You looked up at the Baba Yaga as she finished up the chapter. The fact that she was real is still baffling, but most of that shock has worn off by now.
"That was quite an exciting opening – wasn't it – dear traveler?" The witch smiled, a warm expression with a shadow of excitement. "Guns, explosions, and a fight to the death in a single chapter. That set expectations pretty high for what's to come."
"But you noticed that some things don't quite add up, right?" The Russian continued. "After all, how could the twin sister of a Japanese idol be the adoptive daughter of a Soviet assassin?"
"Worry not," She flipped to the next page. "That will be explained in due time. A good story doesn't immediately put all the cards on the table. That will ruin the mystery of it all."
"Unraveling the mystery is half the fun of reading," The woman light-heartedly declared. "So, let's continue – dear traveler – and see where it all begins."
[... .... .- -.. --- .-- / --- ..-. / .- -. / .. -.. --- .-.. ---... / .-.. . .- ...- .. -. --. / - .... . / .-.. .. ..-. . / -.-- --- ..- / -.- -. . .--]
2002
Osaka prefecture
Japan
4:13 PM
In an apartment located in northern Osaka, a purple-haired woman stood in front of her kitchen counter. She hummed a tune as she sliced into an apple.
Upon making several more cuts, she set the knife aside and carefully stacked the pieces of fruit together to create a swan.
The mother of two deposited her handiwork onto a nearby plate, grabbing another apple to begin the process anew. When she set the fruit onto the cutting board, a door opened behind her. Her eldest daughter – Yoru – stepped out.
"Okaa-san." The girl called out to her mother – Ayumi Hoshino – before closing the door behind her. "Why we dress up?"
Ayumi turned her attention away from the apple she was cutting to look at her firstborn.
"Tashiro-san is coming over today." The violet-eyed woman responded.
'Ah. Mom new… boyfriend.' The six-year-old realized who it was after racking her brain for a couple of seconds. 'That why she cleaned house earlier.'
Yoru woke up to her mother vigorously scrubbing every surface of the house. Once Ai went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, Ayumi unceremoniously shoved many of the miscellaneous objects into the twins' shared bedroom.
'I no like him.' The girl shudders at the thought of the man. 'He look at Ai and me weird.'
Yoru looked back at her and her sister's room before returning her gaze to her mom once more. The closed door should keep her from hearing what was going to turn into another argument.
'I no want Ai hurt…' The child gathered all the courage in a breath. 'If I stop him from coming, then he no hurt her.'
"Okaa-san." Yoru called out to her mom. "I no want him here."
Ayumi puts down the fruit in her hands and looks at her daughter. She is not happy at the girl's words, but the child knows she can't stop now.
"Whether you want it or not." The woman tersely said. "He is going to come."
"He look Ai and me weird." Yoru stood her ground. Or, as much as a six-year-old could against an adult.
"You're being unreasonable." The eldest twin was very familiar with this tone of voice. Her mom uses this to make it seem like something was either her or Ai's fault, even when it wasn't.
"'He look Ai and me weird', what kind of reason is that?!" Ayumi mockingly parroted. "People look at each other all the time! Stop overreacting."
Yoru's face grew hot, and tears threatened to prickle from her eyes. But, she cannot back down. Not now. If her mother's boyfriend comes over now, then he will always come over.
If he always comes over… then the six-year-old doesn't know what will happen. She hates not knowing. It makes her feel stupid, and proves her mother right.
"No grown-up I know look us like that!" Yoru practically shouted. "Not Miyaki-sensei or Sakuma-san! Only your boyfriend! It not normal!"
"Just because you don't like him, THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN MAKE SHIT UP!" Ayumi has completely given up on being patient. Her eyes narrowed in rage at her daughter's almost weepy form.
"I not!!" The girl insisted as loudly as her little lungs could. "If you no believe me, maybe I go to Omawari-san!"
"Oh?" Her mother's voice became deathly calm for a moment. "You're going to talk to Omawari-san?"
"Y-yes." Yoru's gut screamed at her to get back. "I- I go talk to Omawari-san!"
