Four girls walk into a dark room. A single bare bulb illuminates the space—empty save for a round wooden table set with four chairs. Two girls, one blonde and one with silver hair, speak in rapid-fire Russian.
"Damn. That was way more trouble than it was worth."
"She who doesn't take risks doesn't drink champagne."
"Still."
"What are you two complaining about?" A third girl interrupts their conversation in Japanese.
"Nothing, nothing."
"Well suck it up, it's payday."
"That's what I like to hear." The blonde one pulls out a chair and kicks her boots up on the table.
"What did she just say?"
"She says to show her the money," Silver replies courteously.
The Japanese girl throws a large envelope onto the table and takes out a smaller envelope before tucking it into her breast pocket. "For me."
「Deadeye Hanabi」- Intranational Assassin. A short girl of pure Japanese descent. She's older than she looks. Much older. Between her appearance and her profession, no one would guess that someone like her would have a child. But she does, and she has to put food on the table somehow.
"For you, Kokoro."
"Thank you." A pink-haired girl squeaks out a reply before retreating back into silence. She's so focused on retreating that she almost forgets to take her cut of the money.
「Nine-Lives Kokoro」- Intranational Assassin. A magical girl who is, surprisingly enough, about as old as she looks. She's forgotten to detransform so she's still clad in a frilly pink dress. In spite of her cutesy appearance, Hanabi's seen how cold she can be. She's more cruel than she knows. The fact that she's killing at her age already is a sign of that.
"And for the both of you." Hanabi flicks the package to the two Russian girls.
The blonde one takes it in her hand, fishes around, and pulls out one envelope where there should be two. "What the hell is this shit?"
"We agreed that the shares would be on a contractual basis. You two operate as a pair so you only get one cut."
"You bitch!" Almost on instinct, the girl swaps back to Russian. Hanabi sneers. Typical amateurs. You can be as good at killing as you want, but what really separates the novice from the professionals is how you handle your shares. And these two just fell for the oldest trick in the book.
"She called you a bitch–"
"Not helpful, Iko!"
「Nikola Anatolyovna "Iko" Sokolova」- Intranational Assassin. A magical girl with long silver hair that reaches all the way down to her ankles. It stands in contrast to her black tracksuit and white sneakers. Her mother wanted a son but her father wanted another daughter. As a compromise, they promised that if the child was a son, he would have a girl's name and if the child was a daughter, she would have a boy's name.
「Klara Anatolyovna Volkova」- Intranational Assassin. A magical girl with short blonde hair. She wears slightly oversized Russian military fatigues complemented by a pair of black boots. She shares a father with Iko, but not a mother. She opted to inherit her mother's surname instead.
"G-guys, can we just not fight?" Kokoro tries in vain to defuse the situation but it's too late. The knives and guns come out. Klara presses a Bowie knife the length of her forearm against Hanabi's throat. But as she does, Hanabi quickdraws a monster of a revolver and shoves the muzzle against the underside of Klara's head.
"Go on." Klara clicks her tongue. "Take the shot."
"Don't think I won't."
"We really doing this? Right here? Right now?"
"We're really doing this. Right here. Right now."
The two glare at each other, eyes deadlocked in fierce combat, until finally, one of them breaks. Klara sighs.
"Fine." Klara sheathes the Bowie knife. "Keep the fuckin' money."
"That's what I thought." Hanabi mutters.
"The fuck you just say?!"
"Enough, Klara." Iko's voice is enough to make her flinch. "You can keep the share. I'll find the money for mama some other way."
"Iko…" Klara grimaces and begrudgingly stuffs the envelope into her pocket.
"...Thank goodness." Kokoro relaxes into her seat.
"Hmph. Now if there's nothing else, I'll be taking my leave." Hanabi smooths down her clothes and turns to exit. She had them pegged for amateurs but she didn't think they'd be this bad. If you're willing to just walk away empty-handed, what good of a hitman even are you?
She feels the others' stares bore holes into her back as she walks out the door.
"Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday, happy birthday…"
Hanabi sets down a modestly sized birthday cake with five candles on it in front of her son. "Happy birthday to you!"
"Yayyyyy!" The child claps his hands together happily as he goes to blow out the candles.
But Hanabi stops him. "Ah-ah-ah! Did you make a wish yet?"
"I wish mommy would stay home forever!"
"Oh, silly. You're not supposed to say your wish out loud." She rests her hand on his head.
"Oops." He giggles.
He has no idea how close she is to actually making his wish come true. Just one last job. One last big job and they're set for life. Food, water, power, gas, rent, college, retirement, everything. She just needs one last lucky break and then she can raise him right, just like a real mom.
The magic of the birthday party shared between mother and son lasts only a second longer before it's dispelled by the ringing of her phone. Not her burner phone, her personal phone. A grim omen.
"Just a moment, sweetheart. I have to take this."
"Okie dokie."
Hanabi walks into the kitchen where her son won't hear her and takes the call. "Who are you and how did you get this number?"
"Is this Deadeye Hanabi?"
"Just Hanabi. At my age, 'Deadeye' is more of an observation than a title."
"Regardless, I need your expertise on something important."
"Send over the details and I'll think about it." It's important to act unsure especially when you're already on board, it'll be live ammunition for when the payoff is discussed.
"I need a hit on Kasai Ryusei."
"Kasai Ryusei?"
"The Blackadder Lieutenant?"
"She's Blackadder's Head now, actually."
"Interesting… Tell me more."
"Hey, sweetie."
"Is mommy going away again?" Her son does not pout. He simply sinks back into his chair in that somber way children do when they're forced to grow up too quickly.
"Ahaha…" She laughs weakly. He's sharp just like his mom. Hanabi lowers herself down next to him and wraps him in a hug. "I need you to be strong for mommy, okay? It'll be just one last time, then mommy will never go away again."
"Really?" That gets his face to light up.
"Yep. Just one last time."
"You promise?"
"Pinky-promise."
"Yay." He wraps his arms around her neck and pats her on the head.
Hanabi laughs. They stay that way for a little while, just enjoying each others' warmth. But it can only last so long. At last, they break away.
"Bye-bye mama."
"Bye-bye." Hanabi continues feigning a smile until the door to her apartment closes. The instant it does, her face turns from a mother's to a hunter's.
The spirit realm, huh? How in the hell is she even supposed to even get there? She retreats into thought, running through a few possibilities in her head. She's about to phone a friend but the sound of near-silent footsteps walking toward her interrupts her thought process. She squints at the blurry figure at the end of the hallway. The first thing she notices is long silver hair. Iko. She's about to greet her when she notices what she has in her hands. A party popper.
Iko pulls the cord and there's a hollow, earth-shaking 'pop'. Hanabi falls to the ground. Mainly because there's nothing connecting her torso to her legs anymore. The world is a hazy blur. In the distance, she sees Iko throw the metal party popper away, it clangs mercilessly as it rolls on the ground. She walks up next to her body, and draws her gun.
"Wait. Please–"
Iko's arm barely moves an inch as she fires two shots into Hanabi's head. She pauses for a moment, letting the silence be the confirmation she's well and truly dead. Kneeling down next to the body, she places her hand on the still-beating heart and begins whispering a prayer in her native tongue.
"...Now and forever, enter unto the ages of ages. Amen."
After she's certain that the person that was Hanabi is no more, she continues with her business. First thing's first, she digs through Hanabi's coat and finds her share of today's job.
"For me." She riffles through the stack of cash. It's hard to believe that all this money is only enough to keep up her mother's treatment for another month.
Second thing's second, a trophy for herself. She reaches down to Hanabi's waist and fishes out her revolver. Colt Single-Action Army, customized with ivory grips, silver decals, and contoured to fit her hand perfectly. Lucky for her, it just so happens that Iko's hand measurements are pretty close to Hanabi's. She tucks it away under her belt.
"Mama! What was that sound?!"
A voice. A child. Coming from within. Third thing's third, she enters Hanabi's apartment to do some cleanup.