TO KILL IS TO SERVE

Chapter 24: The Day

“Say, Grei, do you still sleep?” Alora asked while poking my side. She’s been around me since I came, doing nothing but to annoy me. “Look at those baggy eyes!” She teased and I did not turn to look at her because I might unconsciously drop the charming guy act in a swift second. I cannot fail this deal now by raising suspicion for I have been making progresses already. A little f*****g progress is still better than none, you asshole self.

I got home by almost 1AM earlier today after rejecting Dad’s driver to drive me home. I don’t want to risk leaking my current place because even Dad’s driver is a hitman. However, after all the trouble I risked my neck on, I got home with no energy left as expected. I haven’t been resting well lately because I cannot completely go into a deep sleep when I’m not in my hideout. In spite of being an assassin I’m still young, after all so I still need enough rest for my future, if I ever have one.

My mind’s blabbering too much. I guess I’m really tired.

“Grei?” Alora called again. My head’s been thumping and my nape feels heavy. I should’ve just slept at home. I thought. I have been saying this to myself for a week of staying in this art workshop over and over but I haven’t done it at all. “Grei!” I cannot risk a day without making a move.

“Alora, please.” I sighed as I utter. Alora stopped her poking act and stayed quiet when she’s finally realized that I don’t feel well. It feels so uneasy that I cannot completely put my guard down, even now. This is the longest investigation I’ve done for seven years in service. I wonder why I agreed to investigate this little case for a month long when I can just assassinate Alora right now. I thought and gulped, rolling my eyeballs. Grei, check your f*****g assassin pride. I countered my thoughts right after with a faint groan. “Sorry, I just am too tired to deal with anything right—”

“Okay class, before we start our session, I’d like to call Alora here in front, first.” Miss Cherrie spoke as soon as she got inside the classroom. I lifted my head a bit and looked at Alora who’s shaking her lowered head. “Come here, honey.” She called again and Alora, with a defeated sigh and expression, stood up and headed to the front.

I sat down properly to watch. I wonder what’s up. I thought as I scan the room filled with uninterested people. Alora stood up in front and my vision caught Manasseh looking at her with so much fascination. “What day is today again?” I asked myself through whispering. If I were to know, I don’t think it would do me good, though. I believe I checked the data Info gave me but I didn’t pay much attention to small details.

Alora is wearing her usual style, aside from her shining earrings that I’ve never seen before; she’s still the common Alora—her watercolour smell, her heavy footsteps, her thick eyeglasses, her paint-stained shirt and her aloof personality inside the classroom. She’s only ever open whenever she’s with me and everything fades away every time we’re in this place. I wonder what’s up today. I held my chin as I think.

“Okay, let’s start singing her a birthday song!” Miss Cherrie cheered cheerfully and clapped once to signal us. It’s her birthday today, then? This is another cliché. I raised my right brow as I follow the instruction and sing with everyone.

Alora is acting all clingy today because it’s her birthday, I suppose. I just shrugged her off without knowing that and now I feel f*****g awkward. Should I go and buy her something as a—my mind went blank for a second and everyone stopped singing when we saw Alora tearing up. She’s been bullied for God knows how long and I’ve never seen her shed a tear in this classroom, but now she’s crying because of a song and that miserable look of hers is triggering my inner ex-son’s attitude.

“Why? What’s wrong, Alora?” Miss Cherrie asked and instead of answering her, Alora just dashed outside the classroom, probably heading to the comfort room. Almost everyone laughed and made fun of what happened. Manasseh stood up and went to Miss Cherrie to ask for permission to leave but those cunning eyes of Miss Cherrie weren’t looking at Manasseh, but me.

Oh f**k. I exhaled in irritation when I’ve realized that Miss Cherrie wants me to go after Alora instead of watching everything on my seat with arms crossed.

“Go do something for me, Grei.” She ordered as she ignores Manasseh. I feel that Miss Cherrie is not a common person who’s been around Alora for she’s been doing too much. How could she entrust her student to a newbie? She is definitely hiding something I don’t have any time to waste my effort to ask and investigate about. But maybe she’s just hopeless romantic.

I walked out of the classroom to head to the comfort room for my guts told me Alora’s there. I really did not want to involve myself to this for the last time I’ve seen a woman cry, I almost punched her. Pity doesn’t work on me anymore because life is f*****g my every sense.

I knocked at the door of the lady’s comfort room as soon as I’ve made sure that Alora’s inside—I can feel her like she’s a heavy air. “Alora?” I called and received no response. “Alora, what’s wrong?” I asked and composed myself to not curse for I’ve been f*****g ignored twice.

If I were to think thoroughly, I can more or less guess the reason she’s turned vulnerable on her birthday but my brain doesn’t f*****g cooperate as of the moment. I am extremely tired and exhausted that I admit it’s affecting my line of work. I used to function fully for a month without sleep if there’s nothing alongside investigating. But I just had to attend meetings, kill someone, run endlessly, protect my prey, show up in a tribute and dine with family of assassins. What is the godforsaken reason of these chained tiresome events while I’m in my Agent-graduating phase?

“Alora, kindly open the door or else I will f*****g break this down.” I grumbled while still knocking. I heard the clicking of unlocking doorknob right away and saw Alora walking out of the comfort room with a forced smile. “What’s up?”

“Happy birthday to me.” Her voice cracked as soon as she talked. “This is the day when we’ve found Hanie’s suicide note.” She mumbled in a low voice. “This day should not be celebrated as happy.”

I heaved a deep sigh and controlled my lips not to curve upward. My resolve got stronger that it has overthrown my tiredness. I can now feel my stomach rolling as it usually does every time I hear an update regarding my target, her victim and or her victim’s father, who could turn to be my target as well.

My previously inoperative brain suddenly worked when the events had registered into it.

Three days before her birthday last year, Hanie was found dead due to overdosing of pills and with a reason I still am not yet aware of—although Alora claim it was her. My target who was probably with her friend, Manasseh, celebrated her birthday in depression because of her another friend who just passed on. She is not an assassin or a psycho, so the misery and despair of losing someone because of a reason you claim to be you wouldn’t be gone so easily. In addition, that suicide letter would’ve contained something that made Alora cry as soon as she remembered it. She was perhaps trying to get my attention earlier to help her forget whatever has happened and I can say that she knew Manasseh wouldn’t be of any help, if anything, he would most likely trigger Alora’s agony if she indeed feel it. Now to think of it, maybe Alora doesn’t feel grief but pure guilt? I bit my lower lip as I assume. I want to ask about that letter but I would let her tell me herself to avoid doubt.

I am now all ecstatic after that deduction. I want to f*****g know everything right here, right now and end this to finally graduate.

Alora wiped her cheeks and exhaled a deep breath, and then she turned to me. “Do you believe that a person who doesn’t have a colour can still colour?” She suddenly asked and I smiled, nodding. I do not because that’s bullshit, but let us not give her a hard time as of the moment. I convinced myself while nodding at her.

“Alora, do you think the canvases can identify their own colours?” I asked and she walked past by me without answering right away. She has calmed down and has finally decided to go back to the class. I waited for a response until she shook her head before she enters the classroom. I stopped in front of the door and squeezed all the feelings mixing inside me as of the moment. “I believe so, too.” I uttered and entered the classroom. I bowed slightly at the grinning Miss Cherrie and turned to Alora, who’s now busy scribbling on her pad. For I will be the one who will identify your colors for you. I concluded as I glimpsed at her.

Happy birthday, Alora.