Ayumi's left hand darted out and snatched up the eldest twin's face.
"Is that it?" There's a crazed look in the woman's eyes. "Do you think you're all that, that you're pretty enough for that?!"
The six-year-old's eyes widened. Whatever is clutching her face right now is not her mom. It's the monster that wears her mother's face as a second skin.
"How about I fix that for you?" Ayumi brought the small fruit knife closer to Yoru's face. "How about I make it so that you won't ever think you're good enough, pretty enough, for any man to want you like that, huh!?!"
Its violet eyes bore into the little girl's own. However, instead of cowering in fear, the child glared defiantly.
In an act of panic and anger, Yoru suddenly shifted her face.
"You fuck!" It yelled out when her teeth sank into the flesh on its hand. "Let go!"
Pain bloomed on her cheek when its right arm flailed out in response to the pain. But, the child refused to let go. If it had let go now, then-
A second, deeper spot of pain developed further down. Yoru unclenched her teeth and took two shaky steps back.
She looked down to see the plastic handle of the fruit knife sticking out of her belly. A circle of red spread from where the blade had stabbed into her.
"Oh… oh god…" The girl looked up toward the source of the voice.
"Y-Yoru…" It was not the monster who said her name, but her mother. "I… I…"
The woman had fallen to her knees, and her hands were shaking. Her eyes are trained on where she had stabbed the six-year-old.
"Hold on… I…" Ayumi stammered out as she tried to stand up. "I'll…"
No, the older twin realized it now. The monster was never there in the first place. Her mother and the monster are the same thing all along. It only took a knife in her belly to finally realize that fact.
Yoru needs to get out of here. She doesn't know where she needs to go, but she needs to be anywhere but here right now.
"Yoru!" Her mom cried out when the child turned around and bolted. "Wait!"
The girl ran toward the only comforting place in her home, the bedroom she and Ai shared.
She pushed open the door and slammed it behind her.
"Y- YORU-CHAN!" Her little sister screamed once she caught sight of her older sibling.
"Ai." Yoru gritted out as she fumbled with the door's lock. "Hide."
"Wh… what you do, Yoru-chan?" Ai, ever the worrier, asked.
"Go out." She answered as blood dribbled down onto the floor. "Okaa-san is monster. I no want be here."
Yoru hobbled toward the room's windows and reached for the glass aperture's lock.
*Click clack click click*
*Bam Bam*
"YORU!" Ayumi pounded on the wooden door after she had failed to open it. "YORU! PLEASE!! I'M SORRY! PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR!"
The girl paid no mind to the woman's words. Her mom wasn't sorry, she never was. If the child opened the door, then all that would come is punishment.
Yoru undid the lock and pushed the glass as high as it could go. She smiled as the late spring breeze hit her. That is the feeling of freedom, of a place that is better than her home.
The six-year-old tossed one leg over the window frame and quickly did the same for the other. She looked down at the alley down below. It's a long way to the bottom, but it is a short way to salvation.
Yoru pushed herself off the ledge, and high-speed winds whipped across her face. It was liberating, it was relieving, and-
*THUD*
'Ah.' The child thought as she looked up at the sky. 'I wrong.'
'It hurt…' Her breaths became more labored as more blood poured out of her wounds. 'It hurt… so bad.'
It wasn't freedom that greeted her, but the cold – hard – concrete. Whatever had spurred her to jump out of the fourth story window is gone now. All that's left is a deep sense of regret.
But she isn't regretting that her impulsiveness had led her to her death. No, she's regretting that her actions will leave Ai all alone now.
They were identical twins – two halves of a whole – never meant to be separated. They shared everything they had. Their meager belongings, their wants, and their dreams. But now, it looks like Ai will be the one left to experience everything by her lonesome.
'Ai…' It took everything left in Yoru to lift her right arm toward the window she fell out of. 'I sorry… please… forgive your stupid nee-san.'
Her arm was raised to the sky like Tantalus reaching for fruit he will never be able to touch. A desperate and meaningless attempt at trying to take something now forever unreachable into her hands.
