into the assigned target’s heart.
It’s the term used for assigned murder, organized deaths.
For some, it’s an absolute nightmare, best avoided at all costs.
To me, it’s my world. My dark sadistic pleasure.
More precisely, my job.

I am a rouge ninja from the Village Hidden in the Mist. It was pretty clear from early years of my life that I wasn’t going to be like the rest.
While the rest of the girls played idly among themselves in the flower fields, gossiping and dressing up dolls, I fought with the boys and wrecked havoc in the village with the biggest bullies. Despite my parent’s warnings and pleas, I remained a scruffy tomboy who loved all the rough things in life.
When becoming a full-fledged ninja, my views often clashed with my sensei’s.
He thought it was wrong to cause the enemy as much pain as possible, and to kill them at first chance.
I thought otherwise.
Killing is usually the hardest step for a young ge-nin or chu-nin. Even Jounin crumble at the weight of taking another human life.
I wasn’t like that.
I killed my first victim when struggling through the chu-nin exams. I was banned from taking the exam for a year, shunned for my ‘thoughtless actions’.
But that didn’t stop me from feeling the euphoria killing bought.
I loved having such power.
And I wanted more.
I finally grew fed up with obeying the narrow minded rules of my village. When I turned 18, I celebrated by buying myself a katana, a weapon only men were allowed the privilege to wield – and painting the blade crimson with the blood of my old sensei. His glassy, misunderstanding eyes and shocked look still make my chest burn with triumph.
That’s what you get for bitching to me all the time about shinobi rules, and how female ninjas were never going to be powerful warriors.
Tch. Sexist bastard.
I showed him. I showed that whole goddamn village just how much of a ruthless killer a girl could be.   

So that’s how my life as an assassin began.
I began with small missions, working for pitifully low amounts of money. Those days are not the ones I remember fondly. I lived in filthy gutters, doing almost anything to survive.
But talent takes time to be discovered. Every professional needs to start somewhere And patience – not to mention good work – pays off.
So I gritted my teeth and got to work.
Now, there is not one rouge ninja organization or criminal boss that doesn’t know my name. I even had a mission entrusted on me by the infamous Akatsuki leader.
The guy who delivered his message was very cute.
He also said the leader was considering offering me a place if one of the members got killed, or wounded useless during a mission.
Huh. If half the members look like that delivery guy, and they are as ruthless as gossip has it, I’m all for it.
Anyways, they will know where to find me.
My reputation precedes me.
I set high prices but deliver high quality, fool-proof assassinations.
No need to clear up after me, no trails left, no ANBU alerted.
Nothing – just the dead body, and the information desired delivered to the client.

I accept almost any mission – from information gathering to mass-assassination – and of course, the most recently requested.
Seduce so-and-so, get the information – then kill him.

Sigh. Being so infuriatingly attractive like myself does have its disadvantages sometimes.

To all of those who frown distastefully or smirk at seduction assassination, saying how insignificant they are, I have only one thing to say:
You try dressing up in a corset and a miniskirt, with kunais hidden in your garter belt, and give a convincing performance of finding a bald, sweaty perverted guy sexy.
Then, sweet talk the information out of him before he gets too busy groping you.
Then kill him and manage to escape with the precious information in a way that none of the three-hundred-pound and armed to the teeth security guys notice you. If they do, kick their butts and escape from the trained ANBU while wearing three-inch high heels.
Sounds like fun?
To be honest, the satisfaction of seeing the shock on their repulsive faces just before you plunge your katana deep into their bulging stomachs or slice them to pieces with chakra strings does quite make up for the crap you have to endure to get there.
Sometimes, I just love feeling the blood run off my fingers as they helplessly scream for help.
But hell, every now and then, it takes a LOT of willpower not to strangle the guy right there and then.
But I’m used to it. I have done it hundreds of times, and I can say honestly, I can pull the whole thing off with flare – without staining my clothes of smearing my makeup.

I frown as I stand outside my latest victim’s house. The night is cool and calm. Dark clouds hide the soft light of the moon, dominating the velvety sky. There’s not one spark of a star in the sky anywhere, nothing to guide anyone.
It’s the sort a predator likes to lurk in, eyeing its victim greedily before pouncing.
I allow a smirk to settle on my painted lips.
How appropriate…
Perfect.
I glance down at my outfit one last time, smoothing down the frills of my miniskirt.
I am wearing a tight black lacy top, a dark-red frilled miniskirt, reaching to just above my knees, black fishnets and black high heels. My fingers tug at the mesh-gloves checkering across my arms, the dark purple nail polish lazily reflecting the bright orange street lamp. I fiddle with the belt, checking the hidden kunais and scrolls.
Everything’s set.
A quick retouch of lip-gloss, and I’m ready to go.

