Emerald Ripper | Izuocha

Trouble

POV: Izuku Midoriya

He was obviously implying the only person I ever really cared for my entire school career. The only one I could rely on for anything, but I guess it kind of makes sense. Letting go of the past to show I'm committed to this new future.

I pace around my apartment, the guilt from the last kill still ominously ringing through my subconscious. However, there is already a worse situation at hand.

I'm going to have to kill the love of my life.

Although, technically I'm not the one doing the killing. It's close enough.

My hitman, who is really like a boss, makes me pick the victims so it's not traceable. Then they do all the dirty work, nonetheless, my job isn't any less difficult. Psychological planning can be just as painful.

-

My hands shake as I type on my burner phone's keyboard. I know you were implying this, I have to be strong.

I have to show him that I'm not attached to anyone, that I don't care about anything.

My fingers tremble as I look down at the screen. Tears blur my vision as I stare at the name I've typed out.

Ochako Uraraka.

I hit the send button and chuck the phone across the room. The piece of junk hits the wall with a thud and breaks in two.

"I'm- I'm so sorry," I burry my hands in my hair and throw my head into the pillow.

-

By the time night has rolled around, I'm staring at the ceiling with regretful tears still spewing down my face.

I can't go back to my old life, it's too late. I'm beyond screwed whatever way you look at it. Unless I forget all my feelings and go numb, then I can kill her and get his approval. Then everything will be how I originally wanted.

But feelings change, don't they?

I can feel different now, right?

I know my hitman has my real number, so I'm curious as to why I haven't heard a word from him. Sure, he usually texts me back on my burner, but if I didn't respond you think he'd try my real number.

I reach my arm over to my nightstand and hazily pat around. When I feel my phone I pick it up and bring it above my face.

No new notifications.

"Fine then, I'll message you," I mutter tiredly. I hold down the power button, and my voice assistant pops up.

I ask her to message them, and then begin to speak. "So, I know what it was you were suggesting when we talked the other day.. I hope your happy with my choice."

I went silent and the phone beeped, "Send message to 'K'?"

"Yes," I wipe a new tear away.

"Message sent."

I power off my device and continue to beat myself up mentally.

I loved her, I love her, I still love her.., but..
I just signed her death certificate.

A/N
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