Before long, her strength ran out. The limb went limp, falling into the blood pooled around her. A sensation of cold took hold of her body as darkness encroached on the edges of her vision.
The girl is going to die. She doesn't want to die, but – unless the divine decides to intervene – she will. Such is the fate of those who aren't meant to exist. Those one in two-hundred-fifty souls whose existences are cosmic glitches. Those whose lives are snuffed out early to keep the gears of the universe spinning.
The vast, vast majority of those unfortunate souls are mercifully killed off before they're conscious. To have not corrected little Yoru's existence for so long is an act of negligence. To correct her existence in such a violent way is an act of cruelty.
She is six, already a child conscious of the world around her. The ripples she created in the fabric of the universe cannot be undone and ripping her out now will do more harm than good.
'No, no. This cannot do.' I thought to myself at the time. I may now be known as a cannibal witch, but I am and always will be a guide to those less fortunate.
I have helped Vasalisa get away from her wicked stepfamily, I have guided Ivan to save his wife, and I have taught Melina everything she needed to become strong. I refuse to let a little girl die like this because someone with more crow feathers than sense forgot to do their job.
So – with the limited amount of power I have outside of Russia – I sent forth a soul to help little Yoru in her time of need. The man who shares my name, John Wick.
[... .... .- -.. --- .-- / --- ..-. / .- -. / .. -.. --- .-.. ---... / .-.. . .- ...- .. -. --. / - .... . / .-.. .. ..-. . / -.-- --- ..- / -.- -. . .--]
The streets of Osaka
*Tap tap tap tap*
John bolted across the twisting alleyways of Osaka as fast as he could. When the hitman took a side path to the Osaka Continental after completing a contract, the last thing he expected to see was a child lying in a pool of blood.
He glanced down at the unconscious girl in his arms. If it wasn't for the copious amount of blood that coated her body, she would appear to be sleeping peacefully.
He pursed his lips and deftly rounded a corner. The Soviet may be a contract killer, but even he doesn't want children to suffer the cruelty of the world. If there is even a one in a thousand chance the girl could be saved, he will take it.
Eventually, John turned into another alleyway and stopped at a familiar door.
"DOC!" He shouted as he kicked the door, not daring to remove his hand from the child's abdomen for even a second. "DOC! OPEN UP!"
The blinds of the steel doors opened to reveal a pair of eyes. The brown orbs looked the hitman up and down, widening when they saw the bloodied child in the assassin's arms. The blinds quickly slammed shut and the mechanical sound of undoing locks soon followed.
"Mr. Wick." A brown-haired woman in a lab coat opened the door. "Come in."
The veteran quickly stepped inside at her invitation. The doctor shut the door behind him as he briskly walked toward an empty operating table. John gently set the unconscious girl down and the surgeon hastily rummaged through a nearby fridge.
"What are her chances?" The former Marine asked.
"I have no clue." The woman brought out several blood and IV bags from the cold storage. "The amount of blood obscured the extent of her injuries too much for me to tell.."
She rapidly made her way toward a spare IV pole and hung the fluids on it.
"But, I will do what I can," Miyaki affirmed as she pushed the steel hanger next to the hitman. "Keep putting pressure on her wounds while I set things up. I can't promise you results, but I will promise that I will try my best."
John nodded at the surgeon's words. A doctor's promise is the heaviest vow of them all. The fact that she swore to do everything she could is enough for him.
[... .... .- -.. --- .-- / --- ..-. / .- -. / .. -.. --- .-.. ---... / .-.. . .- ...- .. -. --. / - .... . / .-.. .. ..-. . / -.-- --- ..- / -.- -. . .--]
Several hours later
9:39 PM
"Mr. Wick," Miyaki called out to him. "She's currently stable."
The assassin looked over to see the woman peel a pair of dirtied latex gloves off her hands.
"She's unconscious." The black market physician rolled up the disposable hand coverings and tossed them into a nearby trash can. "And she should be awake in a couple of weeks."
"How were her wounds?" John inquired.
"Her broken bones are in casts." Miyaki slouched down on a nearby chair. "Her laceration wounds will scar, and she'll need physical therapy to walk again."
