Chapter 1: first mission
It was the rays of the sun falling through the dirty window that woke him up. At first he didn't move his body, only his chest rose and fell with the rhythm. When he opened his eyelids, he felt the burning pain caused by the brightness. Immediately he held his right hand protectively in front of his face and gave a low growl. It took a few seconds, but then he got used to the daylight. With an effort he threw back the covers and exposed his bare torso. He stayed in his current position and tiredly ran his hand through his tousled hair.
First he put one foot on the hard parquet floor, then the second followed. With a jerk he had raised his upper body and was propping himself up on the bed. Sighing, he got up completely and first stretched his tired limbs.
He wasn't used to nights like this. With these thoughts in mind, he shuffled into the bathroom, which was at the end of the next corridor. He stepped through the door frame and turned on the light switch as he passed. At first it was a flicker, but then the lamp glowed and lit up the small room he used as a bathroom. He propped himself up with both hands on the cold edge of the porcelain washbasin and only hesitantly dared to look into the mirror in front of him. With the fingertips of his right hand, he carefully ran along the scar that ran across his torso. He had many small scars that had earned him the constant assignments of his work. But this was by far the largest.
He straightened up a little and put his right hand to his stiffened neck. It was his first day off in a long time, but he didn't know what to do with it - his work was everything to him.
Suddenly the answering machine went on, which was on a small box next to the bed. It was the familiar voice that brought him out of the depths of his ignorance. "An assignment, tonight. A new puppet has appeared." It was a cold female voice that presented him with the necessary information. "I know today is your day off, but the boss is relying on you to accept the assignment." Then the actual monologue was over.
The corners of his mouth had already drawn up at the first word from the speaker and formed a cold smile. The rest was superfluous. The main thing is that he wasn't stuck here, trapped in the empty life that he actually led.
As he stood looking at his reflection in the mirror, soft footsteps appeared behind him. They were fast, but quiet, and if the floor didn't give in under the person's weight and make a creaking noise, it would hardly have been heard. But he didn't move. Two slender arms emerged from the background, wrapped around his well-trained body.The face of a female person was reflected in the mirror. He knew this face, but neither the name nor the reason for the person's stay. She was just one of many for him, but that's what he was made for. He met her needs and she didn't ask questions for it, that's the way it was.

She heard laughter. That resounding laugh that was so eerie to her that every time she repeated it in her mind a shiver ran down her spine and yet it was pleasant in a way she was unfamiliar with. The hot water ran down her naked body and made it relax more and more. It was still a nightmare to her. Last night's events seemed so unreal, as if it were a product of her sick imagination. However, you had to realize that all of this had happened. Her gaze slid to her wrists. Since that night she had strange star-shaped scars. More of these were spread over her entire body. Legs, neck, heart, stomach, even on the back there were these strange signs. She still had no idea of ​​its functions, but she suspected that it could not be anything good. She had never heard of the white-haired man to whom she owed her life.
Absently she turned off the water and stayed in that position. Her eyes fixed on the tile in front of her, but she didn't notice it. It was the thoughts that tormented her and dominated her everyday life. She couldn't think clearly. With one movement she turned on her own axis and stepped out of the shower. Her left hand grabbed the soft towel that had been prepared on a hook. She wrapped it around her wet body and brushed back the damp strands so that they couldn't bother them until they were dry. With careful steps she moved forward until she reached the wall mirror. With the palm of her hand she wiped the smooth surface and cleared the tarnished vision. The second she finished her movement, her gaze widened and she immediately, reflexively, took two steps backwards, but she bumped into someone.
It was the man to whom she owed so much. She sold him her soul to be able to go on living, but she paid a high price for it. Again she realized that this was all a reality and not a product of her imagination. Seeming to appear out of nowhere, he was now standing behind her, a wide, cold grin forming his lips. The cold eyes had fixed her pale face in the reflection.
"Hello, Hana.", She held her breath for a second when his hot breath brushed her ear. She felt as if her heart was skipping, but she stood still. She wanted to answer him, to counter something, but her throat seemed to be constricted. Immediately her eyes wandered down, because there the man behind her held his hand to her neck, his fingers wrapped around the area.It wasn't firm so she could still breathe. As if grasping something invisible, he pulled his hand away a little. It looked like he was holding something between his fingers.
Pain ran through her entire body. Immediately she narrowed her eyes and tried to free herself, but he didn't touch her. When she realized this fact, her eyelids lifted. She wanted to know what was happening to her that he had such power over her, her body. It took a few seconds, which seemed to pass like minutes, before she heard the rattle of chains. A soft laugh left his mouth. He raised the hand in which he was holding the invisible object and held it in front of her face. The brown-haired woman didn't know how, but it materialized right in front of her. They were chains, chains held in pitch black. It seemed to spring straight out of her neck, surrounded by that star-shaped scar. He held it between his long fingers. It was enough if he moved his wrist a little and thus exerted tension on the spot, this stabbing pain arose again, which made her body twitch.

