Two weeks had passed since Nightingale had cut down Lucy.

She still thought about her actions, unknowing if she had done the right or wrong thing. Yet she could not decide on her own, only time would be able to tell her if she had done good or not.

After the Colonel had entered the clearing with a team of medics she was asked about Lucy’s status. Quickly had she given a full report before the red haired soldier was carried away on a stretcher.

Afterwards she had walked back to base together with Bann, talking a bit with him. Telling him her thoughts on the matter and her predictions for the future. Since then Lucy had been at the medical ward while Nightingale slowly had gotten more used to her new life at the base.

She slowly had started to develop a sort of routine. Personal training in the morning, the sort of training she had done nearly all her life. Then she would eat and then go to the archive where she was getting taught about all sorts of things she needed to know.

Many things she learned were rather hard to grasp, but she managed to understand them after thinking a bit more about them. Due to this she made good progress, most of her training would be on theoretical teaching anyway. For the physical aspects she was more then qualified in most of them already.

In those two weeks of Lucy’s absence she had only struggled with very few things, one of them being the requests for all the things she needed. It took her quite a while to find the right person to hand her requests to. But after that was out of the way each day there came a few more pieces of the things she had ordered.

Also she finally managed to acquire a few more sets of clothing, this time including a jacket and sweatshirt. There had also been a dire need for more underwear, it just didn’t feel good to walk around without any below her clothes while the few pieces of garment she possessed at that time where in the washing machine.

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Then after these two weeks was the day Lucy was getting released from the medical ward, Nightingale had not visited her once for she was sure that her presence would not have been appreciated at all.

A small forlorn smile lay on her lips as the young ex assassin sat on her bed, she was well aware of the fact that even if Lucy returned the distance between them had only grown further and colder.

But that was natural, everyone would fear and be wary of someone who had stabbed them down just like that. No matter what reason there was for that action, but it was okay for Nightingale. She had just done what she had to do, her reason even if only she alone understood it was what made it bearable for her.

It still was a strange feeling in her chest, she had not killed. Yet it did feel bad, it felt somehow sad. She could simply not understand why her heart felt like it did. She had taken no life just done something which had to be done to ensure survival not only for Lucy but also for herself in the future.

All she had done was preparing, opening the eyes of someone blinded by the peacefulness of society. ‘’Why does it hurt…’’ she whispered into the silence of the empty room. But the answer would not come to her. She could simply not understand it, as such a sigh escaped her lips before she stood up from her bed.

It was still early morning, the sun had just risen behind the horizon. Pushing away the lurking shadows creeping around within the last vestiges of the night. With slow steps she moved across the room, opening her locker and took out a new set of clothes.

Black sweat pants, black tank top, ankle high socks and a thin jacket. Quickly she put on the clothes before slipping into her running shoes. After tying them up she closed the spint and grabbed her sword with the right hand. Slowly moving towards the door of the bungalow.

As the young women stepped into the courtyard she stretched and took a deep breath of the cool and fresh morning air. Then she started to run, running as if to escape those feelings of hers, evading the thoughts which pained her.

For a long time she ran along the walls, her fast steps being one of the few sounds echoing quietly across the courtyard. Mixing into the sounds of soldiers patrolling the walls, engines humming and people training on the shooting range.

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An hour, two then three passed like that. She could run for however long she wanted, yet she came to a stop and sighed again. Even if she could outrun many people, her feelings and thoughts were impossible to run away from.

‘’I can’t run…’’ she whispered siletnly, as if to reassure herself of what she had to do. This was the first time that Nightingale felt like this. Not wanting to take responsibility for what she had done. Not facing a person she had harmed, something had changed. Deep within her a small seed had grown, maybe… Maybe it was what others called humanity.

Again she sank deep into thought and began to return to her bungalow with slow steps, taking a while to actually return. Quietly she opened the door and stepped into the silent room. She got out of her shoes, put them next to the door and then walked towards the shower room.

In the dressing room she got rid of all her clothes and just as she was about to enter she shower she stopped. ‘’Why… is this weighing so heavy…’’ she mumbled into the silence, then turned around and stepped into the main room once again.

Her mind was truly muddled, so much she even had forgotten towel, new clothes and the other shower necessities. So she once more went to her locker, opened it and grabbed new clothes and underwear, comb, towel, shampoo and shower gel.

