I am a ninja. This is all you need to know about me. This is all there is to know.
A ninja has no past, no future. He lives only in the present, and then only when he chooses to. He exists for only one purpose: to kill.
Killing is the only thing I know. And so I kill. Quietly, efficiently. This does not bother me. I simply do what must be done.
Afterwards, I clean up the evidence and disappear.
A ninja knows no friendship, no love. These concepts are alien to him. He does not feel that anything is amiss, because all feeling was torn out of him long ago. He is a human machine.
I sometimes wonder, idly, what a normal life would be like. What it is that binds people together. But never for long.
Only when swinging on my rope, quickly and silently, I get a vague feeling of freedom.
A ninja lives his life in the shadows. He is never seen except when he chooses to be seen. Anyone who sees a ninja will be dead within ten seconds.
It might be nice to get some recognition for what I do, what I can do. Or simply to be accepted for who I am. But I am nobody. I am not. Except for those brief moments, I do not exist.
I am no less a ghost than those I have killed.
Sometimes I think I could just give up. Start a normal life. Have friends, a family.
But no, the roots go too deep. It is too late to change what I am. If I remove that part of me, there will be nothing left.
And so I go on.
I am a ninja.