Names Were Irrelevant

Six looked around the clothing store curiously once they arrived. He had never been inside a place like this before, though he knew what they were. He had always been provided with everything he needed in terms of clothes, rations, and weapons.

The only 'outside' places he tended to utilize were fast food restaurants because one of the other agents snuck some McDonald's in once and let him try a few bites. He treated himself almost every time he left headquarters.

He might stay in headquarters most of the time but he wasn't completely hopeless when it came to the outside world. He did have fake identity documents linked to the bank account where all of his payments for missions were deposited. He pretty much only used it on fast food because the Agency provided everything else he needed.

He informed Claire earlier that he would be able to pay for his own clothing. She had seemed surprised by that but ended up smiling at him so her dimples made an appearance.

She pointed him to the men's section and said, "I normally do laundry once a week so pick whatever you need to last you that long. Or more, if you want. You seem like the kind of guy who travels light."

Her assumption was correct. He wouldn't need more than a week's worth of items.

Six wasn't sure what size he was but he grabbed things that looked like they might fit and tried them on in the area he saw other people testing clothes. He needed an unstained hoodie, some shirts, and several pairs of pants including ones to sleep and exercise in.

Once he got what he needed there, she took him to a different area for socks and underwear. Her face was pink and she wouldn't meet his eyes as she told him to pick.

He guessed at a size based on the size of the pants he had chosen earlier. He also got himself a large backpack to store his things in and called it good. He really didn't need much to get by on.

They made it back to Claire's house with time to spare before her security system appointment and Six found himself observing her. She hadn't been the same since meeting him yesterday. She used to smile a lot more.

Nearly getting killed must have affected her more than she let on. She had panicked when they first got shot at and didn't say much afterward. The Claire he had seen before that talked constantly even when, to her knowledge, there wasn't anyone listening.

He wanted talkative Claire back. She was much more interesting.

"Can we watch more of that show?" Six asked as they sat around on the couch after changing into one of his new outfits.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What show?"

"The one with the shiny pink bubbles."

Claire slapped a hand on her forehead and mumbled to herself. "I watched that over a week ago. He's been in and out of my house for that long and I didn't even know. It's a miracle I'm still alive."

Six had known she wouldn't like it if she found out about his surveillance so he was neither surprised nor offended. Her words were correct. It was a miracle she was still alive. She was supposed to have been killed the day he first saw her but she intrigued him enough that he didn't go through with it.

Now he had thrown everything he knew away because he wanted to spend more time seeing what her life was like and experiencing that sort of thing for himself. He could have tried venturing outside of headquarters and seeing how normal people lived ages ago but he never had a reason to.

Now having killed five agents there was likely no going back. He snuck his fake identity documents out with the weapons when he ran away so it might be possible to build a life for himself on the outside but he had absolutely no idea how to go about it.

Maybe Claire would help him in exchange for protecting her. He wanted to try living on the outside for a while. If he really couldn't handle it, he would find another organization to work for. Skills like his were always in demand.

Six probably needed to get on her good side if he wanted her guidance. Right now he definitely wasn't based on her reaction.

"I apologize for making you uncomfortable. I do not have much experiencing interacting with others outside the scope of my job," he explained. "If I say or do anything that does not meet your standards, please let me know."

Claire looked up at him with the ghost of a smile on her face. "You were raised by the hitmen, weren't you?"

He was surprised she guessed that so easily. "Yes. Supposedly I was found in a cardboard box on the side of a road when I was an infant. I have been with them my entire life; I don't know anything else."

Her brow furrowed. "How old are you?"

"I am not sure exactly but my false identity documents say twenty-two like you."

"I thought you said you didn't have any name other than Six. What is your fake name then?" Claire asked curiously.

"John Sei. Sei means six in Italian. I was told John was chosen solely because it is one of the most common names in the English language," he admitted. "It is nothing but a placeholder. I have always been called Six."

She crossed her legs and looked up at him with an expression Six couldn't decipher. "Do you want a real name that isn't a placeholder?"

He had never thought about it. His fake name meant nothing to him because he knew it was fake. He knew they referred to him as a number because they had to call him something and he was the sixth abandoned child the Agency had ever taken in.

Names were irrelevant in the Agency. Those who had them didn't use them. Everyone was referred to by a code word.

Six had always accepted this at face value and never questioned his lack of a name. It was simply the way things were. Agents had code words. Targets had names. It was one of the many things that separated them from each other.

"I don't know," he said truthfully.