"These chains serve as a symbol that you are my slave who will only obey me. Your soul belongs to me, for saving your miserable life from death." It was a low whisper from him, but she could hear every single word. "See it as a kind of leash. If you are disobedient, then ..." the white-haired man didn't say any further. Instead, he yanked his entire arm down. It felt like someone was stabbing her with a knife. It felt cruel and she had no power. She was now painfully aware of this. Her hands immediately rushed to the sink and clung to it so that she wouldn't threaten to fall against it. Panting, she tried to find a secure hold, which she didn't really want to succeed.
"Don't forget, I'm able to do anything with you.", The tone of his cold voice had changed to arrogant. In response, that she understood, Hana only gave a short nod. Suddenly he let go of the chains, which disappeared again when the contact was broken with his palm as if they had never been there. All that remained was the pain, but this too slowly subsided.
Shiro moved away from her, left the bathroom and entered her bedroom, which was directly connected to the washroom. With interested eyes he looked at the lovingly furnished room that belonged only to her. He didn't turn around, didn't look at his pawn, why should he? First he had to test her powers. He snapped his right hand. The resulting friction formed black shadows that formed a white letter. He threw this meaninglessly on the made bed before he disappeared himself after another flick.

Slowly the grip on the porcelain weakened, the pain disappeared until she could no longer feel it.Only now did she manage to exhale. Again mistress of her body, she jerked around and looked around. Without hesitation, she ran out of the bathroom, straight to her bed. Her eyes caught the white letter. Immediately she took it in her hands and opened the envelope. With trembling hands she took out the actual contents and began reading along with her lips, line by line. After she had finished the letter, she lowered her hand in horror. The sheet of paper slipped through her fingers and landed gently on the carpeted floor. Her attention was drawn to a large box with her name on it in italics.

In the meantime night had come. The moon displaced the sun, leaving shadow and darkness to lead. Immediately everything was bathed in an ominous black. Even the faint street lights couldn't do anything about it. Their yellowish light was far too weak.
With shaky fingers she stroked the fabric of her new outfit, given by her client. Her feet were on the highest point of a house, near the abyss a meter deep. But that couldn't deter them. It was more the cold that bothered her body. Her body was covered by a black dress that reached to the knee. Over it she wore a white Haori with pale pink, embroidered cherry blossoms at the end, which was made from the most expensive material. She had tied her long, brown hair so that it would not be an obstacle or disruption to her project. The fresh air at this altitude burned her throat, but she had no choice, there was no turning back. She leaned down a little and straightened her boots. As she straightened up, she put a hand on any object that would take many lives in the future. Carefully she ran her fingers over the elegant handle of the weapon. It was a katana.
When she freed the blade from its sheath, it reflected the silver light of the round full moon that was in front of her and tried to impress her with its size and light. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In her she felt this driving, alien force. The strength