BOYA MARRIED ONESHOTS

The Vigilante III

The Vigilante took a moment to scan the area, making sure that he was completely alone, before slipping into one of the darker streets that led to the shadier part of the island.

He pulled his hoodie further down his face, not wanting any of his rowdy neighbours to recognise him and drag him into a fight. He kept his head low,  concealing his facial feature from anyone walking past him, especially with the black mask he was wearing.

Although, it seemed impossible to simply return to his manhole safely, considering the few bulky men blocking his path in front of him.

"Hold it, boy. You and I still have some unsettled businesses"

The Vigilante looked up and gave him one of his cold stares.
"Pathetic. You need to bring your friends with you?"

The leader stomped forward and raised his hand, revealing the metal bar he held in his hand.
"Who cares. All I know is that you're DEAD!"

The metal bar swung forward.

The Vigilante smirked under his mask.

Easily, he dodged the swing, and sent a kick flying towards the leader's stomach.

The leader stumbled backward, letting go of the metal bar as his hands clutched his middle.
"You little-"

He was immediately interrupted by a punch to his jawline, throwing him backwards until he crashed into his so called followers.

As his minions hovered around their leader, their face turned pale at the sight of him.

Pale. Unconscious. With blood running down both his nostrils.

They heard the sound of bones cracking, turning to see the Vigilante relaxedly stretching his arms and cracking his knuckles.
"So...who's next?"

Immediately, all those men picked up their leader and fled. Not wanting to deal with someone who single-handedly knocked out a man using just his bare hands.

The Vigilante gave a sigh, getting tired from encounters as such, before continuing his journey back to his shabby, run-down, 5-storey apartment.

He climbed the stairs to the first floor, then walked down the hallway toward his apartment room. The air was filthy and reeked the smell of piss and alcohol. He scrunched his nose under the mask, trying to bear with the horrible smell.

It's almost been a year, yet he still couldn't get used to it.

Opening the door using his keys, he stepped in and slammed the door behind him.

Today has been rough.

He pulled himself out of his hoodie, throwing it over a chair and leaving his mask there as well with the intention to wash them later.

He ran a hand through his hair and went inside the bathroom, splashing water from the sink onto his face to freshen up.

When he looked up into the mirror, he saw his reflection staring back at him. The tiredness in his eyes reminded him of what happened today.

She still looked beautiful as the day he left her.

"Boboiboy?"

He fled. Ran as fast as he could without looking back. He wasn't expecting to see her at all, and no matter how much he missed her, he was afraid of what would happen if he let himself continue staring into her eyes.

Scared of the outcome.

Scared of the results.

Like the coward he was.