Viktor's house had a spacious backyard. At the far end, a rusted iron structure held two swings, remnants from the previous owners who had children. Deborah had never wanted them removed. As Nox absentmindedly reached for a cigarette, her eyes caught sight of Maxin sitting on one of the swings—head bowed, dark hair falling into his eyes. It wasn't hard to guess what he might be thinking; the situation he'd been dragged into was anything but normal.
Her companion's furious outburst earlier had shoved her up against a wall—figuratively—and forced her to say out loud what she didn't want to admit:Yes, I'm protecting him. She'd confirmed it to herself, and now it made her feel sick. The sickness called Maxin was far more serious than she'd imagined.
Pulling a crumpled pack from her pocket along with a lighter, Nox walked to the farthest edge of the yard, away from Maxin. She lit the cigarette, brought it to her lips, took a drag, then exhaled the smoke toward the sky above her, her posture as indifferent as ever.
Maxin lifted his face when he caught the scent of the smoke drifting on the soft breeze. He wasn't startled to see her standing a few meters away. Her name was Nox—a name as unusual as the woman herself. Nox meant "night" in Greek. In chemistry, it referred to electronegativity: the tendency of an atom to attract electrons. A boring subject, one Maxin had never cared about—until he met someone named after it.
Nox, the assassin.
He'd engraved it into his mind.
He blinked when his pale eyes—brightened by daylight—met the onyx black of hers. His spine straightened. She didn't move toward him. Just stood there, smoking, unconcerned.
The atoms in Maxin's body, against his will, felt drawn to her. Stiffly, he rose from the swing and began walking her way. Nox raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed.
"Can I?" he asked, pointing at her cigarette.
"Absolutely not," she replied coldly, took one last drag, and blew the smoke directly into his face before stubbing the cigarette out with the sole of her shoe.
Maxin inhaled the cloud and instantly started coughing, his face turning red.
"Hey, y-you!" he croaked, eyes watery, voice scratched raw by the smoke.
"Don't make that face. If you can't even handle secondhand smoke, how could you possibly want to smoke yourself?" she scolded, suddenly reaching out and touching his shoulder.
Maxin flinched and stepped back, flustered.
"You're laughing at me…" he muttered, barely audible. Nox squinted at him.
"Well, what do you want me to do? I'm calm now ask me something and maybe I'll think about doing it," she said, nonchalantly. But once she realized what she'd just offered, her mouth snapped shut, and she shoved her hands into her pockets as if nothing had happened.
"Push me," Maxin said. She stared at him, intrigued. He nodded, sure of himself.
"…Okay," she said simply, marching toward the swing. Maxin chased after her, confused.
"Wait you're really going to do it?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" she shot back. "Now sit."
He was speechless. He'd expected her to mock him or say something cutting. Instead, she stood there, waiting for him to sit.
The swing hung slightly below his waist, making it awkward to get on. He stretched his legs out once seated and waited. It felt absurd for someone his age to want to be pushed on a swing—but he didn't care. It had been so long since anyone gave him this kind of attention.
"Ready?" she asked, standing behind him.
"Yes!" he shouted, his heart thumping.
Nox pulled the swing back and pushed it forward. Maxin was carried up, then down, higher with each arc. The feeling was good.
"She's cold, but she has a good heart," Deborah said softly to her husband. They were standing in the back doorway, watching the interaction from afar. "And they really do look like a couple in love…"
Viktor said nothing, sipping his tea. He kept his thoughts to himself.
It was a lovely, heartwarming scene—one that might belong in a romance film set in the countryside. But don't be fooled. This was theater. And the truth that bound them was far closer to horror than love. Maxin looked happy. Nox seemed happy too. But both of them knew, happiness is like a butterfly. You reach out to catch it in your hands, and even when you manage to hold it for a moment, the slightest breath will send it fluttering away.
Viktor looked at his wife, the center of his world. And just like Nox, he knew that sooner or later, it would all fall apart. They were assassins. And happiness was the one thing they would never be allowed to keep. Suddenly, Deborah felt Viktor's arms tighten around her waist. She laughed softly.And Viktor inhaled the sweet scent of his wife's perfume—with a silent dread he couldn't put into words.
That night, after dinner, Nox and Maxin entered the guest room.
Nox took a shower, swallowed the pills Deborah had given her, and sat cross-legged on the floor, trying to decide what to teach Maxin in the morning.
The water shut off, and seven minutes later Maxin emerged from the bathroom, wearing a gray shirt and black shorts. His bare feet touched the dark blue carpet, and he shivered from the air conditioning. Small droplets still clung to his wet hair and dripped down his neck.
He spotted her—sitting with her back against the door, eyes closed. Silently, he set the towel on the rack and sat three hand spans away from her.
"What's wrong?" Nox sensed his presence and asked in a low, husky voice. Maxin looked surprised as she turned toward him. "It's called staying alert, darling," she said with a wink.
Her gaze caught on his ears, which immediately flushed red. Her fingers itched to touch the delicate skin.
If she could list the things she liked about Maxin, his transparency would be at the top. He was like a book—easy to read. And everything he did, Nox analyzed twice, so she wouldn't miss a thing.
At first, watching Maxin had been just part of the job. Surveillance for a perfect approach. But the hours of observation stretched into days, and the days into months. Six months. And without realizing it, Maxin had become more than a target.
He'd become her obsession.
"Viktor and Deborah… are they like you?" His soft voice pulled her out of her thoughts. The medication Deborah had given her made her drowsy.
"Like me?"
"Yes. Are they… assassins too?" His question was filled with hesitation. Even though the tension between them had lessened, the idea of being in a house in the middle of nowhere with trained killers still unsettled Maxin.
"Not anymore. Viktor was my partner. He had an accident on a mission and met Deborah in the hospital. Seems like it was love at first sight—and they've been living a peaceful life ever since."
"Does she know? That he used to be an assassin?"
"No. He'd already left the Organization. So it's as if he never was one."
"So it's easy to leave…?" Curious as ever, Maxin kept pressing.
"I know what you're doing, Maxin. You're digging for information to use against us." Nox stood suddenly, as if shaking off a trance. Maxin rose too, flustered.
She turned off the light and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
Without an answer, Maxin couldn't sleep. Lying next to her, he shifted restlessly until eventually, Nox grabbed his wrist hard enough to stop him from moving.
"I'm just curious. I want to know more about what it's like—to be an assassin." His voice was genuine.
Nox's hand tightened around his wrist, and a soft cry escaped his lips from the pressure on his thin skin.
"Ugh. You're so annoying! I swear, next time I'm gagging you." Defeated, Nox let go of his arm and exhaled.
"It's easier to get into the Organization than to leave it. Everything there has a price. No matter what you do—in the end, you have to pay."
"What did Viktor give in return?"
"You don't want to know. Now shut your eyes and sleep. My head is starting to pound."
In the dark, Maxin stared at the ceiling, frustrated. He'd hoped for a straight answer—not another riddle. He wasn't that interested in Viktor. He was curious about Nox. He wanted to know more about her. But this woman was so strange, it was as if she didn't even realize he was trying to get close.
Or maybe… she did. And just thought he was trying to play smart.