The door opens almost immediately after my tentative knocks (role-play: I am a shy girl after all – the easiest disguise that gets the most information out of these creeps), and a security guard sticks his head out. He is dressed in a dark suit, and is wearing dark glasses, a katana and a grim, bored expression. His eyes quickly scan me before opening the door wider.
“Come in and hurry. He’s impatient.”
Oh sweet.

I shuffle in, eyes carefully downverted. Under my heavily mascara-clad eyelashes, I scan my surroundings.
This pig is filthy rich – and doesn’t mind flaunting it off. The rooms are spacious and well-lit by dozens of crystal chandeliers, their bright white light completely chasing the darkness away. The floors are covered in carpets so thick my shoes barely make a sound at all as I walk on them.
The guard leads me through long corridors, the walls crammed with exquisite paintings, the whole house reeking of the overwhelming scent of exotic flowers. I struggle not to gag. It’s like the old saying goes: too much of a good thing can’t be too good.
Not the most original saying I like to quote, but true nonetheless.
We suddenly come to a halt in front of a shiny mahogany door. The guard knocks three times before opening it, and gesturing me inside.
“Come in, come in!” an oily voice from inside beckons.
I roll my eyes before plastering a flirtatious grin across my unwilling features.
Blegh.

I stick my head around the corner and slowly enter the room.
“Gensha-san, I presume?” I ask, my voice low and sultry.
“Oooh, yes, you presume well…” my victim chuckles, rubbing his greasy hands together, his small beady eyes darting all over me.
I nod, closing the door behind me.
He is sitting on a chair, grinning from ear to ear. He is a short, plump man, around forty-five years old. He is wearing expensive-looking clothes, black pants, white shirt and a long brown cloak, wound tightly around his bulging body. His eyes are small, greedy lights set deep in his fleshy face.
I swallow my disgust as I make my way slowly to him.
“And you might be?” he asks, his voice reminding me of an oiled snake.
“Kaina, Gensha-san…” I reply, flicking my long, deep purple hair over my shoulder. Inwardly, I smirk. This bastard is obviously way too busy having ‘fun’ than to pay attention to the criminal world.
His eye hasn’t even twitched at the mention of my dreaded name.
This might sound selfish, but it isn’t. I mean, you know the name Itachi Uchiha, right? And Kisame Hoshigaki. Well, then you know mine.
Shame. Ah well, I will make him remember it…for those last two minutes of his worthless life…
“So, Kaina-chan…” he stands up, moving to pour us both a drink. As soon as he turns his back on me, I quickly scan the room for a route to escape once my job is done.
Ah – a window overlooking the street. Perfect. Those locks should be pretty easy to break…
“I hope you like sake…” his greased voice breaks me out of my planning.
“Oh of course…” I nod, accepting the small cup from him. The spirit burns my throat pleasantly as I sip, watching the greedy bastard throw the whole thing down in one go.
That’s it. Get nice and drunk, so I can get what I want out of you.
“Some more, perhaps? Let me pour some for you…” I offer, flashing a smile. He nods, throwing his enormous body down on the chair once more.
I lift the bottle of sake, carefully concealing the spout from his sight. Quickly, I flip the large gem on my ring open, and dump the powder inside into the spirit. With a soft hiss, it dissolves without a trace.
“Here you are…” I hand him the spiked spirit, settling my hands on his shoulders. I gently massage his back as he drinks the second cup.
“So, Gensha-san…” I begin, pouring him another cup. “You seem an intelligent man…” If sarcasm hurt, I would be screaming by now…
“You seem like the person to help someone so incredibly stupid as me…”
He chortles, his fleshy double chin wobbling.
“What can I do to…educate you, Kaina-chan?” he asks, his sweaty hands roughly grabbing my wrists.
Resisting the urge to slap them away, I continue.
“Well, you see, I always get confused when I see blooming businesses…” I whisper, pouring him another cup of sake.
“I mean, how do businessmen keep their fortunes safe? Banks are always robbed these days, and it’s not like there are any jutsus to prevent criminals…”
He laughs, his face going red. He drains his cup again.
“I-is that all? Y-you r-really are kinda dumb…” he chortles. I grit my teeth, my palms itching for a kunai. I quickly cover it up with a smile and a pitiful pout. He laughs and pats me on the leg. I tactfully move away, pretending to be shy.
“It’s quite simple actually. Y-you see t-those?” he points towards his cabinets.
“Behind those books on the third shelves, I have a hidden safe. It’s DNA programmed by a special scroll, meaning only I can open it.” He hiccoughs.
“How much exactly do you have in there?” I purr, smirking. The powder has taken effect.
“Oh, about three…billion…or so…” he chuckles. “My life’s fortune…but why so curious, eh?” he leers at me, suddenly standing up.
I automatically back away, gagging on the stench of cigarettes and sake reeking from him. He giggles and pushes me against the wall.
“I mean, you’re not that expensive are you?” he laughs, his hands on my waist. “Enough talk…let’s get down to business…”
I smile, my hand trailing down to my belt.
“You know what? You’re completely right.”
Suddenly, I lash out with my right hand, slamming my fist into his jaw. As he backs away, nursing his jaw, I swirl around, raising my foot and crashing it into his lower regions.
He collapses onto the carpet, holding his goodies, biting his lips in attempt to stop the screams tearing through his body.
I chuckle as I regain my balance. High heels do cause some excruciating pain down there.
He lets out a high-pitched whimper, spitting blood from his bruised and torn jaw. The scarlet drops make deep stains on the cream carpet.
“You…you fucking bitch…” he rasped, his piggy eyes murderously searching my green ones.
