Chapter Text
Chapter 1 of ‘What became of me’: Where it all began
When did it all start?
That’s a question I always like to ask myself.
Why do I have to live in a world where death is ordered for life to thrive?
Unfortunately, I have all the answers. But fortunately for you, I have the time…
16 years ago…
I found myself on the quiet streets, clutching a worn cardboard sign that bore the simple words: "Please help." By my side was a faded blue bucket, its once-vibrant color now dulled with the grime of the countryside. Inside, only a handful of one-pence coins clinked together, a meager collection that barely reflected the hopes tied to my plea. Each coin seemed to echo the desperation of my situation, so few and far between…
War had become the norm. When air raids occurred, Yuri and I would huddle in the nearest shelter. When soldiers rummaged through our home for food, we simply watched. It was the only thing we could do—sit back and let them take what they wanted. Where were our parents when we needed them?
"Don’t you worry, Yor. I promise you your father will come back."
Did he, Mother? Did he?
No, instead, he left with a gun and an unspoken goodbye. The only thing I have left of him is Yuri…gosh, he reminds me so much of him. Those red eyes that never get rid of their spark…that messy black hair…and a carefree life.
“Yor, make sure his hands stay clean, protect and look after him until I come back.”
I’m still here, Mother. Still looking after him…
It’s so simple for 4-year-olds. All they do is run around all day. That’s their job. My job was supposed to be simple. Learn how to cook, sew, and clean. But now, I’m worrying over if we’ll have enough money to last until tomorrow. But where are your parents when you need them?
Oh, right.
In 2 yellow envelopes that read ‘Sorry, your parents died in the recent air raids.’ Where was that in the ‘Manual of how to be a big sister?!’ Let me tell you something, it wasn’t there.
Because it wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place.
“Hey, baby!” A teasing voice of a boy called out, breaking my train of thought.
I hesitantly glanced up and saw a messy, curly-haired boy pointing at Yuri, who was sitting beside me.
“Yeah, you! I’m talking to you!”
Yuri pointed at himself, a concerned frown growing on his face. My eyes drifted from the stormy grey eyes of the—very rude—boy, to Yuri’s. The spark was disappearing, making way for a cold, almost angry expression.
“Yuri,” I pulled at his sleeve, beckoning for him to come closer, “Do you know him?”
Yuri whispered back, “Yeah, his name is Simon. He’s from school.”
My eyes were now glued onto Simon’s, who was now just a few steps away from us.
“Yor, don’t worry, he’s just—”
Yuri was interrupted by the loud sound of coins dropping everywhere. Our coins.
I turned my head swiftly in the direction of the sound, my eyes widening in surprise as I saw that our bucket was knocked over.
I could feel goosebumps exploding over my skin as I watched Simon get closer—and closer—and closer—
“And you, being so useless!”
Simon’s finger was pointing at me. Me.
No one in my entire life has called me useless. No one.
Not Yuri, not the soldiers that rampage through our home, not even the usual bullies that like to pick on the girls. No one.
I leaped up, my fists clenching as my eyes narrowed, fixing on Simon.
“Aww, now someone is finally being brave—”
Simon didn’t even have time to finish his sentence.
Before Simon could get another smug word out, the tension inside me snapped like an overstretched thread. My fist shot forward on instinct—fast, clumsy, but fueled by something fierce and electric. Before I knew it, my fist landed with a sharp thud against his shoulder.
Simon stumbled back a step, more from surprise than force. His eyes widened, the arrogance draining from his face as if someone had pulled a plug.
For a heartbeat, everything froze.
The scattered coins glinted on the ground between us. Yuri’s breath hitched beside me. A breeze tugged at the loose strands of my hair, but even the wind seemed to be holding itself still.
I stood there, arm trembling, fist still half‑raised. I wasn’t sure if it was adrenaline or anger or the shock of actually doing it—but I felt taller, steadier, as if the ground had shifted in my favor.
Simon’s mouth opened, then closed again. He looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time—not as someone to shove around, not as someone to mock, but as someone who could push back.
Yuri stepped forward, placing himself slightly in front of me, his voice low and steady.
“That’s enough, Simon. My sister is not useless.”
With those words, Simon ran, and Yuri’s carefree life was saved once again.
But my hands…
“Yor Briar,” A deep voice said from behind me, startling me.
