“Tammy!” Avi yells, jostling her husband. “Wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!”

The boy slowly opens his eyes, “Avi?” He raises his head up from the folded poncho he was using as a pillow. “What is it?”

“I got a surprise for you,” she says with a bright smile.

Tammy’s mind flows into breakfast. She knows exactly what he finds delicious now, so this could be the first time his wife could make him a breakfast he can eat. “S-sure!” He says with a gulp, immediately taking her hand and getting up.

Deep in the forest, Tammy follows his wife through a few trees, bushes, and overgrown grass.

“I had the idea late last night, just after you went to sleep,” she says with a giddy smile.

They traverse down a small hill and Tammy expects a small campfire, but his smile is wiped away as he sees the sheriff. The man is still alive, awake, and tied tight to a tree. There’s a small clearing in the forest in front of him as Avi dug into the ground and tore up hundreds and hundreds of roots, staining her hands a faint black from the soil, then wove them together in a thick rope to restrain the sheriff. Individually, the roots are quite weak and a fully grown man could yank them apart without issue, but Avi tied a lot around the man, covering most of his body. She also ripped off his sleeve and tied it around his mouth like a gag.

The man looks down at the two, eyes open wide. He mumbles something into the gag, his muscles bulge as he shakes and rattles. The skin on his arms has gone raw from tugging and rubbing against the roots.

“Wh-what?” Tammy quickly turns to his wife.

She carries such a warm smile. “So, last night,” her tail wags, “I dragged this guy away and was gonna kill him since he saw us and we need to kill all the witnesses, right?”

“U-uh, right? I guess?” Tammy’s heartrate increases.

“And I was pretty happy about it, since it’s been a pretty long time since I last went on a mission and killed someone.”

“Yeah,” his throat is dry. “The last mission you went on… was the one where you found me.”

She nods, happy that he remembers. “So, everyone’s been mocking me for having such a low kill count, and they’ve been saying I need to up my stats, and all sorts of things like that. But, right when I was about to stab his heart and kill him,” she rattles the end of her tail, “I realized, whoa, wait a minute, my cute little husband,” she pats his head, “still doesn’t have a single kill yet!”

“I-I…” His eyes dart to the man and his desperate struggles, then turns back to Avi. “I guess I haven’t… killed anyone yet.”

“Yup.” She bends her knees a little, so she’s talking to her husband as an equal. “But I know you’re not a coward, and you’re not weak.” Her happy face turns stern and serious. “I don’t want you mocked by my siblings and cousins for having never killed a person before. Their teasing, their insults, randomly bringing up your lack of a kill record just to make you mad… and sadly, if anyone in the tribe did mock you for it, I know I’m not strong enough to shut their mouths.” Her smile returns, though softer. “So, I thought I’d let you kill him. I went back to our little camp, but you were already asleep, so I got to work tying him the guy up for you.”

“W-well, I appreciate the offer, Avi, but, haha… don’t you want the credit?”

“I’ll have the lowest kill count in the tribe regardless; it won’t make a difference. But you? This’ll be your first! It’ll make a big difference for your standing in the tribe.” She rushes over to the tree and grabs the guard’s compact shotgun. She holds it out with both hands, “did they teach you how to fire one?”

Tammy stares at the shotgun for a moment. The wood furniture, the pump, the matte black metal. “I-I don’t… think so. No,” he shakes his head, but doesn’t take his eyes off the gun. “Nobody taught me, but I… think I know how it works.”

“Good!” She grabs Tammy’s right hand and forces him to grab the stock. “They didn’t really teach me either, said I’d learn how things work through practice.” She stands behind her husband and rests her chin on the top of his head. Wrapping her arms around him in a loving embrace as she guides his left hand to the pump. “I made sure the gun was loaded, so you don’t need to worry about that.” She gently guides the barrel upwards until it’s pointed at the man’s head, then slides Tammy’s finger to the trigger.

“I’m not, I-I’m…” Tammy gulps and starts sweating. He’s looking the guard deep in his panicked, hazel eyes. There’s a profound sense of wrongness in the boy’s chest; his body is begging him not to do it.

“It’s okay,” Avi reassures him in a soft voice. “We’re a few feet back, just keep the aim on his head and it’ll be quick. There will be a little recoil, but I’m behind you. The bang will be a tad loud, but I’ll hold your ears once you’re ready.”

Tammy keeps stuttering, his bottom lip trembling. The man has stopped struggling, he’s just frantically shaking his head left and right. After a few seconds, Tammy finally forces it out, “I think you need to be the one to do this.”

“It’s okay to be a little nervous. I was nervous too with my first kill, and… well, it went poorly, as you remember, haha. But I’m not gonna let your teeth be punched out, I’m not gonna let you get shot at, I’m not gonna let you fail.” Her voice has a certain melody to it that Tammy would find soothing if not for this particular context. “He’s tied up, and I’m right here with you. Even if you miss, he had plenty of bullets on him. It’ll be okay.”

