PLASTIC FLOWERS ( k. bakugou )

chapter 09

' a shade of what i feel '

━━━━━

The youth breathes in the fresh air as gunshots continue to resound throughout the sea of corpses, as bullets zoomed to and fro, as smoke rises and bodies begin to decay. It isn't the most comfortable place to be in, but it was better than the hell hole in which she was abandoned to rot. The youth wanted a choice, she had no need for salvation. At least when the time comes that she becomes one of those bodies that litter the floor, she died following the path she had chosen for herself.

The cycle isn't exactly endearing but her life doesn't perish in this cycle so she does her best to maintain this.

Until one day. Seventh man she has worked under to survive. The mobster who was every bit as calculating as his smile. The youth cannot find a way, a reason to get rid of him so she remains. He uses fear and wills his subject to do his bidding, but the youth is not afraid.

Fear will learn to fear her and so she must be impervious to fear now.

Four months, twenty days, three hours, five minutes, twenty seconds and counting. The longest she has been in service of an evil man— they are all evil.

"Hey!" one of her cohorts call, as she sits in one of the fusty, velvet couches in the living room, polishing the surface of her most favored dagger. She's learned to wield a gun now, but most of the people around her don't really give a shit about that since they're more partial to using their quirks.

The youth thinks that those will be their downfall but she doesn't say a word. She never does, thinking that these people are beneath her and they would die if they went through the same hell she did.

"What do you want?" she asks, eyes the same blood red and the bearer a heartless murderer. A marionette who would destroy anything that stood in her way to victory, a warrior.

"We've got a new mission," he said. "Fujiwara's already been briefed but the boss wants to tell you something first. And oh, I heard that there was some kid just your age so you'll probably babysit."

At the end part of the statement, her normally placid face turned to that of annoyance. She definitely did not want to babysit and giving her an assignment like that would be uncharacteristic and moronic of the boss. And he was anything but.

The room was the same per usual and even after months, the furniture and embellishments were the same. The glass she had broken by tossing a dead body the first time she came here had been replaced, adjusted to a finer calibre even. The boss was sitting in that black swivel chair of his, browsing through files propped on his bare mahogany table.

Only the fresh scent of the jasmines spilling on the porcelain flower vase filled the room and when her presence was noticed, the older man placed the file and beckoned her to come closer.

"Betrayal, murder," the man began in that eery voice of him that would have scared the boogeyman. "Your specialty lies on the two of that. And of course, it is what I need you to do."

He tossed a file enclosed in a brown folder at her and she caught it with ease, peering up above the folder to see the malignant smile of the man.

"These are basic information of some members," she said and browsed through the papers.. "Do you want me to kill them?"

The question was straight to the point but it didn't unnerve any of the personages in the room. The boss, for all his eery disquiet demeanor, nodded and began playing with the petals of the jasmine flower inside the porcelain vase.