"But," The surgeon put her left hand over her eyes. "She'll recover."
"Thank you, doc." The hitman appreciatively said.
"...Don't mention it." The doctor fought back a yawn. "I just… need to close my eyes for a second."
John nodded at her words. She deserves the rest. Seven hours have passed since he brought the child in, and Miyaki hasn't taken one break during the entire operation.
The Soviet stood up from his chair and moved toward where he hung his coat.
"You're just going to leave?" The physician called out to him before he could remove his jacket from the hanger.
"What more is there for me to do?" The veteran inquired. "The kid is alright now."
"You're the one who brought her into my clinic." The woman pointed out. "You can't just leave her here with me, Mr. Wick. At least bring her to an orphanage, or try to find her parents."
Her parents… That had completely slipped his mind.
"Though… There is a real chance her parents are the ones who did this to her." The assassin turned his head toward the doctor.
"A sharp fruit knife is the most likely culprit, considering what I've seen." Miyaki continued. "The entry profile was too wide for it to be a switchblade and suggests that whatever stabbed her was single-edged. A lack of bruising in the areas surrounding the stab wound also points to a blade without a crossguard."
The hitman's hand balled into a fist. Brutalizing a child to this extent is already horrible, but to do something so horrific to your own flesh and blood?
"What do you want me to do?" John took a deep breath and unfurled his fist. Getting angry now would do nothing.
"That's for you to figure out." The doctor removed her hand from her face and looked at him. "I can't keep her here. I have a business to run and a hospital is no place for a child. You decided to not leave her to die, now you have to decide what to do with her."
[... .... .- -.. --- .-- / --- ..-. / .- -. / .. -.. --- .-.. ---... / .-.. . .- ...- .. -. --. / - .... . / .-.. .. ..-. . / -.-- --- ..- / -.- -. . .--]
Osaka Continental
*Deet deet deet*
Koji Shimazu halted his pen in its tracks when his personal phone rang. The manager of the Osaka continental carefully lifted his writing utensil off the paper and let it sit beside the stack of forms he was given.
He pulled the Blackberry out of his robes and his brows raised at the caller's ID.
"John." The Shimazu patriarch greeted upon pressing his device to his ear.
"Koji." The hitman returned the greeting.
"How have you been?" Koji asked.
"Fine." The yakuza head nodded at his friend's simple answer. For as long as they've known each other, the Soviet had been a man of few words.
"What made you call today, my friend?" The manager inquired.
"I need advice," John replied.
"Speak, my friend. Tell me what happened." Koji's suspicions were correct. Something had happened.
"I found a child in an alleyway this morning." The assassin began.
"Is she alright?" The Continental administrator's face grew solemn at the implications.
"She's stable now." The yakuza boss let out a quiet breath of relief at the Soviet's answer. "She's unconscious, but the doctor says she'll heal."
"That's good to hear." Koji nods. "So, what is the problem?"
"The doctor told me she can't let the kid stay after she's healed," John stated. "So, I can either return her to her family or leave her at an orphanage."
"But, she also told me that she suspects her injuries were caused by her parents." John continued, and the manager's brows furrowed. "And I mean no disrespect, Koji, but I don't trust orphanages."
"None taken, my friend." Given the hitman's early childhood, his mistrust of those institutions wasn't surprising.
"I don't know what to do." The veteran has clearly agonized over this question for a long time now. "I can't see myself picking either option."
Koji stayed silent for a bit as he mulled over his friend's conundrum. John is forced to choose between returning the girl to the home of her abusers or giving her to a system he doesn't trust.
But, are those his only two options? Perhaps if he thinks about other potential options then-
'Ah,' The manager's brows perked up when it hit him. Why didn't he think of that earlier? It both guarantees her safety, and does it in a way the assassin can trust.
"Why can't you take her in?" Koji inquired.
Silence dominated the line for a couple of seconds.
"Koji, why would you suggest something like that?" John asked in disbelief.
"You can't send her back to her parents, and you don't believe Osaka's orphanages can keep her safe." The yakuza patriarch matter-of-factly replied. "So, what other option is there?"
