Trigger: Slight gore in this chapter, there will be little gore in the future but necessary here. Borderline panic attack

You were around 9 when you were finally considered prepared enough to start the training for officially becoming an assassin, it was two years behind schedule but your parents could do nothing about it. You went through a series of tests to prove your training was worthwhile. Passing these tests were the difference between you staying home as a useless servant or taking your place in the Tenshi family. You did not want to disappoint, you couldn't. If it was anyone else, they'd be puking from the stress but you just felt...numb.

The physical portion of the testing went well for the most part. Flying had become second nature, it was the one thing you felt freedom in. The feeling of your wings raising you into the air as you moved made an unexplainable warmth curl in your abdomen and spread, relaxing your entire being. You were quick on your feet and quick in the air, twisting and twirling never hindered the speed of your flight, the only issue was your lack of ability to carry too much weight in the air.

Your brute strength was lacking greatly but you had found ways to combat that. Your father was built similar, lightweight and dainty, so although it was annoying to lack in strength it wasn't something anyone was too concerned with...as long as you were never left in just a battle of strength. It was a certainty you'd lose.

The main penalty you had received was with your attempt at manipulating light. You failed exponentially each time. Every time you tried to re-create that feeling you had the first time you activated it, you something felt...off, wrong and you didn't know what. You were barely able to produce enough light to coat your finger and trying to solidify it or mould it into anything was impossible. Your system would freeze even trying to produce light for a few seconds, the longest you lasted was a minute, nobody could find what was hindering your progress. Your mother had no difficulties with her quirk and so you were in uncharted—highly painful—territory.

The final assessment was making your first official kill.

That morning you had headed to the training room and was met with four men, each kneeling and their arms chained to poles behind them. Each man was bruised heavily, cuts and obvious contusions littering their exposed bits of skin. It was one thing to learn about harming other people it was another to see it, to see bruises on someone other than yourself.

Their emotions were plastered for everyone to see. You were transfixed at the sight, nobody was so expressive in your family. Sure, you'd seen smiles from your dad, anger, sadistic glee but you'd never seen people so afraid.

The man on the far left looked was shaking and his shoulders were slumped in a defeat. He was scared. When his golden eyes met with yours, you could see the puffiness and glassy redness as the tears poured down his face. They were the eyes of a man pleading, begging for his life. It was a look that you were never going to wear, pleading on purpose or not was weakness. You didn't ever want to see a look like that again, something so weak and helpless.

Anytime you had felt sadness like that, when you wanted to cry your father was there and the feeling was gone. Snuffed out like a candle in the wind. You didn't understand, crying was weak, it was for babies, so why was this man crying.

The man next to him was angry, his eyes were wide and bloodshot with rage. His teeth were bared like a feral animal cornered, he didn't want to die. It was so expressive, so hot compared to the cold anger and disappointment you had been met with by your family. You didn't know anger could be anything but cold.

The other men were blank, their eyes lifeless and already dead. They had given up already, resolved to die. It was so cold, it was how your eyes looked in the mirror sometimes. You had to wonder if you were fated for the same, to be empty in death as well as life. It was haunting, you couldn't meet either in the eye and flinched the first time you did.

You weren't sure if the twinge in your stomach was excitement or disgust. The look must have shown on your face because your father stalked over to you and placed a hand on your head. It was instantaneous as any hesitation or feeling other than content faded from your psyche.

The wall behind your grandmother had 9 weapons, each of them you had used before.

"Choose four weapons and on each man I will give you a way to kill them. You have one shot each, chose what weapon you think will accomplish the kill most efficiently. If you fail or disappoint me in any way your electric shock increases to 15 second intervals for 2 hours. You are a weapon, a Tenshi, this is your final step in proving you are worth the name, worth your life."

"Yes Grandmother, I understand." Your father released you, the pressure of his aura retreating as you walked to the wall of weapons, the steel glinting more ominous than ever in the white light. He calmed you down just like always.

Your hands instantly gravitated to your knives, you were best with them and it was only right they would be the thing to prove yourself to your family. You set them onto your table, lilac eyes glancing over each weapon in analysis until you stopped at your next choice: a finely sharpened Khopesh (a thin and curved sword made for slicing off extremities or deep thin deadly cuts), perfect for deep wounds to inflict. Next, you wrapped dainty yet calloused fingers around a small hollow-stock crossbow rifle, distance was a necessity sometimes and this would do the job. Your final choice was a strike-light capable of sending enough electricity for an instant death in one shock.

You straightened your shoulders and allowed the calmness of your fathers presence to overwhelm your senses. Your heart slowed once more, your eyes narrowed, sharp and calculating. Your face was blank and you were ready, you were going to prove you were not worthless, you were going to make your punishments worthwhile. You had nothing but your drive to succeed, to kill and become a true Tenshi. You weren't going to fail, you couldn't fail.

This is what I've trained for, no emotion, no hesitation.That's why I was born, to kill.

