AN - Almost everyone gets a P.O.V. this chapter. Soft Dabi for the soul on account of the shit he's going through in canon rn 🙃
Unknown
"Target acquired."
Rifle settled on the lip of the roof, digging into their shoulder.
Crosshairs focused on the weak point behind the knee of their target.
No names.
No emotions.
No details on why they're being brought in or taken out.
Nothing but a picture, strict details of a minimum background mark up and an objective.
The people they've set their sights on over the years ranged from the scum of the Earth to the seemingly Saints among men.
None of that mattered though.
All that mattered about them was their number in the kill count.
"Bring 'em in. Don't disappoint." Their handler's connection turns silent. They know that they've built up enough "trust" to be left to their own devices. "Trusted" to get the job done and bring the target in.
"Seven more." They mumble as their male, white haired, grey eyed, six foot three inch, Japanese target drops forward to his knees in agony. The scream of pure, unadulterated pain and terror rings through the night. Reaching even them across the street on their claimed spot on the roof.
Nothing.
No sympathy for their target.
Nothing anxious passes through them as said target frantically searches for them through the window.
There's no fear when their eyes connect. They've already jammed all singles going in and out of the penthouse. Not even the target's advanced security system could get a distress signal out.
They watch as their target struggles to inch away from the window, trying to get out of the line of shot.
'Useless.' They think as they watch the pitiful display of self preservation. "If I wanted you dead little one, I'd have just gone for the head." They shake their head and pack away their rifle, taking their time. "It's not like he's going anywhere." They mumble under their breath.
They pause in dropping down to where their nondescript, generic, most commonly used in this region of the world, grey Ford Focus. Taking just a second to let their mask slip. Their compartmentalization breaking as a soft sob works its way up their throat.
Just as fast as the control slips, it's back in place.
"Seven more." Monotone mumble setting their emotions firmly in their place at the back of their mind.
Till number one thousand's ticket is turned in, they'll keep themselves in check. Everything fragile and dear to their heart in check. In the back of their mind.
"Seven more." One last reminder as they close their passenger side backseat door.
Just seven more confirmed kills and captures and they'll be released from their contract.
They'll be free to do as they please without their handler breathing down the back of their neck.
Seven more and they can go home.
Silver Fox was more than ready to do so.
Izuku Midoriya
He knows alright?
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