TO KILL IS TO SERVE

Chapter 1: The Trip

“Good morning, my lovely and obedient students! Today, let’s welcome your new dumb classmate who just enrolled in the mid-summer before proceeding to our next lesson.” What a terrible way to start the class. I sighed and rolled my eyes while watching the miss opens the first day of the class for a week. I really should have read first the data and information Info sent me before accepting the deal with Mister Park. I am embarrassing myself for enrolling into this art class in the middle of summer. “Okay, dearie, come on in.” The woman, who I supposed to be the main instructor, called me and I entered the room as told.

My eyes instantly spotted the vacant seat in the center of the second row of two semi-circle rows after a swift scan of the students’ faces. Lucky. I smirked and instantly switched my normal personality to my working one. In this scenario, for the whole month, acting all cute and adorable will be the best resort since I will be living as a 19-year old boy-next-door.  I contemplated a lot about this new identity that I thought of early this day, since I might stand out for being unique. But given the short time, I cannot afford to get bullied and receive extra work aside from investigating my target alone. I even wore and tried my new and unused disguise kits and gears from head to toe.  I am certain this will never fail me.  “Hi, I am dumb, thank you.” I started and the students, but not all, laughed. Some even commented about my face and attitude, mostly girls. What a standard way to get close to my currently gorgeous self. I beamed as I thought and slightly bowed my head. “My name is Grei Grazer and I don’t know anything about art, which is why I enrolled in this summer art class in the middle of this hot season, but I do something good, you can say that I’m actually a prodigy for I have been hearing that a lot.” I winked and breathed before I continue, “I don’t have any plans but to work hard, so don’t make anything harder for me.” I spoke naturally as I add excitement, wit and interaction in every word I utter. I’ve been working as an assassin for years, and if the environment and scene require, I had to change my whole personality and attitude to mix in. Acting like the a bubbly, carefree and charming guy might be one of the hardest—for it is a complete opposite of my temperamental, socially awkward and prudent innate personality, but nothing is truly hard for a professional.

All their whispers about how funny, good looking and friendly I am, is actually just like breathing for me now. I am accustomed with those words and I’m getting tired of hearing those already. It’s just too fake and too annoying to pay attention on. I thought with a beam pasted on my lips.

One of the regrets I have in accepting this deal is I will investigate my target with these people—the more people who get to be around me every day, the higher the risk of disclosing my real identity. I really should’ve checked the documents first. I thought, grunting mutely. What happened to my cautiousness, really?

“Humorous, I see.” The adviser smiled while casting an eye over me. “Okay, now sit wherever you want since you’re somewhat a VIP now.” She pointed the class and looked for the second time to meet my gazes, and then quickly turned the other way. Every girl literally pushed their guy seatmates out of their chairs to have me sitting beside them. “Oh! Seems like my dear students like you, Grei. Now pick your seat for us to start the class, Mister VIP.”

I chuckled at how the adviser named Cherrie tries her best to par with my wit as if she’s struggling so hard to impress me. How old is she? If I were to compute and consider things like posture, voice and facial lines, maybe she’s around 25. Well, I don’t want any distraction for this is an important kill. I thought and smiled at the woman.

“I’ll sit beside her.” I pointed the lady sitting at the last row and the seat beside her. The girls furrowed their brows as they turn to look the position I’m pointing at, and then they began convincing me to sit with them instead, again. “I feel bad for the guys that have been kicked out of their seats by their seatmates because of me. At least that girl doesn’t have a seatmate.” I looked at Miss Cherrie, “Or she does?”

“She did.” She answered and I nodded. Where is the seatmate now, then? I wanted to ask but I don’t want to damage the innocent, carefree boy façade I’ve built up.

“Okay, then.” I made my way towards the uninterested lady in the last row until a hand grasped my wrist before my fifth step. “Huh?” I reacted as if I did not anticipate her move. I’ve seen how she would execute her touchy-touchy moment even before I walk towards my assigned chair. “Is this some kind of shoujo manga?” I smiled and chuckled, with eyes squinting out of joke.

“Well, if you want, it could be.”

Foxy, sexy and well-off—this girl can even pay me for sitting beside her. But of course, the money I will get from this deal is incomparable to what little girls and their family’s small businesses could offer. “Sorry, I have a seatmate already.” I politely refused.

