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❟❛❟ CHAPTER FORTY NINE ❟❛❟
WITHOUT REALIZING IT, TIME HAD SLIPPED THROUGH AKAME'S FINGERS LIKE SAND. The internship in her second year had begun.
"Madara! Could you bring this to the post?"
A voice rang out from behind the trucks stacked with relief goods. Akame turned, her long shadow dancing over the cracked pavement. She caught the carton—a box of chilled bottled drinks, still damp with condensation—offered by a volunteer flushed with gratitude.
"Residents dropped these off again," the volunteer murmured, almost sheepishly. "Said it's the least they could do."
Akame nodded once, wordless, and turned away. Passed a row of busy volunteers, exchanging nods without breaking her pace.
"No villains in sight," Akame reported curtly into her intercom. "Madara, out." She switched it off—just as a sudden gust brushed past her, accompanied by the sharp flapping of wings.
"I figured I'd find you here," came the light, amused voice above her. "Want some dango?"
She didn't look up at first as Hawks landed beside her with his usual grin. "What now?" she asked as she plucked the dango from his hand.
He chewed, swallowed, then leaned closer. "Let's just say some higher-ups were ready to throw a fit. But I... got creative. Made up a neat little story to cover your tracks."
Akame raised an eyebrow. "You say it like I bribed you."
Hawks laughed. "You should be grateful I'm the one who found out. After all—no one would believe a U.A. first-year wiped out the entire League of Villains."
She shrugged. "It was self-defense."
"Self-defense my ass. That was a damn massacre."
She resumed eating, letting the silence between them stretch. "I'm surprised you're so chill about it."
Hawks twirled a feather between his fingers, his eyes narrowed, voice lower now—more serious. "Just like what I've said before, I want to make a world where heroes have time to kill."
Akame glanced at him, but he kept walking, watching the drifting feathers in his hand.
"Not just the time to stop, breathe, or smile for cameras. I mean the time to choose. To end monsters before they grow stronger. To kill, not because we're bloodthirsty, but because hesitation costs lives."
He paused, looking up at the gray sky. "They've slaughtered thousands. And we're the ones shackled by ideals that don't work anymore. I'm just saying—maybe it's time the rules caught up with the world we actually live in."
