Heartless || •OG• ✔️

Chapter 17 - June

It was ironic how the rooftop felt like a cage June was trapped in. He spent more time on roofs than he did the ground, yet the M40 in his hands was foreign like the rest of his environment. Rain dripped down his horizontal body, his legs sprawled out and bent to kept the rest of his figure stable.

He was monitoring Unmei now since everything had changed. The sudden disappearance of the 3 most important people from Unmei caused mass panic. There was disorder, but they were recovering. Hakai was in worse shape. Charlotte didn't prepare her subordinates well. June wasn't sure if she cared enough about them to teach them.

Gravel was digging into his leather jacket and all black attire. His combat boots were squeaking from the way he was rubbing them back and forth. The stone slabs making up the edge of the rooftop were where his rifle was placed, hooked up on a bipod he didn't really need. However, monitoring Unmei was more of a part-time thing.

June knew what Ivan would want before he could even ask it. Ivan never got around to actually saying what favor he needed from June, but actions spoke louder than words. Spying on the High Council and gathering intel was a task no average assassin - or mafia leader for that matter - could handle. June was different. He trained his whole life for that, so he was prepared to do that job.

Tracking the High Council.

They were difficult to find, but they visited New York often. It was huge for their operation, and there were rumors half of the Council had homes there to stay for extended periods of time. It was harder to find them when no one actually knew their names other than Madam. She was the head of them all, and June wished he could fly to London and meet her.

Despite how little he had to go on, June had faith. He wasn't tracking them to help Charlotte and the others. Why would he? Although he'd admit he was an asshole, Charlotte was a manipulative bitch he hated with his whole being. It amazed him that anyone liked her at all. Based on the way the Underworld jumped at a chance to kill her, June was willing to bet she wasn't as popular as she liked to think.

Jimin wasn't either. He seemed like a dangerous man, but in reality, he just looked like a lost puppy most of the time. The best fighter in the Underworld was more commonly referred to as the best lapdog in the Underworld. June wondered if Jimin knew that or not.

The point was, June knew more than Unmei and Hakai. That was because he was a neutral party who preferred taking orders from Unmei. He had done hundreds of jobs in the past. He had hundreds of connections he could use to track the High Council. Ivan knew much about them, but if he researched them himself, he was risking execution. Ivan never changed. He always only looked out for himself and no one else. June learned that the hard way.

Clouds clogged the night sky, the rain continuing to pour. The manor ahead had flickering lights that needed repair. The rest of it looked like a haunted house with the curved rooftops and metal gates. It reminded him a bit of Charlotte's home, but the difference was it wasn't as obnoxious. There were no decorations outside. Not even much of a front yard. Unlike the Evermore abode, this wasn't taken care of very well. Ironic considering Unmei was holding it together better than Hakai.

The silence was interrupted by June's phone vibrating by his side. He kept it in a plastic bag so the rain wouldn't damage it too much, the rectangular device mere inches away. June snatched it and took it out of the protection, seeing how an unknown number was calling him. That wasn't an unusual occurrence. Most used burner phones to make their calls, so June answered without thinking twice. However, he did what he always did: he remained quiet and waited for the other party to speak first.

He heard a soft breath, then, the voice of the man he despised. "June," Ivan said on the other side of the line. He didn't answer. "I was thinking about what you said. I'm going to leave the Underworld and go find Charlotte."

"You're doing what?!"

"Every single one of my friends are fighting for their lives against the High Council, and all I've done is sit here and watch. I know where all their hideouts are, I'm going to try and find them, starting with Charlotte and Jericho's hideouts. But June, if I can find their hideouts, the odds are so can others. I have backups of everything. All over New York City I have vaults of blackmail and information. It's a failsafe in case something like this happens and someone does a horrible act against the rules."

"Kind of defeats the purpose of a hideout, don't you think?" June asked, snorting.

"We like to pretend we're organized. That we have rules and we're dignified people. No, we're just monsters wearing suits. There isn't a single rule in place that makes much sense, the hideouts among them."

June kept his eyes on the manor ahead, his hand gripping the phone a bit too tightly. "What am I supposed to do with this information?"

He jumped when a crack of thunder hit the sky, and he scolded himself for letting his guard down. The scope showed nothing of note at the manor. No activity outside. Hell, he couldn't even spot anyone through the windows. It seemed like a normal house. To the outside world, no one would have thought twice about it. If only they knew the horrors that happened inside.