"Koji, I'm an assassin." As expected, the hitman wasn't very receptive to the idea. For all the confidence he had in his ability to kill, the Soviet had little faith in his ability to protect.
"So was Caine, and so was I." The hotel administrator retorted. "But did that stop us from raising our daughters?"
John stayed quiet that time.
"But, I suppose we're getting ahead of ourselves." Koji leaned back into his chair. "How long can you stay in Japan, John?"
"For as long as I need to," John replied. "Viggo knows."
"You have plenty of time to think it over." The yakuza head remarked. "Get to know the girl for a bit and maybe you'll change your mind. But – do keep in mind – John, she may not want to come with you."
"Yeah, I understand." The manager can hear his friend nodding on the other side of the line. "Thank you Koji."
"Anytime, my friend," Koji said with a smile as John hung up the phone.
The mob boss set down his Blackberry and looked upon the stacks of paperwork that needed to be done by the end of the day. He cracked his neck and picked up his pen.
As a friend or as the Osaka Continental's caretaker, his job is never done.
[... .... .- -.. --- .-- / --- ..-. / .- -. / .. -.. --- .-.. ---... / .-.. . .- ...- .. -. --. / - .... . / .-.. .. ..-. . / -.-- --- ..- / -.- -. . .--]
Miyaki's clinic
Several weeks later
12:03 PM
"Hmmgh…" Yoru groaned, her eyelids flickering as she slowly roused from her torpor.
'What happen?' Her mind felt scrambled. A fog of static blocked her every attempt to think back to what happened. Worse yet, there's a dull thrum assailing the back of her head.
The child blinked several times to clear her vision. However, her stomach dropped when the haze obscuring her sight fully dissipated. The girl doesn't know where she is.
The walls – 'Curtains.' Yoru realized upon further scrutiny – it was an unfamiliar green. The bed she's lying on felt too soft to be the one she and Ai shared.
The six-year-old slowly sat up, shoving off the thin quilt covering her as she looked around her.
A metal rack stood at attention to her right and a half-empty IV bag hung from. A thin tube ran from the receptacle to a needle inserted in her right hand. The child's first instinct is to pull it out, but she's afraid that doing so will hurt.
To her left, there's a wooden drawer and a dark blue tank with O-2 written on its side. There's a clear plastic tube connected to the container. Yoru traced the thin pipe with her eyes, and eventually, it led to her head.
The child felt around her mouth and her fingertips touched cold rubber. That explains the pressure on her upper lip. There's a tube running into her nostrils.
The girl pulled the slim pipe from her nose and tossed it over the side of the bed.
*Beep*
Yoru whirled around at the sound of a sharp beep. The stand next to her crashed to the ground, and a burning sensation bloomed from her right hand.
She looked down at the limb. A trail of blood dripped down her digits and bloodied the bedsheets. The girl clutched the injured limb, hissing in pain as she unsuccessfully attempted to stop the bleeding.
The child looked over to the side of the strange bed she's in. Her sudden movement knocked over the hanger and burst open the IV bag. Liquid pooled from the broken bag, spreading clear saline across the red tiled floor.
*Skrr*
The curtain to her left suddenly parted. Yoru jolted in surprise and slowly turned around.
It was a man who parted the drapes. The child gazed upon his face and immediately realized that he's a foreigner.
She pressed her hurt hand close to her chest and attempted to put as much distance as she could from him. However, she overestimated just how wide the bed was.
Yoru's eyes widened as her body began to tip over. But before she could completely fall from her bed, a pair of hands caught her by her shoulders.
"Are you alright?" The foreigner asked in heavily accented Japanese.
He's extremely close to her now, closer than she would like. Strangely, she doesn't feel as suffocated as she thought she would.
The girl looked into the man's eyes. They were so unlike her mother's. Instead of being purple and angry, brown orbs filled with nothing but concern stared back at her.
The child hesitantly nodded. The bearded-foreigner's shoulders relaxed and gently pulled her away from the edge.
The man leaned back and looked at her right hand. Some of the blood had dribbled down into the sleeves of Yoru's gown.
