"You can't tell them about your assassin job."

That doesn't exactly matter now when she's stumbling through your door with a gunshot wound right in her stomach. Stupid, it was stupid of her to get hurt like this. Yor shouldn't be here, she should be anywhere else trying to patch this stupid wound up.

But instead she's bleeding out on her closest friend's floor with a weak smile. All she can muster as she clutches her hands to the crimson wound is a soft: "Hey."