"Whatever you want. Like I said, it's only a matter of time before they find all our hideouts and we're snuffed out. I'm going to lead them to one of mine that I got through an outside party. Maybe there we'll be safe. Those hideouts aren't in my records. The problem is if my outside party is caught, then we'll get found."

"So that means even then, it's only a matter of time before they figure out where you are?" June asked.

"Pretty much. The point is, as soon as we get to my supplier, I'll call you."

"That's risky as hell. Why would you do that?"

"I'll use a burner, and-"

"Still risky," June replied, not meaning to cut him off, but his adrenaline was spiking. There was still no activity in front of him. No people showed themselves, no suspicious items. Even the thunder fell into the background. Regardless, his heart was thumping in his throat until his flesh was straining to keep the organ inside him.

"I didn't think you cared."

"I don't. What I do care about is the High Council going down. I'm not stupid, I know Miss Evermore is gonna come up with some crazy plan to take them out. And I know you were going to ask me to investigate them. I'll do it for you, you don't have to pay me or negotiate."

"Why?" Ivan asked.

"The High Council is a group of whiny, wussy pieces of shit. If they go out, chaos happens and the Underworld reshapes itself. Maybe there'll be a gold coin influx."

"Or maybe there won't be."

June paused, his hand tracing down the cracks on his rifle. "Or maybe there won't be."

No words came for a long while. June was convinced Ivan hung up, but he checked the chipped surface of his phone screen to confirm the call was still going on. The device pressed up against his ear, scratching the sides of his skin until he was sure he was forming more scars on his body.

Somehow, the M40 was packed up in less than a minute. June was moving without asking himself permission. His phone was surely going to shut down soon from the exposure to the weather, but it stayed alive long enough for June to hear a sharp breath from Ivan's line. That was what made him pause his actions.

The case in front of him contained all of the M40 except for the scope. June had one hand on the phone, the other on the equipment. For some reason, he couldn't finish putting it away. He was hooked on the phone call that had so much yet so little meaning at the same time. It was a sensory overload. His nose was taking in the petrichor scent, the dark palette before him making him frown. It was odd how June would wear all black, but the sight of a street or sector without colors made him fill with sorrow.

"I'm sorry," Ivan said. Another boom of thunder came. "You were right. I didn't sell you out because I cared about Charlotte and Jimin. I did it because I wanted to protect my business. And I know what I'm doing now won't make up for the pain I caused you, but maybe it's a start. Maybe it'll prove I'm being serious. That... I'm trying to learn."

"Learn," June mumbled, the single word feeling like a joke. "I can't forgive you, Ivan. Because of you I lost my relationship and my friends."

Although June thought he was the one justified to laugh, Ivan bellowed a melodic chuckle that had June's mind fuzzing up. It was dry of any humor, the sticky sound grinding against his ear until it made it bleed.

"What I did can't be justified, but you're still such a fucking asshole. You can say you hate me all you want, but I had nothing to do with you leaving Charlotte and Jimin. That was your choice, not mine. I'm an asshole, I get it. We all are. But that doesn't change that you're alone because you choose to be, not because you are. Stop blaming me for something I didn't do."

June didn't get the chance to reply. Those words were the last ones he heard before the call disconnected. He hid his phone inside his jacket to protect it, but it was already soaked and would need rice as soon as possible.

Responsibility was a funny thing. June had faced consequences his whole life. Sometimes for actions that weren't his own. Like Ivan choosing to hide vital information from June. That led to him failing his mission and having a dance with the Grim Reaper. It was astonishing he was still alive after that. All the luck he ever had went to that moment, and he was shown brief mercy. It was the last time he had ever been shown mercy.

The assassin finished his task of packing up. He swung the case over his shoulder and stood, peering down from the rooftop to the sidewalks below. No one was there, which was as expected. While no one was there, he took a moment to sit on the edge and stare. Not at the manor. Not at the ground. He was looking at nothing in particular.

Serenity came in the form of rain drops. They bounced over his figure and washed out the muck littering his flesh. There was no one by his side. No partner in crime, no friend, not even an acquaintance. He would go back to an empty house with an equally empty bed. The walls would have no decorations other than the occasional art piece the old homeowners left behind. Perhaps he liked the rain because it was the only thing that said hello to him anymore. And that was when he realized it.

He truly was alone.

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