"Can I see that?" He motioned toward the bleeding limb.
The six-year-old stared at him for a couple of seconds before she presented her right hand to him. The foreigner opened the drawer near her bed and pulled out a roll of white bandages.
He tore the package open before unraveling the spool of cloth. The man then gently wrapped up her hurt limb.
"Did…" Yoru pulled her hand away once he finished tending to her wound. "Did you bring me here?"
The foreigner nodded. He's either staying quiet because he doesn't know Japanese well, or he's just a naturally quiet person.
"Why?" The girl couldn't help but ask.
"No child deserves to die like that." The man answers.
The six-year-old pursed her lips and broke eye contact. She knows she should feel grateful, but she doesn't. Unlike all of the other adults she's met, Yoru couldn't feel anything from this man. She couldn't help but question his intentions.
"Hey." The foreigner caught the child's attention before her thoughts could spiral any further. "What's your name?"
"Hoshino." Yoru replied. "Hoshino Yoru."
"That's a nice name." The man nodded. "My name is J- Wick, Wick John."
The girl nodded. John sounds like an American name, but the man in front of her seemed so different from the Americans she sees in anime.
"Can you wait until I call the doctor?" John inquired.
Yoru nodded once more, and the suit-wearing foreigner stepped out of her "room". He closed the curtains behind himself, leaving the child by her lonesome.
As his footsteps faded, the girl looked at her bandaged hand. She gingerly touched where the wound would be before wincing and quickly pulling back her fingers. A red spot appeared on the layers of cloth as the injury began to bleed once more.
Yoru carefully rested her hurt limb on her thighs. The six-year-old looked out the window and quickly noted the position of the sun.
How long has she been out for? She remembered the sun being much higher in the sky than it is now. Is Ai okay? Hopefully, her sister had taken her advice and avoided the worst of her mother's anger.
Her mother…
Yoru's eyes widened as the memories of what happened suddenly rushed in. Her mom… Her mom tried to kill her.
The child slowly brought her hand to her right cheek. The wound is no longer there, but the phantom pain of the injury came back with full force. She gasped and harshly yanked her hand away.
The girl stared at her bandaged fingertips for a couple of moments before her eyes suddenly widened at a realization. Ai is still at home.
She needs to get back there, now! She can't leave her twin sister alone with her mom and that boyfriend of hers. Her legs are surely good enough to run back, right?
Yoru swung her legs off the side of the bed and dropped down. However, she rapidly collapsed onto her knees.
The six-year-old winced. Her supporting limbs had grown weak from weeks of disuse. If she couldn't walk, then she would crawl. So long as she's moving toward her house, then the girl doesn't care.
But the curtains in front of her parted before Yoru could attempt to make her way out of the clinic.
"Yoru-chan, what are you doing?" A familiar voice called out to her.
"Sensei?" The child looked up in surprise. Her elementary-school teacher is standing in front of her with a white lab coat.
The woman grabbed the six-year-old by her armpits and hoisted her onto the bed.
Miyaki then shot a look at John. The man nodded as if he received a secret message and took a step back.
"Yoru-chan." The doctor began softly rubbing Yoru's shoulder. "Can you tell me what you were doing?"
"I…" The girl flattered, but her teacher's smile quickly reassured her. "I need to go back home."
"You need to stay here." Miyaki gently ordered. "Your booboos aren't well yet."
"But I need to, sensei!" The child insisted. "Ai is at home! I need to go back!"
"Why?" The physician simply asked.
"Because… because…" Yoru stammered. "Because I don't know if Okaa-san hurt Ai and… Okaa-san's boyfriend look us weird."
"Weird? How?" Miyaki's smile wavered for a moment.
"I don't know." The girl quietly admitted. "I feel weird when he look me. I don't feel like that when sensei or any other grown-up look me."
"I… maybe I wrong." The six-year-old looks away from her teacher. "Maybe Okaa-san right. Maybe I just make thing up and im- imagining. Sensei, c-"
"Are you thirsty Yoru-chan?" The woman delicately interrupts her. "You've been sleeping for a very long time."
