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.
Katie didn't really register that there was a possibility that they would have to pull off an assassination that night until both Katie and Cyril were standing above a man lying peacefully in his bed.
Katie didn't know his name, all he knew was Cyril nodded at him. That was his cue.
Without thinking Katie left a splatter of blood on the bedsheets, taking great care to prevent the blood from touching his own skin so he wouldn't smell like the murdered man below him.
The rain would help with that well enough.
It was a quick in and out job, something the two children were more than capable of, which made Katie wonder exactly why they needed his special talents that particular night for that job.
If it was up to him, he would've picked something much more difficult as any child could've pulled off that assassination.
At least that was until Katie realized that he and Cyril weren't in their own territory anymore.
It didn't occur to him that there was a possibility that Katie just sliced the throat of someone important to the gang, until Cyril's face was slammed into a wall.
Katie didn't make a noise, merely slinking back into the shadows unnoticed by the larger blonde boy who had grabbed ahold of Cyril.
The two brawled in the alley, and Cyril's current body language was telling Katie to hide.
They didn't know if anyone else had seen them, so it was best for Katie to wait and ambush anyone that tried to ambush Cyril currently.
And so they tried.
Katie scaled the brick wall to perch at a windowsill, scanning the ground around Cyril and the blonde attacker, every entrance and exit to either side of the alley was noted down.
Katie merely threw an expertly aimed knife or throwing star into the temples, throats, mouths, or chests of anyone that trespassed.
There wouldn't be any witnesses.
Around the time when Katie had dispatched five people, Cyril still working on the blonde one, Katie decided that they would do better off trying to make a break for it instead of holding their ground.
The instant Katie silently made his way down to the ground, it was like his world got dragged out from under him as someone grabbed his ankle and threw him against the wall.
Katie coughed upon impact, using that to prevent himself from screaming or crying out in pain, his stealth mode still intact.
The attacker didn't seem to think Katie would recover quickly because he was upon the attacker before he could grab ahold of Katie again, simply dodging under his arm and letting his sharp metal ring down his side.
The man fell to the ground, facefirst, and the thud of his body got the blonde one's attention from where he was with Cyril.
Neither boy seemed to have pulled out any weapons yet, and had simply been trying to win it out on fists alone, given the heavily bruised knuckles on both of them.
The blonde boy glared at Katie, then the bodies of his six companions registered with him finally and he shook his head.
"No, no, it can't be. . ." The blonde boy muttered in shock.
"There were only supposed to be two of you."
"There are." Cyril said, taking the moment to roll his shoulders to crack them. "That right there is the Wendigo. Never failed on a mission once. A kill count of now seventy nine people. The Choi's most secret and deadliest weapon. I'd run back to your house now before the wendigo decides to make the kill count eighty."
Upon hearing Cyril's low but dangerous tone, the blonde boy shook his head, realizing that he was out of his league. "I'm leaving today, but I swear on my life I will bring down the Wendigo one day, and break them until they can't even speak anymore."
At that, he left.
Leaving Katie and Cyril on their way back again.
Cyril noticed a small limp in Katie's stride, probably from popping a ribcage when he hit the wall earlier, and asked, "I can carry you if you need-"
"Stop offering to carry me, it's getting old." Katie rolled his eyes, "the almighty wendigo can walk on their own two feet."
"You seem rather irritated with something today." Cyril said, bringing fourth the obvious.
"It's nothing. I just feel like I want to rip my own skin off at this point." Katie glowered, not really caring how edgy he sounded.
Katie- Cyril started to sign, but Katie cut him off verbally.
"No." Katie whispered sharply. "Don't call me that."
For a minute, Cyril just stared at Katie, obviously unsure of how to continue with Katie's change in mood.
"Is there something else you want to go by?"
Katie hadn't really thought about it before, but he shrugged. "I dunno. I don't like Katie because it brings back a lot of memories I'd rather forget, affiliated with my parents mostly. And I just- it doesn't feel like me. It hasn't for a while now."
"Does this have to do with the really small sports bras? Or something else?" Cyril prodded, obviously trying to help in his own way of helping Katie figure this out on his own.
"I guess." Katie mumbled, interrupted by a flash of lightning, paired with a loud clap of thunder that drummed through Katie's entire body.
His face went paler, eyes withdrawn and wide with fear, the memory three years ago resurfacing with his parents falling to the ground, bullet wounds in their heads.
"C'mon, let's go back inside." Cyril took Katie's hand and drug him inside, back into their shared apartment. Cyril's dad had given them their own space after Katie's parents died, given he didn't want Katie in his own house, but he didn't want to leave him out to fend for himself either, so this was the best option he could think of given the circumstances.
Even if it did leave a currently eleven and eight year old living somewhat on their own.
Cyril helped Katie undress down to his last layer, leaving the bathroom so he could finish changing himself, re-entering when they were both in their pajamas.
Katie was still staring at the mirror, clearly going through some sort of existential crisis, even at the age of eight.
"Can I help you with anything?" Cyril asked, not quite knowing what it was Katie needed at the moment.
"Cut my hair?" Katie asked suddenly, feeling as though he were swimming in the waist long wavy black hair which he normally kept braided.
Cyril didn't hesitate, or ask any questions, merely grabbed some sizzors, hammering away at the annoying locks.
After some debating, and minor arguing, Cyril ended up giving Katie a mixture of a mullet and wolf cut, the two compromising between a shaved head and leaving it a bit longer.
"Well what do you think Kade?" Cyril asked when the haircut was all said and done.
Kade's mouth formed a small o, turning to look at Cyril to pry his eyes away from the mirror.
Part of him finally felt free.
"You're not mad at me for my hair?" Kade couldn't help but ask, feeling a bit self conscious that Cyril would see him differently than before.
"No. Not at all. Hair grows back if you ever choose to change it again, besides, if this is what actually makes you comfortable, then I like it." Cyril said firmly, turning to leave the bathroom.
"Now could you try to sleep at some point? Or at least try?"
Kade nodded, letting the drowsiness settle in finally as his adrenaline plummeted, sending himself into a deep sleep curled up on the foot of Cyril's bed because he didn't want to be alone with the thunderstorms.
-
McClain