District 5. A sector buried beneath layers of steel and secrets. According to a particularly prolific client, a certain research project had surfaced that now drifted within the tides of their interest. The goal was simple in writing, if not in action: obtain the research data from a secluded facility located deep within the district's limits.
The specifics were as cold and clean as any other order.
Leave only a single digital copy of the research data for the client. A second copy, prepared for Kakine Teitoku, would serve as an extra incentive and an added variable for the Level 5's continued cooperation. All other hard copies, digital or otherwise, were to be disposed of without exception. The only things to remain were the two captured copies.
To execute this task, the infamous group "School" had accepted the commission. The planning phase was handled with silence, their operatives threading the process like instruments in a death-bound orchestra.
When the plan came to its final execution, it was passed down to a single member.
Yuyima Rakko, known by another name in certain circles.
The sniper, the assassin, the one who needed no team. Yumiya Rakko.
The job had been laid bare before her with blunt simplicity: infiltrate the designated laboratory, extract the data, eliminate any leading researchers involved in the project. The client had no concern for the scientific minds behind it, but their presence demanded extermination. Witnesses were to be silenced. Permanently.
The plan was flawless. At least, on paper. But played on the field was different.
This would have been a perfect completion. That was how it was supposed to end. The contract had been accepted by a group feared even within the darkness of Academy City. A name whose weight was carried by their leader's brutal infamy. There should have been nothing to jeopardise Rakko's mission.
Nothing.
"Nothing my ass."
The hiss escaped her bloodied lips as the groaning shriek of steel rang through the air. The building... no, the charred skeleton of what had once been a facility. It had trembled under the impact of collapsing beams. The structure was dying. And Rakko's body, slumped and beaten, was barely capable of twitching.
Her muscles screamed. Her vision blurred.
This wasn't in the mission brief.
They had told her the facility posed little threat. It operated under the guise of a mundane archival building, with hidden data secured in a locked underground office. Light surveillance, minor security? All accounted for. The school's hacker had taken care of the cameras. The guards were subdued with silent efficiency.
And the researchers?
The first three were killed swiftly.
But the last one... oh, the last one had run.
Had run while throwing a slur over his shoulder, calling her
"Twin-tailed bitch."
Her? Her?!
That moment. That exact breath. Something deep within Yumiya Rakko snapped. It was another brutal day as a loner with no friends, as she had failed earlier to accept an invitation from her classmates. She was hurt and depressed about her move, making any excuse to relieve herself to be welcomed. Her lips curled upward. Her pupils dilated with something animalistic.
It became a hunt.
The researcher fled with the sole remaining hard drive. But she pursued with all the joy of a beast cornering its prey. There were no complications, there was only the chase. The thrill to ensure dominance over the asinine that insulted her due to her depressed mood. It ended, fittingly, at a dead end. An unfinished construction site turned into an impromptu hunting ground.
An hour and fourteen minutes.
That was the length of the game she allowed him. Long enough for the fear to bloom. Long enough for his breath to stutter and break.
She stood over him, a predator grinning ear to ear. She took the drive. And as his life drained away, her carnivorous smile reflected the last thing he ever saw.
It should have ended there.
But it didn't.
Pain lanced through her leg. Sharp, brutal, without warning. The sensation forced a scream from her throat. A bullet. Fired with precision. A mistake on her part. One she shouldn't have made.
A mistake that could have cost her everything.
But instinct took over. She clutched the hard drive. She dragged the cooling corpse of the researcher over her body as cover. Her breathing was ragged, her heart hammering.
No time for fear.
She retaliated with ruthless calm. A single air bullet, a technique she had honed to perfection, launched from her hand with sniper-like accuracy. It struck her unseen assailant, dropping them instantly. Yet even that wasn't the end. Why?
Fate, it seemed, had reserved something special for her that day. Because the instant her opponent fell, the world ignited. Light bloomed, screams of orange and red. The explosion swallowed the space like a living creature biting its unsuspecting prey. Rumiya shielded herself behind the corpse, the shockwave threatening to tear her to shreds.
Her eyes squeezed shut against the brightness. Her lungs burned from the smoke.
But she lived.
"An explosion. Almost killed me, what a joke."
She laughed. A laugh smeared in blood and ash. Her voice cracked, her limbs barely held together.
Her appearance was no longer that of a composed assassin. Her hair was wild. Her coat burned at the edges. Her skin was scratched and bleeding. She looked like war itself had chewed her up and spat her out.