“Don’t sit with that loser, Grei. She’s a walking misfortune, breathing annoyance, seriously.” Her pretty little grip became tighter and I heard agreement from her classmates. But you’re the annoying one here. I glanced at that girl she just called bad luck and she doesn’t seem affected at all. She even uninterestedly rolled her eyes. “You can sit with me. I can throw Damian out any time.” She’s pertaining to that boy beside her, and he looked like a gangster—with ear-piercings, dragon tattoo around his neck, long hair tied using a rubber band, rings with spike and thug-like fashion sense. I think this Damian is somewhat a bully but gold-digger. He’s good with picking his boss and he’s already picking a fight with me by glares. Oh boy, I don’t have any plans to reveal myself even before I perform this job well. Kindly don’t stimulate me. I want to really, really start speaking my mind out sometimes.

I turned to the girl holding me and beamed, “I will be her lucky charm, then.” I winked at the busty woman and twisted my arm to get off of her grip. She scowled and crossed her arms before she sits down in vexation. The class started to come lively when it seemed like I just dumped a hot girl on my first day. I just did, indeed.

I sat down and wore my smile as I glimpsed at my new seatmate. Okay, just like how I anticipated. I thought right away by just a glance. She looked shy and a bit aloof. Her nostalgic watercolour smell made her appear like a professional artist with no taste. She seemed to have no friends and made fun of by her co-future artists. The class started as soon as things are settled.

Everything that Mister Park told me about her doesn’t match at all. I held my chin and placed my elbow on the arm-desk as I look at her. Although it makes sense, a client will never talk good about his target. She’s just busy scribbling on her notebook. What an art geek. I thought and faced upfront. I started scanning the art classroom and my classmates’ builds. There is no security camera inside this room but there is one outside, right at the hallway. The windows are made of glass and it’s easy to jump from second floor without dying. There are 16 people in this class—17 with Miss Cherrie—with 9 ladies and 6 jerks, excusing myself. I doubt that these boys are even interested in this class since I cannot see them taking the lesson seriously. You don’t need to be investigator to see if a person is good or full-time jerk. So, as for me and my wit, I see jerks not boys whenever art is involved and of course, I humbly exclude myself. As far as I’m concerned, there will be no threats for me in this classroom—none for now and most probably none in the future as well. I truly hope for I don’t want nuisances to ruin my debut kill.

I jokingly visualized a switch beside me and acted like I turned it off—it’s a switch of my assassin cautious self. Since I’m done in checking the room, I will try to execute my job now.

I turned to the lady beside me for the second time. And she’s still busy doing her personal thing and not even listening to class. She’s got petite body but doesn’t seem malnourished. Except for her notable concentration, she’s also very gentle that even the way she uses her eraser looks enticing. There is nothing exceptional but that cute feminine movements, however, I am expecting more.

“Hello.” I whispered while looking her way and she did not even bother to lend me a glance. Distant and aloof, indeed. I pursed my lips and extended my hand even after my first rejection, “I’m Grei Grazer and I’ll be in your care for the remaining month. I will not cause you any trouble and I wish to be friends with you, miss?”

She finally looked at me and sighed and then put down her pen to wipe her hand using her skirt. That was so unfeminine. I blinked as I thought. She gulped as an expression of her introversion and timidly held my hand for not even a second. Do I look like germ or bacteria? I held it in, as needed.

“Alora Weller.” She whispered back and looked away immediately. I figured.  “Let’s not be friends.” She added and sighed heavily again, as though she’s done something like it was forced on her.

I got the right person, then.

-

“We’ve been advancing from basic sketching to painting real fast for the past month. Now as we always do, we will be having a short assessment of what we’ve done in the previous week.” Miss Cherrie said, eyes changing from people to people. She’s got quite skinned body, obviously not a ragged yet, so I doubt she’s a missus. “But I don’t think we can start the assessment now that we have a new artist in our class. So, should we recall a bit of basic information?” She asked and none responded. Aside from talking to each other, her students are also playing on their phones, scribbling unrelated things or talking about me. How did this class even last for almost a month long? I sighed as I watch her helplessness. Miss Cherrie exhaled deeply as well and shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, fine, can I know the basic skills of drawing?” She asked again but no one responded for the second time. “Anyone from my lively and optimistic class?”

“Ability to recognize edges, lines and angles.” I heard Alora whispered while playing with her eraser.

“Miss,” The girl in the front, named Talia—I just got to peek on someone’s scribbled notes, I thought—raised her hand and Miss Cherrie acknowledged her. “Ability to recognize edges, lines and angles.” She answered and got praised.

I peeked at Alora but she’s still busy sketching random things on her sketchpad. “Hey, girl, what’s up?” I whispered to her, furrowing my brows. “You obviously know the answer. How come that you’re just letting them do what they want?”

And she just shrugged me off. Ah, yes, she told me she doesn’t want us to be friends, straightforwardly.

“Okay, who else besides Talia?” Miss Cherrie asked while looking around.

