You have some peculiar interest in my origin, yes?

It is not a story I prefer to share. People can call me stoic all they like, but there is little merit to digging up the dead. Nevertheless, I shall oblige in the interest of disclosure, yes?

I don't know who birthed me. I believe I was from a frontier village where babies are chores. So when master doubtless offered a Gold Myriad to take away a burden, as I saw him do later with other ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ of mine, no doubt my parents fell over themselves to accept.

Some people idolise the ideal of being an assassin, feeling it might break up their life of drudgery. But in truth, there is little mirth in what I was trained to do.

Fortunately for me, I was good at it. I was naturally dexterous, and enjoyed reading the scrolls handed down by the ancients.

Fortunate, because, those unable to meet masters high requirements generally disappeared. I don't doubt that the field of crows not far from the hidden village attracted said birds with good reason.

Becoming a Ninja is more than just endless training, studying, and repetition. It is a whole process that breaks down your humanity to its fundamental parts, and rebuilds you as a tool, a thing to be used to kill, that is not allowed to have hopes or thoughts beyond sustaining itself and following orders to murder. A person re-forged as a weapon.

This sword was already an active killer by the time I met the Etranger. There are certain jobs where being a juvenile girl is an advantage. Jeraldine was not a terrible place on the whole, but not even the most effectual and benevolent of rulers can completely erase the scum that festers away from view. It is sad that, even when humans have a common enemy, time must still be spent culling our own. But that is the way of the world, and how we made a living.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

After completing my latest work, I returned to find the village was cinders and ash. It was not hard to understand that the hand of demons was at work. They do love to burn things down, and their blood is quite distinctive to identify, when you have seen alot of blood in your life.

I appraised and confirmed the death of master and the other ninja, and though I came to the realisation that I was now effectively free, I am still, at the end of the day, a tool for killing.

Even though I held no affection for those who passed, I decided I would continue to work, tracking the demons party, and sending them to meet master in the dark beyond.

I suppose it is 'funny' that I can look back on this with such detachment, though humour is not something that comes easily to me.

Which is why, when by chance I stumbled across the camp of the Etranger, Kiku-sama, and Aria-sama... and I found myself smirking, nearly snickering, at their antics, I was tremendously baffled. So much so that I nearly lost control of my stealth, and was very close to being spotted by that man's surprising senses.

For the first time in my life, I abandoned a mission to persue a selfish whim, and follow them, an act that would get me twenty lashes from master for insubordination. At least I can take solace in the fact that ultimately, I am still completing my last job, yes?