I turned, expecting someone to reprimand me for what I just did; instead, there was an old man with long, brown, white hair and a gardener’s hat to top it all off. It was intriguing because, besides his very long hair, he had a gaze that sent shivers down anyone’s back. He was dressed in a gardener’s outfit—the one with a white long-sleeved shirt and brown trousers.
“May I help you, sir?” I asked as I took a step back, accidentally bumping into Yuri, who had bent down to pick up the scattered pennies.
“Yes, you can, actually.”
— — — — —
“I want you to become a part of Garden.” The old man said, picking up his cup of tea and sipping it.
A part of what?
“Sir, may I ask…what is Garden?” I asked as I sat opposite him, the candlelight allowing me to see his shadowed eyes.
He glanced from his cup to me, his cold gaze meeting mine.
“Garden is an independent organisation. We are a group of elite ‘pruners’, or assassins. Something I want you to become.”
My breath hitched. An assassin…? A person who kills people for a living? Why did he choose me?
“Why did you choose me, sir?” I said in a hushed voice, looking down at my hands.
The old man glanced up.
“Because I see something in you I don’t see in others.”
“What do you see, sir?” I asked,
Probably a useless brat who punches boys and begs for—
“Courage. Pure courage and intention. I know you didn’t want to hit that boy, now did you, Yor Briar?”
His saying my name made my skin crawl with goosebumps.
“It was for Yuri.”
A sudden realisation hit me.
If I join…I can use the money to care for Yuri, protect his carefree life, and keep his hands clean. Let him go to college one day! He’s always been so smart…It’s what Mother would’ve wanted. But…
“If I join, what will happen to Yuri, sir?” I blurted out, slamming my hands on the table.
“Your brother will be safe because I will teach you skills that you can use to protect him,” he reassured me, placing his hand on top of my trembling one. “I will show you how to use these hands of yours,” he continued, lifting my hands, “to keep his clean.”
My mother asked me to keep him safe…and I’m willing to do anything to make that happen.
“I know you are only 11, but we have to start somewhere. The rose bush doesn’t start as roses; they start as seeds.”
It took me a few seconds before I responded.
“I will join, and do my absolute best to make you”---and my parents—” Proud, sir,” I said, beaming as I placed my hands on my knees, clenching them with determination.
“Please, call me Shopkeeper.” The old man said, stretching out his hand, fixing me with a soft look, allowing me to see his green-grey eyes in the light.
I reached out and shook his hand.
“Now what, Shopkeeper?”
In the blink of an eye, the Shopkeeper pulled out a pen and paper, a paper with the words:
Yor Briar, will you vow to the Garden to prune away the weeds of your country?
Such a simple word: country. Yes, my country is very dear to me; otherwise, my parents wouldn’t have died fighting for it. But this country holds the very things dear to me: My brother. A promise I have to live up to.
My eyes drifted to the bottom of the page, which read;
Courage is the moment you decide your dreams need a defender.
That quote stuck deep.
What are my dreams? To one day have a family of my own? To one day die on my deathbed, knowing I did the right thing? But what is the right thing?
I shoved the thoughts to the back of my mind.
The right thing right now is to keep your Mother’s promise and to defend Yuri’s carefree life.
I grabbed the pen, letting it hover over the page.
Is this what I really want to do?
I stole a glance from the Shopkeeper, who was peacefully sipping his tea. Then I glanced over to Yuri’s closed door.
Yes, you need to do this, Yor. You need to keep Yuri’s hands clean.
Without wasting another moment, I signed the paper, dropping the pen dramatically.
“Congratulations, Briar. I will be arriving here tomorrow to start training,” Shopkeeper said as he rose, leaving the empty teacup on the table, glistening slightly from the candlelight.
I watched as he took the paper with him and disappeared into the dark of the night in silence.
I shivered.
Dishes. I need to wash the dishes.
I got up, combed my long black hair, and started to wash the dishes.
Yor, what have you gotten yourself into? Becoming an assassin? There is surely another job other than that…
My memory flashed to me sitting on the streets with my sign.
No, Yor. No one is going to help you. It’s been 4 months since your parents died, 4 months since you last laughed, 4 months since you felt this kind of hope.
I gazed up, letting the sharp glare of the moonlight swallow my face.
I have to do this for Yuri. Even if it means I can’t have a family of my own one day…I’ll do it. Because that’s the eldest daughter's job, to sacrifice herself for her younger siblings' future.
Is it?