I chuckle, kneeling beside him.
“Poor, poor Gensha-san…” I shake my head patronizingly. “So held up in his own little world. So obsessed with himself. So blind.” I straighten up, laughing.
“You didn’t even flinch when I told you my name. That alone screams stupidity – not that your appearance doesn’t…well, let ME educate you…” I pull out a kunai. With a swift kick of my left leg, I send him crashing down on his back.
I step on his chest, making him cry out in pain. I only increase the pressure, grinning.
“I am an assassin. I have been sent here to bash your brains out – but not before telling me where you kept your stash.”
His eyes widen in horror.
“Oh, don’t look so worried…” I stoke his cheek with a finger, my smile malicious. “That three billion will go towards a very good cause in the criminal world…”
He struggles to say something, but is cut off by my foot. I have no patience for whatever he has to say.
“The one who gave me the mission wanted me to give you this message…” I dig into a pocket, pulling out a small scrap of paper.
“Gensha – you have been a bloody fool. Never mess with Akatsuki again. Not that you will have the chance anyways.” I lower the paper. “Hmm…stylish. I gotta admit, these Akatsuki guys do have style.”
He whimpers again, blood bubbling out of his mouth.
Time to finish this.
“Any last words?” I purr.
He stares at me, his gaze still disbelieving.
“Good.”
Swiftly, I reach for the scroll in my belt. As I swipe my thumb across the ink, smoke explodes across the paper’s surface, and my katana appears.
“Goodbye, Gensha…” I snarl as I grab my trusty blade. “Hope you have fun rotting in hell!”
And with that, I thrust the blade into the man’s chest.
A small fountain of blood spurts out at the sides of the wound, staining the steely surface of the blade. The white shirt absorbs the crimson liquid, the deathly puddle spreading all over the exquisite material quite quickly.
His eyes widen, mouth open, hands clawing at his neck in a pathetic attempt to scream for help.
I lean on the katana, thrusting it deeper. He is taking a long time to die, and I am getting impatient.
His eyes twitch insanely as they desperately search my cold ones, lips gaping. The grey irises slowly roll into the back of his head, his neck collapsing, head rolling to the side.
After I am completely certain he’s dead, I sigh, relieved.
Now for the money…
Reaching for yet another hidden pocket, I pull out a small wooden case. Cracking it open, I snatch one of the transparent rice papers nestled inside.
“Please work…” I mutter, pressing it over the fleshy thumb of the dead businessman. Smoke rises from the surface, a faint purple outline slowly tracing through the paper.
With a victorious smirk, I bound over to the bookshelf. Tossing the files aside, the thick steel safe, Gensha’s logo engraved on it, stares me in the face. The small touchpad glints promisingly in the lamplight, almost begging me to rob it.
Well, why resist the temptation?
I flick the paper onto the touchpad. The computer beeps, locks whirl, and the safe clicks open.
I grin at the notes, neatly arranged in the safe.
“Well, hello, sweethearts. Come to Kaina.”
When all the money has been scooped up and stored in a scroll, I quickly scan the room for any telltale signs I could have left behind. With a cloth, I clean the surfaces I touched, rubbing the fingerprints off.
There were times when only sheer luck saved me from a mistake caused by my stupidity.
And mistakes are something I must avoid.
After the cleaning is done, I crouch down to the corpse one last time. With a precise slice of the katana, I carefully wrap a little evidence in a rag.
Stuffing the tissue down my skirt pocket, I strap the katana on my back and crouch on the windowsill, fingers cracking the locks open.
As I wrench the window open, I hear the door creak behind me.
“Gensha-sama, you have a very-“ the security guard’s words are stuck in his throat as he observes his former employer, lying in a pool of blood.
I mentally agree with the horror and disgust spreading on his features. He does look revolting. And his blood does mess up that beautiful carpet in a revolting way.
He wretches his gaze away, gaping at me.
“Wh-what the fuck did you do?” he barks. “Who the bloody hell are you, woman?!”
I sigh, reaching for the clasp holding my hair together.
“Did you have to get involved?” I roll my eyes at his furiously shaking figure. “I can’t imagine you would be SO attached to this pig…but whatever…”
My wrists flick, and the guard howls in pain as a poison needle embeds itself in his neck. He drops down on fours, collapsing beside Gensha.
“Well, whatever, Join him.”
I stand in the window, the wind tugging at my purple locks. With a grin, I swing my legs over the side.
“I bid you goodbye, suckers.”
Waving my dead audience farewell, I jump out.
Cold air rushes through my hair, tugging at my clothes as I fall, arms extended, knees bent. A rush of euphoria attacks my veins as involuntarily, I let out a small whoop of exhilaration.
I flip myself through the air, hands making a grab for a nearby rope, holding up a string of lampions. The harsh surface scorches my palms as I slide along the rope, knocking the lampions off one by one. They fall onto the cold pavement below, their delicate sheets tearing, scraps of paper scattering all over the square like impossibly beautifully decorated butterflies.
A dull surge of pain from my hand reminds me I don’t have much time to admire the fleeting beauty, result of my destruction. I aim for the nearest roof, swinging my body across the night.
Landing with a loud thump, I straighten up, eyes narrowed. When nothing moves, I let out a low sigh of satisfaction. Hoisting the katana higher on my shoulder, I pat my bulging pockets.
Glancing at the moon, I frown slightly.
My client said midnight, at the old abandoned mansion of the Tsuchikage. By the looks of the faded butter-coloured orb, half hidden by the wispy clouds, it looks like I have about five minutes.
Oh fuck. I hate running.

