The Perfect Shot - NCT

☓ shot ☓

It's been a couple of hours, the three of them had downed one too many drinks than intended. Johnny was somewhat fine, Yuta is just barely fine, and Taeyong is.... He's fine.

Johnny starts to stack the shot glasses. "Yuta, as you were saying?"

Yuta shook his head, "Oh, no. It was you who was talking. I should be asking you that question."

Johnny looks down at his phone for the time, the battery was already drained so the device wasn't able to turn on.

"It's 4:27." Yuta holds up his phone for Johnny to see.

"Ah, I need to leave then. It was nice chatting and drinking with you two, especially when I just failed my job. I have to go." Johnny picks up his stuff, thanked Taeyong although the wasted man probably won't be able to process what Johnny says, and Johnny heads for the door to leave.

He then stops right before he pushes the door, he steps back, remembering something, "Oh, yeah. What type of theme was your last client's request?"

"Like what they wanted me to do?" Yuta asks for clarification. Johnny nods. "Clean and non-bloody."

"What?" Johnny stares at Yuta with concerned eyes. Never in all his yesrs of working in the photography industry has anyone requested him to keep the shots non-bloody.

"Thanks again, Taeyong." Yuta gets up from his seat as well. He walks towards Johnny, then walks past him to leave. Johnny grabs onto Yuta's wrist to stop him from going.

"Yuta, what is your job again?" Johnny had totally forgot to ask, he doesn't even know if Yuta is a real photographer. What type of request is non-bloody? A murder scene for a movie poster?

Yuta turns and gave Johnny an innocent and warm smile. What Johnny was about to hear wasn't what he had expected.

Johnny's hands falls to his sides. Yuta leaves the bar. Taeyong is still wasted behind the counter. Johnny had just encountered a hitman and talked with him all the way before sunrise without knowing. Johnny got chills. Taeyong's colleague arrived to take over the morning shift. Johnny leaves after knowing that Taeyong's got someone to take care of him.

Johnny walks under the dark cornflower sky. The eerie thoughts circled, "Yuta's... a...."

-----

The next day, Yuta was ready. He felt ready. He went on a roof top. A burning sensation filled his chest and throat.

He checked all his equipment.

He located the person; examines the person's appearance, mood, actions, and, of course, their surroundings.

"Angle and positions...." Yuta mumbles the steps to himself. "Hand-eye coordination...." He closes one eye and shuts the other.

"Clean and...." Yuta wasn't sure about the non-bloody part of the request. A series of firetruck sirens starts to go off, that didn't stop Yuta, in fact, that did him justice.

He pulls the trigger and....

"Number 92. Sorry, Johnny."

With a decibel barely reaching 80, Yuta's successfully completed another hit with the quietest gun he owns. "I'm a hitman, Johnny. I kill people."

End