“Deciphering shadow, highlights and gradations of tone.” I heard her soft whispers again. And right after, the girl on her left raised her hand and answered the same. “And power to drawstring them together.” She added for the last time and silently waited for her answer to get stolen.

I smirked, completely pissed off. How do I describe this? She’s f*****g screwed up and no more help can do anything about it. How can I kill a woman who’s more f****d up than me? This is beyond what I anticipated. She’s not dense, she’s just annoyingly helpless and she chose to live that way.

“Good. Now, you better listen, new kid. This lesson is—”

“I am fine, Miss Cherrie. You can continue on what you’ve planned to do today. I can catch up. I am a fast learner.” I cut her off and she slyly chuckled. The girls in class cheered in awe. Alora remained silent, probably thinking that I sound cocky.

Doubt came across Miss Cherrie’s face but vanished right away after a helpless sigh when she’s noticed how firm I was in telling her to move towards the planned schedule for today. “Okay, since he’s said it, you can now get your easels and canvases to start your assessment. This time, you are free to do your portrait on your own style, but remember to apply the basics and fundamentals of each style.” She instructed and everyone got up to get their easels at the back part of the classroom. “Additional instruction, you need to portrait someone you want to portrait in this classroom without bothering him or her. In short, whether he or she moves, you have to continue what you’re doing and if she or he leaves, you have no other options but to draw what you remember.” She added and everyone groaned in vexation, but I heard some whispering that they will use my face as reference.

That’s lame. I smirked and got my things ready, then picked up an easel and a canvas. Maybe I can get Alora’s attention by making this one an explosion for her to see. I thought while stealing glimpses of Alora’s generic face. Time to show what Reisun has stored, Grei. I fixed my invisible mask as force of habit and pursed my lips. My eyes started roaming the room, looking for a good model but I still ended up wanting to impress Alora. I’ll draw you, then. I thought and completely turned to face her. She flinched as she saw me.

“What are you doing?” She mouthed while doing some hand gestures and furrowing her brows. “You can’t be drawing me, okay? We’ve got tons of diamonds in the room, and we’re not even friends.”

I chuckled and leaned forward to her. She drew back but I insisted on catching a strand of her hair and tucking it behind her right ear. “Calm down, Alora.” I whispered and got back to properly sitting. “Diamonds are too symmetrical and boring to draw. Plus, there is no such rule about only drawing your friend, right? Now do your job properly and stop minding me.” I winked and chuckled when she got flustered. Okay, so, even some nerdy art geek does care about romances and leans and hair-tucking, after all.         I shrugged at the thought.

Okay, if I were not professional, I must’ve been crazily flustered already for every girl in the room is facing me while I’m looking and drawing Alora. I feel like a famous actor who just attended a public birthday party. They’re even fighting about my brows, lips and hair strands. How low can these kids act? I really don’t like being watched. Maybe it’s my assassin instinct.

“Are you done?” Alora asked after four hours straight of not looking at me and just scribbling on her canvas. “Because I am, and I am now sleepy.” She added and finally, glanced at me.

I smiled as soon as she turned my way. Although she doesn’t want me to draw her, she still respects me when I used her as my live portrait that she won’t move while I’m not done yet. “Almost. Give me a minute.” I want to see how these amateurs drew my handsome not real face. I pursed my lips to prevent myself from laughing.

“Why are you laughing? Is there anything funny?”

“No. I just remembered something.” I answered. Alora seemed to have problems with people laughing in front of her but not behind her. Is this something I should be worried about? Is she actually psychotic? I raised a brow as I ask myself. But I also think that it would be better to kill a psycho than an innocent. “Please don’t get distracted.”

I heard her whinged and fretfully scratched her head. “You and your girls are distracting me. Please finish faster so I can sleep. Don’t act like we’re close, we’re not even friends.” She replied and blew something off of her canvas. She’s really into reminding me about our boundary. “Plus I bet you’re not even taking arts seriously as well.” She whispered, probably in the middle of deciding to whether she should let me hear it or not. But I already did.

I continued brushing off soft traces of eraser from my canvas using my hand as I deduce things out of her statement—as well? Does it mean that she knows people who are not taking art seriously and she is actually annoyed by them? Or did she say that because I am a guy and for her, guys can’t do proper art? We kind of got the same perspective here. Does she think that art is some kind of god? I heaved a deep breath and stared at my final work with my brows furrowed as I think of the main reason why she talks and acts like that. “Piece of cake.” I intentionally spoke my mind out while staring at my portrait of Alora. She succinctly turned to me and rolled her eyes. An annoying piece of cake. I thought, groaning internally.