LOVE ME TENDER [t. keigo]

5.5

"Are you ready, Hawks?" He smiled, letting his body do all the talking. It wasn't like he had any microphones on him anymore; he just didn't feel like talking. There wasn't anything he wanted to talk about more than your situation.

He had mentioned your situation previously, but because he needed more evidence, he was unable to get a full answer of what he should do. Originally, the plan was to eliminate Jin Bubaigawara; to kill Twice and any other subject that proved to be too dangerous to stay alive. In his original summary of you, he realized how harmful you could be alive; that there was too much danger in letting you live. And so, he said just that: he told the commission that there was a potential hazard, and they took his word for it. Under your name, it says, [Name]: to be deceased. Seems ridiculous, but the commission only expects perfection. If he says he'll kill someone, he'll do it. Because he's always done it.

"Now, we did want to specify with you the importance of your execution," the President pulled up her notes, slipping out a map with the plans of attack, "if you don't succeed in assassinating Jin Bubaigawara, our heroes will have a hard time succeeding. Not only that, but there will be more space for the villains to react and plan, which will only lead to the demise of our country."

He felt himself tense, nodding along with the President's words. He wouldn't interrupt her; there was no way he would get away with just pushing in his own opinion in the middle of a speech about how Japan is depending on Hawks: the number two hero.

"Oh, and don't forget about [Name]," he almost jumped, but judging by the way she looked at him just now, she definitely knows something is up, "you mentioned she was a healer? I believe you said you needed to do some more research on her, did you? Tell me, what are you hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything, Pres'," his body reacted for himself, using humor as his own consolation, "yeah, I did research on her, and I didn't find much about her. She's actually pretty hidden in comparison to people like Toga or Twice. I tried interrogating her, but—"

"Hawks," her voice was ice, sending shivers down his spine as he moved his hand to his mouth. There is no way he just lied to the President like that with zero hesitation; well, might as well dig his own grave if he's really going to fuck himself over like this, "...how long have I known you?"

Goodbye, cruel world.

"... For a while now, Pres'."

"So what kind of fuckery is this?" She stood, walking around her desk. There was no question in her voice. She spoke with such certainty it made him still in his spot. He knew that was a bad move; it made him seem suspicious and unreliable, which only meant he would be disposed of sooner than later. He couldn't help it, he was worried about the circumstances his information would put you in. The things he found weren't pretty; they made you seem like a horrible monster with a quirk too strong for your own good. Now that he knew it wasn't just healing; that it was a literal absorption of the energy around you (and more, might he add), he knew there was no chance in leaving you alive. He had kept hope throughout this time that your abuse might aid in his claim, but now that he was standing in front of the main decider, all ideas of your restoration were gone. He felt helpless in front of her. It's like he was a child all over again. He's small, and doesn't know how to stop the doom that overcomes him when she stands right in front of him; gun in hand, pointing right at him.

"Don't think you can get cocky with me, Keigo," she narrowed her eyes, shoving the pistol's barrel right in his chest, "you're as replaceable as these bullets. Remember who you're working for; remember what we're after."

He closed his eyes, scrunching his face as she pushed the barrel closer. Remember. He has to remember. He knew she was right, and now he's brought back to the same dilemma as before: what's more important? The lives of many civilians, or the life of a single girl? He doesn't know. He's never known. How is he supposed to know when all his life has been spent enclosed within the grasp of the commission? When all he's ever known has been created for him, and served to him with a baby spoon. He's frustrated; what about his feelings? Never has he ever asked for anything from these people.