“You’re nearly late.”
Panting ever so slightly, I frown a little at the speaking figure. Half of his face is hidden in the shadow of the crumbling roof. All I can make out is long black bags framing his pale face, deep wrinkles slicing across his cheek – and his brilliant, blood-red eye.
Oh joy. The Uchiha prodigy himself, bitching to me about being on time.
“Oh, I beg your pardon.” I reply sharply, my voice seeping my resent and sarcasm. “I’ll make sure not to laze around the next time I’m dodging the weapons of the guy’s army.”
I smirk inwardly as his eye narrows, the little black dots dancing dangerously. I love pissing people off.
Even if it usually nearly gets me killed every time.
The one on his left chuckled. “Itachi-san, un, don’t be so mean. Half a second won’t make half of the money disappear.” He cocks his head in my direction. I lock gazes with his single visible eye, his vibrant blue gaze glazed over with curiosity and optimism. It makes me want to smile.
Winking at him, I cup my chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know. For that, I really should add on some interest to the price.” I hum with a mock frown.
The second speaker laughs. “See? Now Kakuzu will definitely gut you out, Itachi-san, un!”
Before the Uchiha could retort him, the figure in the middle cut in.
“Both of you, sock it in.” he commanded in a quiet yet forceful voice. Stepping out of the shadows, he turned his strangely ringed eyes on me.
“I assume it was successful?”
Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I pull out the money and the small bag containing my little blood-soaked evidence. I place it in his outstretched hands, the moonlight playing on the metal of his ring.
“Three billion and thirty-four hundred. And there’s the trophy your requested to prove his death.”
He unwraps the rag and nods. Looking up, his pierced lips curl into a small smile.
“Arigatou, Kaina-san. Your effort saved us much time and effort.”
I shrug. “It’s my job. And it was an honour to do something for the infamous Akatsuki.”
Nodding, he drew out a promisingly thick wad of notes. Pressing it in my hand, he turned around.
“Until next time, then.”
Fingers tightening on my payment, I watched the trio disappear into the shadows. When the last of the swirling scarlet clouds are swallowed by the darkness, I drop my stance. Whistling low, I let out a breath I didn’t know was holding.
Turning my hell, I stuff the notes in my pocket. Wiping the damp blood cooling on my fingers on the nearby wall, I smile.
There’s no way to brighten a dull night than to spill a little blood.
With a low laugh, I walk down the path, lit in pale light. The katana dripping blood steadily, my heels clacking on the stones, my purple locks matted with red.
I glance up to see a crow circling above me.
Smiling wryly at the irony, I sigh contently.
What a wonderful night.
And with my dark omen guiding me from the air, I retrieve back into the shadows.