But her mission was complete. She had to leave the building. And as always, no one would know her name. That... was how it was supposed to go.
And yet, despite her willingness, she couldn't move.
Her body, that well-honed weapon carved by training and trauma, refused to respond. The drive was still clutched against her chest, like a lifeline, a medal that no one would ever see. Her eyes blinked slowly, the smoke curling past her nose and mouth, thick with heat and chemical stench. She tried to stand.
Nothing.
Just the echo of a body too broken to obey.
Her breath hitched, her head pressing against the steel beneath her. Her fingers twitched. But only that.
It was over.
I'm going to die here.
The thought came... not panicked, not desperate. Just... cold.
She had always imagined death would come with fanfare. Some final defiant gesture. A blade drawn. A shot was fired. An enemy taken down with her last breath.
But this?
Crushed in a collapsing building, alone.
As it always was.
As it always had been.
Her gaze drifted to the ceiling, cracked and groaning, weak. Light filtered in through the ruined rooftop, trembling as dust danced through it. That light made her think.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
She had wanted to be famous. To be wanted, people need to know her name. Not in fear, not as a ghost, not whispered in the dark as a warning, but adored and cared for.
Popular.
That word once meant something different. To be popular wasn't just to be admired. It meant people cared when you walked into a room. That your voice mattered. That was when you spoke, and someone laughed. That people invited you. Waited for you.
Loved you.
But Yumiya Rakko had long since traded that dream for survival.
So what now?
"You're not dead yet, right?"
A voice.
Her breath froze. It wasn't mocking. It wasn't cruel. It was just there. Raw. Human.
Her eyes shifted, and there
Through the dust and shifting beams stood a boy. A school uniform draped over a battered frame, his black spiky hair a mess of soot and debris, like he had walked out of a losing fight with a furnace. A torn sleeve hung from his left shoulder, revealing bruised skin, grime, and blood.
But what caught her was his expression. It wasn't pity. It wasn't even shocking. It was... concern.
"Can you move?"
His voice again. Not loud. Not forceful. Just honest. Real.
Yumiya blinked. Her lips parted, a soundless breath escaping.
He took a step forward.
"I said..."
"I can't... move..." she rasped. She had to pretend to be weak. Weak as a knowledgeless student who got caught in an incident. And so she did
"Then I'll get you out," firm-toned, he promised to a stranger, she knew by instinct he didn't know her
Just like that.
He moved without hesitation, weaving between wreckage and fire like he had no reason to be afraid. His fingers wrapped around her arm, his other hand bracing her back.
She didn't understand.
He didn't know her. She didn't know him.
But he was here. Helping.
The weight of her body shifted against him. She wanted to protest, to say she was dangerous, that she didn't deserve this. But her voice was swallowed by the roar above them.
The ceiling cracked.
A section gave out. Too fast. Too loud. The boy twisted, pulling her with him
*Crash!*
Darkness. Rubble. Stone and metal.
The impact stole her breath. Her ears rang. For a moment, she thought she'd gone deaf. Then a groan. She opened her eyes. The boy was beside her, half-buried. His right arm... gone.
Blood seeped from the stump like a crimson flower.
She choked on air. Her hands shook. She tried to crawl to him, to help...
"Stop," he whispered.
She froze.
"Can you move?"
The same question. Again.
"I-I don't know," she said.
A bitter smile curled on his lips.
"Then try. Just try."
"Why...?" she whispered. "Why are you doing this!?"
He didn't look at her. He just stared at the smoke above, like it meant nothing. Like he'd seen worse.
"Because..."
His words came slowly, like he had to force them out through his pain.
"You looked like you needed help."
Simple.
No motive. No gain. No mission. Just a boy injured, bleeding, broken, giving her a reason to stand when everything else had taken it away. She didn't know his name. He didn't know hers. But somehow, in that ruined place, surrounded by death and dust, something human reached her. Something she thought had died long ago. It was incredulous to Rakko; she could just... leave him to die, and he wouldn't mind. His eyes told her that.
She gritted her teeth and she moved. Yumiya, not knowing she had been given a better chance. Yumiya did not comprehend that someone could offer a hand who was nothing but a stranger. Yumiya Rakko felt powerless to help a boy who seemed to be a regular student.
A/N: So this was the idea, and I should say once again, thank you for giving me permission, herlocksholmes21. I hope this captures your attention because man, I feel slightly drained. You'll probably see another one next two weeks, due to my exams, I need to prep for ot, maybe not. I'll figure out if I'll continue this soon. In the meantime, I need to try new ideas.