Tammy’s breathing turns heavy and labored.

Fear, an impending sense of death, the unbearable weight of the shotgun. Tammy’s psychic powers betray him. Spurred on by a sense of empathy by looking at the man’s face, Tammy experiences his thoughts and feelings, though he can’t properly interpret them.

Tammy understands the basic concept of killing.

He knows what an assassin is.

He’s seen Avi kill before and knows it’s just a part of being in the Barabba Tribe.

Death, and its surface-level implications, is something he’s had to grapple with before. Thoughts cease, potential is erased, grief is left to all those left behind.

But to actually be in the position to bring about death himself? To be the one pointing the barrel and pulling the trigger? It’s entirely different to his expectations. Not only did his teachers in the Barabba Tribe give him insufficient training to deal with it, nobody even thought to try.

The elders of the tribe aren’t stupid.

Tammy is not a bone-tail.

Nobody was expecting a seven-year-old human boy to be put in this situation, so they didn’t prepare him for it.

“A-A-Avi, I c-c-can’t do this…”

“Shhh,” Avi’s voice is so sweet. In the whirlwind of dark emotions, her presence is nothing but a bright spot for him. Surely, he can trust and listen to his partner, right? “He needs to die, yes?”

“…yes.”

“Why does he need to die?”

“…” Tammy stops blinking. He stares at the small spasms and twitches in the man’s face, watches as tears well up in the corner of his eyes, then roll down his cheeks and soak into the gag. “He… needs to die because he saw you.”

“Why does it matter if he saw me?”

“He’d report it, and the authorities will know there’s a bone-tail encampment in the woods.”

“Good,” the small praise shines like a small candle in Tammy’s heart. “And what would the gurant do if they knew of our encampment?”

“They’d send… forces to attack us.” Tammy’s a smart boy, and he realizes what Avi will ask next. “Which means people in the tribe will die. So… So either this man dies, by my hand, or the tribe will.” Through the top of his head, Tammy feel’s Avi smile. His thoughts aren’t composed enough to ask why he has to be the one to do it.

“Just think of it like turning off a lamp,” Avi speaks with a slight hum. “One flick of that switch in your right hand, and poof. Lights out, the tribe is saved, your achievement will be added to the records.” Avi can finally feel her husband’s resolve, so she moves her hands to his ears, pressing them tight.

He pulls the trigger.

A lot of sensations blast him all at once. The sharp sting of recoil, the sight of bright crimson exploding from the man’s head, the drops of blood that cover him, the noise that still rings his ears, and the heat of the muzzle flash. But he can’t focus on any of them.

Tammy feels the man’s soul leaving his body and begin dissipating into the ether.

He stands motionless. Avi licks the droplets of blood off her lips, then gives Tammy a warm hug from behind. She rocks him back and forth and heaps all kinds of praise onto him, but he doesn’t register it. His face is calm, unaffected.

A flood of information enters his brain.

The man’s thoughts, his fears, his memories, his dreams.

The guard’s name is—or was—Aslander, no last name due to the culture of the Gurant Empire.

Born 42 years ago and ripped away from his parents to be thrown in a state orphanage, just like Tammy was seven years ago. There was never enough resources to go around in the megacity, so Aslander went hungry more often than not. He joined gangs, he fought in the street, he stole, Aslander’s memories indicate it was a common youth for those growing up in the mega cities of this planet. He never learned the name of his city, he always just referred to it as ‘the city’, ‘the world’, or he rarely heard it be called ‘City 37’. Aslander’s megacity had streets stacked atop each other in a massive industrial spire, and the first time he saw the sun was when he was 14, though he was soon arrested by the police who patrolled the upper levels, and thrown back down.

Aslander was determined to see the sun again one day, so he made some connections and started as a city guard patrolling the ruthless lower levels of the city. It was a nasty position with constant firefights and gang warfare, and he’d need to somehow survive years of it if he wanted to be promoted to the safer upper levels, which he eventually was. The upper levels were full of bribes, corruption, and selling favors, but that’s just how things work in the Gurant Empire. Bribery was, of course, illegal, but so long as he didn’t get too explicit, or get in a gurant’s way, he was fine. Nobody would go out of their way to prosecute a lowly city guard, but sometimes he’d get a slap on the wrist so corruption-investigators could keep their monthly quotas. It’s just how things worked.

Upper-level guards are a hot commodity due to earning the gurant’s favor, and Aslander quickly found a long-term girlfriend, Ginya. Ginya’s pregnancy at age 19 would lead him to marry her. One privilege of working for the state, and surviving the first few years, was that their child wasn’t taken away and thrown into an orphanage, so the two had a beautiful baby girl, who they named Sharny.

