Yusol. (2)

June 12th, 202x.

18:00:44

'Target 1 entered the building. Seems to be waiting for me.'

18:02:18

'Target 2 enters. Also waiting for me.'

18:06:41

'Both targets meet. Each assumes the other is me.'

18:07:01

'Both targets find out I'm not there. Target 1 acts hostile to target 2. Both move according to plan.'

18:07:34

'Both targets are cleared and KIA. Mission complete.'

–

Perhaps it was an over exaggeration. Because, of course it was. Blowing at the not even steaming barrel of the sniping gun was just something a boaster would do, and he was not one of them. Yet he does so, slightly nostalgic of a past he never experienced.

Then again, that was it for him.

Choi Yusol.

He's not Choi Yusol. At least not when he's up at the roof, sniping down a murderer when said man shoots at another of its kind.

He was "-", but you wouldn't know him either, so why should he tell it? the uprising agent of a government agency. An icon in the world of aspiring government fighters. A bitter perfectionist in the eyes who's met him, albeit they were far from alive once they have seen him.

The redhead packs his equipment up. He only carries his school bag and guitar case. A guitar case that contains his beloved SVD Dragunov. The rifle, gifted to him by his boss. Heavy, but sturdy.

He's not skilled with it yet. Shooting with weapons. One bullet was for one bird, not two. Albeit he would certainly master splitting bullets with ease in just a short time.

He's pleased enough there were people who'd help him through his mastery.

He thought briefly of saying something cool as the wind blows on his hair, as he removes his headphone from one of Mozart's classics, 'Eine Kleine Nachtmusik', obnoxiously blasting at his ears. Because classical music was the perfect combination to jobs like this. Because he believes so. Yet he keeps his lips shut, deciding against it.

Dusting up his school uniform, having worn it since he just finished his extracurriculars, the teen grumbles. The school likes to keep the good kids around, just to show how 'driven' they are to study. It was annoying to keep up being a good kid and an agent. He was not fit for this.

But at least today was the last day of school. He'll have his holiday soon.

He was elected Student Body Head for the next academic year. A job that was described to be fun, and interesting. If anything though, the teen knows it would suck the life out of him.

Yusol walks home. He glances at the stickers one of his friends decorated all over the guitar case that was slung over his shoulder, before reminding himself of his actual school related bag. So he also carries a bag he holds so gingerly with a grip of his palm. This was his Roman empire after work.

The redhead would give so much to go home with his instruments, equipment fully intact, and he does. He would give much more to come home to a lively home, yet his host family seem to still be away.

"I'm home."

He whispers, as the crevices of the home lit up from the kitchen's fluorescent lights turning on.

Oh, at least he's graduating to grade 11 now. That's something to celebrate over this weekend, at least, if there's no job to do.

Because grade 10 was hell for him.

–

Year 202x, August 11.

Imagine Yusol's dismay, first weeks into being the Student Head, when this incompetent ass teacher was just zoning out at him when he was explaining things.

The redhead hates it when his day does not go as planned. He has a task today. Exactly at 8:20, and if this.. Arel guy was going to keep zoning out, it'll be 8:14 soon.

There's 5 more rooms to go.

He can do this.

"..check stats.."

Yusol could feel his eyes twitch when he heard a faint mutter from the adult. He was about to snap at Arel, but considering how this was a new teacher and a replacement would definitely not be easy to find, he just sighs.

He needs to be cool. He's the student head now.

…

He was able to keep it together.

Seems like Arel knows when to focus this time.

They pass by the barrage of learners who made way for Yusol and Arel. Albeit not necessarily bowing their heads, they just moved to the window side of the hallways while the two went past the locker side.

Wait, what's with that look?

Yusol discreetly raised an eyebrow, wondering at the shocked expression of the older when the other students made way for them. This is how the Student Head rolls, and everyone knows that.

However, it is 8:18. Yusol could see the faint outline of someone running towards them, crashing around. He shields the adult behind him, holding a hand out to stop the running figure. His target has shown itself.

"If you don't mind, Mr. Arel.."

He pauses, glancing back at the new substitute teacher, who seem taken aback once more.

"I have an urgent meeting to attend. I'll be right back."

Yusol spoke, practically trapping the previously running figure with his arms. Arel was wide open. In terms of stance and mouth. Geez, what's up with him? There's no fighting drive at all, despite having a body almost perfectly made for war.

The redhead walks off, dragging his target from the collar effortlessly. The target, completely vulnerable and unable to break free from his grasp.

"Don't worry. You're not dying today."

The Student Body Head verbalised to the absolutely scared target. Today was not a murder day. Today was a saving day, for the lack of better phrases.

Though it's always going to be annoying when plans don't work at whims, and when plans have other plans piled on top, i.e Arel.

Still, he made it on time.

8:20:00

Target acquired and secured.

He still needs to go back to Arel, but he'll take his time.

No, actually, there's no need to go back to that teacher. Yusol knows a jerk would voluntarily take over.