"A target at a distance, clean kill only." Her voice was cold, robotic and you began without a second of noticeable hesitation. You held the weighted crossbow in your grasp, finger tracing the trigger once, twice before you aimed it. The pleading eyes of the man were brighter than ever but you had to ignore them. Your finger hesitated slightly, the tightness in your chest was creeping in but before it could take hold, you pulled the trigger.

The arrow was right on target and pierced his head with a sound no different then one of the dummies used in target practice. The arrow's tip broke off as soon as it pierced the front of his skull preventing it from exiting his head. It was cleaner this way. He slumped over, a line of blood flowing down from his forehead.

"A vital artery people rarely defend." Your eyes went to the next man, the angry one who was now yanking against his chains. You traced along his body trying to find the best spot to appease the given guidelines. You picked up your blade, the smooth familiarity of the hilt was perfect as you stalked toward your prey, your means to success. With a swiftness, you plunged the knife between the junction of his shoulder and chest before dragging it down between his bicep and tricep effectively severing his auxiliary artery. You could feel the thick warm liquid ooze between your fingers, the spurts of blood managing to get onto your face, dripping down your parted lips. The stench permeated the air harshly.

He slumped over, screaming muffled by his gag as his blood pooled around him. You turned your head and walked away from the scene, the weight of the blade now heavy in your grip and the desire to scrub your body stronger than ever. You wanted to stop and wipe the evidence from your skin but that was a sign of weakness. Yet again Grandma and Dad said nothing, both waiting to see your next move.

"No blood and no visible markings." You stopped, frozen as you tried to figure out how that was even possible without a poison of some sort. Your grandmother wanted you to fail, your fahter wanted his daughter, his tool to succeed. This one would be the test of that, to see if you were anything more than a doll, to see if you could think for yourself.

The man's lower extremities were glistening in blood as he was forced to kneel in the blood of the dying man next to him. You held the strike-light in your fingers, gripping it tight enough to turn your knuckles white.

(Non-distilled) water conducts electricity and a strong enough electric shock into water was fatal for those touching the fluid. You decided that because blood is made up mainly of water and iron, it might be possible that it can conduct electricity in the same manner...unless the density would create a problem. Either way, you felt as if your only option of success was this one, using the strike-light directly on his skin though easier, it would leave a noticeable point of contact.

The loud sound of it's static echoed around the metal room as the tool sparked to life. You stuck the tip into the pooling crimson and waited with bated breath. In a second, the man began to thrash and shake from the violent voltage entering his body. You switched the button back into the off position when I was sure he was dead.

You walked back to the Khopesh and picked it up, swinging it around in my hand as you waited for further instruction.

"Decapitation." Without a second thought the blade swung and a thud sounded. It was over and you were left confused why you felt no relief, none of that adrenaline your parents said they fe't after a kill. Your chest was heavy and you wanted to look away from the sight of your deeds but you couldn't, you were forcing yourself to see what you had done.

Your father could see your attack before you knew what as happening. He watched in distant annoyance as your breathing shallowed and your eyes went glassy, unseeing. Your grandmother sneered, she knew you were weak willed, she could see it as soon as you walked in. You were skilled like a Tenshi but you were too soft, too willing to care and it showed. Nobody else needed to be suppressed as often as you.

Your hands tangled in your hair and you pulled, dropping onto your knees as the pressure on your lungs increased. Before you could spiral into guilt in panic, feelings you were never taught and for good reason, your father was by your side. His hands gripped your head and his eyes brightened, practically glowing as he suppressed everything.

The feelings dulled and the familiar needed numbness arose followed by a rush adrenaline and excitement that only felt slightly off flowed through your system. You passed but you felt weak, though you felt like you did a good job stopping your weakness, it still happened. Next time you weren't going to feel it, you didn't like that feeling and you were glad it was gone. Your fathers comfort did miracles.

You left the training room and headed to wash up. After making sure everything was clean and erased from your body, you returned for your assessment. You were kneeling in front of yor grandmother, her cold eyes boring down on you. To her you were not your mother, you may look like it but she could see the weakness, the difference. That is why you were nothing more than a tool until another child could be made and take the rightful place in the family. You were a weapon, controlled and suppressed by your father and that couldn't change, you weren't built to be the same as them, it was more obvious each day.

"You cracked at the end. Your shitty behavior was unacceptable, it was disgraceful to see you so weak after taking part in the main aspect of being an assassin. I did not train the next generation of the Tenshi family for her to end up so weak minded at something as simple as taking a life. Your job is to kill who you are assigned to kill, no more and no less. I cannot have you becoming an assassin if you are unable to keep a level head." You were shamed, she was right and you would work harder to be a Tenshi, to be what your parents wanted. No more outbursts.

"Yes Grandma, I understand my behavior was unbecoming of a Tenshi. I will not act like that again. I am ready to become an assassin."

"You are to become assassin, a Tenshi weapon. You stumbled in the end, but every one of your actions before hand were well, you performed adequately and efficiently. Now leave." You bowed and left, a dull sense of pride blooming in your chest.

A/N: Alright people, this is more into your life. Do you guys understand why you struggle to feel anything yet? There will be one more chapter of her past before Aizawa shows up so bare with me. Do you like seeing your past in this manner? Thanks for reading I really appreciate it!