Wakabayashi ✗ The Promised Neverland

ウユニ ⟼ act. ⒍

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...Just a Tiny Deadly Favor

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╰┈➤ second pov

Chapter Summary
Whatserface makes his entrance
once again, but this time
You get something out of it.
Lil bitta cussing 🤭🤏

Chapter Six

⟻足の写真⟼
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You finally caught up on things, the previous day the man was tied up somewhere, you honestly couldn't care less, but knowing he was still around nerved you. Since there was nothing to worry about, you got to work. Hours ticked by as you and Ray stayed up, burning through the night, eyes fixed on the pen's enigmatic messages, desperately trying to decipher it. You knew you wouldn't be much help, so you were honestly there just for the sake of not leaving Ray by himself. By the time Emma joined you, you'd figured out just one thing—Minerva, or whoever was behind this pen, was leading you to "A08-63." The message felt hollow, even more cryptic than helpful, and the sense of urgency only grew as dawn broke over the shelter. The rest of the group was now awake, gathered around as you and Ray shared the plan.

Ray's idea was to send just the three of you to investigate A08-63, while the others stayed back where it was safe. Gilda immediately argued, warning that splitting up was risky, especially with only three people going.

That's when an idea sparked in your mind. "Let's just ask Whatserface," you said with a shrug. "Worst case, he kills us. But if we take this journey alone, we're as good as dead anyway. I know those brutes' territory better than anyone here. I'd be able to manage myself, I'm just worried about you two. We're gonna need reinforcements for this."

Don started to counter your logic but stopped mid-sentence, distracted by the sound of a door creaking open. Everyone turned to see the man himself walk into the room, his disheveled figure catching everyone off-guard, especially Alicia, who froze in fear.

"Hey there," he said casually to her frozen body, a sly grin on his face.

You chuckled, trying to ease the tension. "Right on time, sir! We were just talking about you." The man laughed—a mocking, sarcastic sound that quickly faded into a dead-serious glare in your direction. It was enough to make a shiver run down your spine. Geez... spooky...

Emma, ever the optimist, beamed at him. "Good morning, mister! We've been waiting for you." He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, just staring at her, clearly unimpressed. Emma took a deep breath and broke the silence. "Let's make a deal."

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"Actually, let's start with introductions. I'm Emma," she offered her hand, but he ignored it, his expression unchanging.

"Uhm... (Y/N)." You shifted uncomfortably in the awkward ambience. What were you supposed to do? You've only introduced yourself to a few people.

Emma tried again, "What's your name, sir?"

The man's eyes hardened. "Get out. I don't intend to tell you my name, and there's no need for it."

The silence that followed felt like a challenge, and before you knew it, you broke into laughter, unable to keep a straight face. The awkward feeling left your body and was replaced by a funny one. You hadn't laughed like this, probably since you were a baby that laughed at everything. Still, here you were, laughing, barely even being able to breathe.

"Pft- why not? Hah- it's probably some fucked up name like Leslie!" You leaned against the wall to catch your breathe.

He glared at you, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Shut the hell up! I'm not fuckin' around, I said get your asses out! Now!" His grip tightened around the knife he was holding, a clear threat lingering in his words.

You tried to stifle your laughter, waving your hands dismissively. "Oh, sorry, sir! Pay me no mind, I was only messing around! Anyway, how're you feeling?" You wiped a laughing tear off your cheek.

"Horrible." He grumbled, huffing at how amusing you found teasing him was.

Emma chimed in, unbothered by his mood. "Sorry about strapping you to the table earlier., you're probably hungry from all that." Emma laughed.  "To make up for everything, I have some soup for breakfast. It's not poisoned."

He glanced at the soup, then—rudely—pushed it aside. Emma persisted, nagging him to eat, but he ignored her until she finally sighed and shifted back to the real reason they'd approached him.

"Alright, let's cut to the chase." Emma's voice grew serious, determined. "We're planning to go see Mr. Minerva. And we want you to guide us and act as our bodyguard."

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