Another girl, Fekrin, and a son, Xoder, would soon follow. Aslander and Ginya decided against having more children since, at his position, any further child would be taken to an orphanage to be raised by the state.

At age 22, Aslander was part of a major investigation that could have led to the arrest of a major crime boss in charge of a huge network in city 37. That crime boss was a gurant, so nothing was done about it immediately, it was more so used as blackmail. If the crime boss didn’t want the evidence used against him, he’d up the bribes paid to the local law enforcement.

In recognition for his service, and to keep a loyal agent away from the crime boss’s reprisal, Aslander and his family were moved far outside of the city, into that rest stop. The most prestigious position for a guard. Low crime, loads of desperate migrants to hold up for surprise fees and bribes, and Aslander got to see the sun every day. He fulfilled his teenage dream so much that Aslander even developed a tan.

Life was good for the next 20 years. His two daughters, Sharny and Ferkin, got married and had babies of their own. They were even allowed to keep Aslander’s grandchildren out of the orphanages, thanks to his position as guard of a rest stop. His son, Xoder, used his dad’s connections to get a job as guard of a caravan, riding the roads as military goods get sent back and forth.

And then, one day, Aslander got a call from the owner of a motel about two kids that didn’t pay for a second night. He investigated, was attacked, kidnapped, then shot in the face.

Aslander’s final thoughts echo in Tammy’s mind.

His family will never find his body.

His wife will never know what happened to him.

His daughters will not be allowed to keep any further children.

His son probably won’t be allowed to keep his job in the caravan.

His family will be sent back to a megacity. While they won’t be forced to live in the lower slums due to an incentive mechanism in the Gurant Empire, where the families of loyal agents will be cared for, they will never see the sun again.

Aslander did absolutely nothing wrong.

The fact that he managed to retain his luxury job for 20 years, and never once suffered a serious corruption investigation, is a testament to his borderline flawless record.

What’s more, Aslander had absolutely no intention of reporting that girl in the motel room, whose name he didn’t even know. The boy, who he assumed to be her little brother, seemed bright, and he paid the bribe without a fuss. The thought of reporting the two of them genuinely didn’t even cross his mind.

If Aslander was allowed to live, nothing would have happened to the Barabba Tribe.

He died for absolutely no reason.

Tammy stands there, staring at Aslander’s lifeless, headless body, still tied to the tree. Avi kisses his cheek. She hugs him, but he barely registers it.

Aslander’s soul fades until he can’t detect it anymore. Where did it go? Did it go somewhere, or just evaporate? Is it gone forever? Tammy has no way of knowing. From his perspective, it’s just… gone. All those memories rest solely in Tammy’s heart.

“-Tammy?”

His little body jolts, then looks at her. Slow, dull, numb, his expression doesn’t change. “Yes?”

“You okay?”

“I…” His brain feels like mush, he looks down at his feet, then to Aslander, then back at Avi. “Think so.”

She smiles, but her face looks fuzzy and distant. Her arms are around him, but it’s like her head is 20 feet away. She says something, but Tammy doesn’t listen. Very, very slowly, he raises his hands. He isn’t holding the shotgun anymore and he doesn’t question where it went. Avi watches as he slowly touches her face, pressing against her cheeks, then mouth, then nose. Her body is really warm.

“T-Tammy? Your hands are freezing.”

“Are they?” He looks at his hand. “There’s some drops of blood on them.”

Avi quickly licks it off.

“Oh. Thank you. Aslander’s blood is gone.”

“Who?”

“Hm?”

“Who’s Aslander?”

Tammy stares at her. There’s a twinge of pain in his chest, and his face twitches. “Nevermind. Let’s just go home. Please.”

“Oh! Yeah.” Avi scoops him up into a princess carry, goes back to grab their things, then leaves through the forest.

It’s a brisk walk, with the warm sunlight filtering through the canopy of trees overhead. He never paid much attention to sunlight before, but he catches himself focusing on the rays as they filter through the overhead canopy.

“So, how’s it feel, finally getting your first kill? You’re like a real Barabba now!”

Tammy smiles pleasantly, though his eyes are unfocused. “Ahaha, you know.”

The hours pass in second, and they make a bedding to sleep on the forest floor. That night, Tammy claws at his arms, he can’t close his eyes. The simple reality of how unnecessary it was for Aslander to die rings through his mind on repeat. Since he’s the one who pulled the trigger, there’s nobody to blame but himself.

The next day, Tammy walks behind Avi and doesn’t let him carry her. The reason, mostly, is because he tries his best to fight back tears, and he doesn’t want his wife to see his face. Bone-tails don’t get disturbed when they kill others, so it would be embarrassing if he was upset.

There’s no reason to be upset. He isn’t upset.