"I…" Yoru opens her mouth, only to realize how dry her tongue was. "Yes. I want water, Sensei."
"Wait here, Yoru-chan." Miyaki stepped away from the hospital bed.
She walked away and tapped John on the shoulder. Having understood what she meant, the hitman followed her. Once the doctor stepped outside of the curtains, she turned around to flash one last smile at the six-year-old.
The blinds then closed with a rapid series of clicks, leaving the little girl by her lonesome once more.
[... .... .- -.. --- .-- / --- ..-. / .- -. / .. -.. --- .-.. ---... / .-.. . .- ...- .. -. --. / - .... . / .-.. .. ..-. . / -.-- --- ..- / -.- -. . .--]
"You have some questions, Mr. Wick," Miyaki stated when the two were out of earshot. "Ask."
"How does she know you?" That was an unsurprising first question. The doctor had treated Yoru like they were strangers, only to do a complete one-eighty when she woke up.
"I work as a school teacher during the day." The black-market physician replied. "Ever wondered why my clinic only opens at three-thirty on weekdays?"
The assassin nods in understanding. Although Miyaki treats those linked to the underworld, she herself isn't affiliated with the Continental. Having a day job makes hiding her more illicit work infinitely easier.
"If I hadn't known Yoru-chan, I would have just declared her a lost cause." The teacher admitted. "It's honestly a miracle she managed to bounce back from her injuries. The amount of blood she lost would be enough to kill most men."
"Then why did you pretend to not know her?" John inquired. That part didn't make sense no matter how he tried to rationalize it.
"I like to keep my day and night jobs seperate." Miyaki responded. "The mindset of a teacher is very different from a doctor's, Mr. Wick. I would do both of my jobs poorly if I couldn't compartmentalize."
After that, neither of them talked. The only sounds present were the tapping of their footsteps echoing through the hallway.
"Did you know?" John broke the silence once they reached the kitchen.
"I had my suspicions," Miyaki admitted, catching on to his vague words. "But, I didn't have enough hard evidence to do anything about it. You know what the cops are like in Osaka."
The hitman nodded, accepting her answer. Unless guilt can be proven without a shadow of a doubt, the police in Japan rarely take action. Proving abuse and negligence is already difficult enough, but actually taking any substantial action is even trickier.
The doctor fetched a glass from one of the cupboards and filled it with water.
"Come on, let's head back." The teacher said upon shutting the faucet. "I'll call for some takeout later for all three of us. It's almost lunchtime, and Yoru's probably starving."
[... .... .- -.. --- .-- / --- ..-. / .- -. / .. -.. --- .-.. ---... / .-.. . .- ...- .. -. --. / - .... . / .-.. .. ..-. . / -.-- --- ..- / -.- -. . .--]
Several more weeks later
"Alright." Miyaki set down her pen once she filled out the last empty box on her paper. "You're free to go."
The doctor folded up the form and held it out for John. The hitman accepted the document and stowed it away in his jacket pocket.
"Come on." The Soviet stood from his seat. "Let's go, Yoru."
Yoru looked up at John with a stuffed wolf plush and nodded. The assassin began making his way out of the clinic, but the girl didn't follow him. She still had one thing she needed to do.
"Bye sensei." The child waved goodbye to her teacher.
The woman shook her head as if to say, "I'm not your sensei right now", but Yoru didn't care. The weeks the girl spent with the doctor and John were the happiest she's ever been.
Trust is a hard thing for Yoru to give, but the six-year-old can confidently say that Miyaki-sensei is an adult she can trust.
But, goodbyes can't last forever. So the child let her hand drop and gazed upon the retreating back of John. The man – no, her savior – was almost at the door.
So, Yoru moved. Slowly at first, but her walk gradually transformed into a brisk jog to catch up with the hitman. Once she's beside him, the child slipped her hand into his.
John looked down at her in surprise, but made no moves to dissuade her. Thus, this chapter of Yoru's life ended with her walking hand-in-hand with the greatest assassin in the world.
May the girl's future be better to her than her past ever was.