No Hope. Only Bloodshed. (Akame Ga Kill x Cal's apprentice male reader.)

Chapter 9: Recovery Period

Y/N P.O.V.      Location: Night Raid Base - Kitchen.

Mine still needs to be spoon-fed. Her injuries left her arms severely injured - I consider it a miracle she was able to get her Imperial Arms back at all.

(Mine) - Hey, rookie.

(Y/N) - I have a name, you know.

(Mine) - ...Hey, rookie.

*sigh*

That's not going away anytime soon.

(Y/N) - Seconds?

(Mine) - Yes. Also, can you tell Akame to stop spoon-feeding me?

I take her bowl, and fill it with a second helping before setting it back on the table in front of her.

(Y/N) - No. You may be my comrade, but you need to learn some humility. Besides that, the medics said it would be two weeks before you make a full recovery. Any potential strain could worsen your current state.

(Akame) - Besides, with your attitude, you'd forget to take care of yourself and get yourself killed. 

(Y/N) - Said the fucking donkey who drank the fucking lamb sauce that I needed for last night's supper.

She looks down, and continues to spoon-feed Mine, and I'm left alone with my thoughts.

Boss has had at least one of the other members of Night Raid keep an eye on me and accompany on my recent missions and patrols in the event of another mental breakdown akin to that of two weeks prior.

Never have I ever wanted to kill somebody I considered family so much.

I've finally realized how horrible this job is.

Finally realized how much it hurts.

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TIMESKIP - THAT NIGHT...

We sneak through the house, careful to avoid making excess noise as we close in on our targets - the Kobore brothers.

Hearing something strange, I signal Leone that I'm going to take a look. Finding the strange sound, I put my ear up to the door it's behind, and hear... snoring?

Curious, I gently and quietly open the door, not wanting to disturb any potential enemies, only to find... 

...oh no.

The child in the bed slowly begins to stir, and I shut the door and back away as quietly as I possibly can, the reality of what we're doing quickly sinking into my bones as I realize that this child has no idea what his father and uncle have been doing.

In my haze, I don't notice until it's too late that I've bumped into something, accidentally knocking a glass vase onto the floor, breaking it.

...shit.

Quickly using the force to obscure us from the sight of anyone who would see, the brothers burst into the hallway, weapons in hand, and the child timidly leaves his room.

(Child) - Daddy? Daddy, what was that? Is everything okay?

The father looks around for a moment, seeming to confirm for himself that the vase fell on accident, and looks to reassure his son.

(Father) - No need to worry kiddo. Nothing that can't be replaced. Let's get you back to bed, alright?

(Child) - I'm thirsty.

(Uncle) - Alright, we'll get you a glass of water, and then we get you tucked in.

(Child) - Okay!