With a metallic thud she closed it once more and went over to the shower. Dropping her clothes careless in the dressing room she entered the warm shower room, not even bothering to close the door behind her.

Maybe it was not that she was not bothering, but more not thinking about it. ‘’Why… I don’t understand it’’ she spoke again to herself. This feeling was truly eating at her, this new emotion which had arisen so suddenly. So truly mysterious for her.

Nightingale simply dropped she shower utensils on the ground beneath her and threw the towel into the corner of the room. Only to slowly put her head against the wall. ‘’Why… Why… Why!’’ her last word she screamed out, reverberating in the room.

Small tears began to drop from her eyes as she switched on the hot water, hiding those small drops of water she produced in the falling rain from above.

Time began to tick away like this, twenty minutes, half an hour, a hour, two. Only after a very long time did she switch of the water. Her tears of confusion and anxiety had dried quite a while ago. Yet her mind did never quiet down, only raging more and more. Seething waves of strange emotions tormenting her, overshadowing even the usual whispers and voices prevalent in her mind.

She took her time drying her hair and body, as well as putting on new clothes. Then Nightingale just walked to her bed and sat down, slowly she drew her sword from its scabbard. A small sigh escaping her lips, none of pain anymore. ‘’At least… this remains familiar…’’ she whispered as her finger tenderly ran across the blade.

She once more was able to hear the whispers and screams loud and clear, cursing her, begging and pleading. At least these voices would not change, her sin and burden staying the same no matter what was going to happen. So she closed her eyes, sword resting on her lap. A hand on the heft another on the body of her sword.

Finally while all she did was listen to the endless curses her mind began to calm down, focusing all her senses on the inside. Sinking deeper and deeper into her mediation, till all which remained was darkness. Yet where for everyone this darkness was endless and empty, for Nightingale it was filled with colors and screams.

Red was the most prevalent color, blood was painting her inner world, her thoughts, her mind. Whatever this place was she reached within her meditation. Yet the crimson color was not the only thing there was. Countless shades also where there, each the fuzzy shape of a human. Swirling around her, being close yet never touching her.

Each wielding the face of someone who’s life she had taken before. ‘’I hope you die!’’ ‘’Why did you kill me?’’ ‘’I was innocent…’’ ‘’I don’t understand’’ ‘’Spare me’’ ‘’Why…’’ Each Shade having a voice of his own. They all spoke, called out to her. A symphony of pain, hatred and grief forever resounding in her mind.

Once she was afraid, once she could barely keep her sanity through all these curses. Yet today these curses were what gave her strength, following her path forward. Showing her that this part of her, this past was unchangeable.

It allowed her to see that the future was going to be different, that she had to walk a different path. Straying from the path she had walked all her life even if it became painful or scary, confusing or awkward. It was the choice she had made and this path she would walk.

With her resolution strengthened once again she silently and slowly began to open her eyes, ascending from her dreamlike state back to the reality once again. Then with a quick motion her hand rose and the blade turned, with her other hand raising the scabbard. A swift movement and the blade was sheathed once again.

Then calmer then before Nightingale began to wait, waiting for Lucy to return. She still dreaded it for unknown reasons, but she wanted to face this moment now. Get it over with and maybe even figure out what it was that was gnawing at her this much.

An hour went by like this, then two, then three. Many hours of this day had already been wasted with nonsensical actions, so very untypical of her usual behaviour. Yet she had chosen to wait for however long it took.

Then finally in the evening the door of her bungalow opened, the red headed women stepping in. Her eyes scanned the room and came to rest on Nightingale. The movements of the young soldier stopped as she simply stared at the ex assassin.

It was then that Nightingale decided to walk forward, like this she stood up from the bed and went ahead, slowly getting closer to Lucy wordlessly. Yet it was just like it had been the last time, with a single small difference. Lucy took a step back each time Nightingale took a step forward.

Yet at the same time when Nightingale got within roughly three meters of Lucy the hand of the red head went to her hip, undoing the hold on her holster and drew her gun. It was a quick and fluid motion with which the gun was pointed at Nightingale.

She looked at Lucy’s eyes and she could see two things, determination… and fear. A small smile rose to Nightingales lips, yet a uncertain sadness also rose within her heart again. It was a painful feeling yet she kept her smile as she spoke. ‘’You did well…’’

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Like this two years of training passed by…

Her team grew as her mental state slowly changed… becoming a bit more human each day...

The end~