At the Holy Knights Headquarters
Whenever he closed his eyes, he would recall it clearly. The scene of him locked away in that facility that conducted experiments on children. But unlike the other children in that place, he not only had experiments conducted on him, but they raised him as an assassin.
They raised him as an assassin who would kill without a second thought. They raised him as a spy who could blend in with a normal crowd so it would be easier for him to kill.
He was a child, but how many lives did he take in the span of a few seconds? How many did he kill just because they ordered him?
His days in that place were the same every second of every minute of every hour. The same routine that trained them as killers, a training to get rid of their emotions.
He did not realize this until he left that place. But the training they made him do daily was not just to train his fighting ability but also deprived him of any hope of love, dreams, and affection.
'Repeat after me; we were objects. Expendable ones at that
If we fail, we will be replaced. We live for our mission.'
That dialogue was part of their daily routine.
It was that simple; their individual lives contained no value whatsoever.
Unlike other children, he occasionally noticed a few things despite being emotionless. 'Oh, that kid from before is not here anymore. But what was his name, and what did he look like?'
He can't remember much. Can't remember anything about that kid other than the fact that he was strangely bursting with energy all the time.
Oh yes, he was annoying. That kid always spoke about becoming the hero of justice who would save people with his ability. But one day, that cheerful kid disappeared. Since he knows this much, perhaps they were close.
But a feeling like this is wrong; he should not have emotions. He must discard it right away.
Their days would continue this way until their death. As secret assassins, their only purpose was their mission. If they fail, they are to take their lives in case any information gets leaked to their enemies. If they fail and return, they will experience something worse than death.
He does not know what that something is, but he would occasionally hear screams from that chamber.
That is all there was to our lives. No one would remember them. The only way they would release us is we no longer have use. No, not being useful is not enough to leave. They have to be deemed not a threat; that is the only reason why they would let anybody go.
The third option would be to take on a long mission outside. But even then, wouldn't that mean a day different than usual? He wonders what they'll have him do. Will he meet someone from the outside? Or will he die without ever having interacted with one?
No matter what he thinks, he must do what he expected. He was just another puppet.
They can only survive in this place with stone-cold walls. They were 'nothing' after all.
"No--, what are you doing? Move."
They call him by number.
He does have a name; it is the name his parents gave him. They took him away from his parents, and he was kidnapped. He does not remember the details clearly, but he was on some type of business function with his parents, and there was an attack. His mother shielded his brothers, and so did his father, but nobody shielded him.
Then he woke up in this place. He woke up as number four thousand and eight hundred and fifty-five. He woke up as a 'number' and a puppet, someone with no identity.
'My name, my name is-'
"Are you going, or do we have to drag you?" The researcher snapped as he clicked his tongue.
The look in his eyes was like he was staring at garbage.
"Yes, sir. "
Today was yet another repeat of yesterday. His heart feels empty. He feels absolutely nothing. At this rate, he will truly become a doll and nothing.
If he continues this training, then he will become just like the rest of them-discarded dolls.
Maybe that was why he suddenly turned to escape.
It was on that day he escaped the assassin training headquarters and met that girl.
++
His eyes snapped open. He realizes that what he just saw was a dream, not a past nightmare. Or was it a bit of both? That was the day he met the lady. Later, when he returned that day, he did get beat up, but his thoughts remained on that meeting.
From that day onwards, he had to put on a face. That single meeting with the lady led to him having 'emotions' when he realized that he took careful steps to ensure people did not find out.
It did little to ease himself. His whole body drenched in sweat from head to toe, and the collard shirt was sticking to his clothes.
He stands up, slips it off, and walks over to the window. The bright light drew his attention immediately. It's already night, and yet he doesn't recall how he even got here.
What was he doing? How did he get back? His present state was a muddle. But one thing remained clear to him, the dream from just now. Well, wasn't that a trip down memory lane? He would never have guessed he would end up this way. Someone famous, someone with a name for himself, a family, and even friends.
'I now even have somebody I love.' An emotionless doll-like him actually has deep affectionate feelings towards another human being.
'Confessing to her now is dangerous.' He recalled Mamoru's words and sighed deeply. It's not like he doesn't understand. Mamoru confines in him a lot because of this too. He understands it; right now, that girl finds love and affection a burden.
No matter how many people are
Masaru picked up his phone and saw the caller ID. "Mamoru."
"I made a trip to the hospital. I called your cell earlier, but you seemed busy."
"I see; how did it go?"
"He thinks I'm getting worse, 'If your going to be stubborn, at least avoid doing serious jobs.'"
"Will you listen?"
It was a stupid question; he had already heard about the recent cases. Cases of that scale will acquire people on the lady's level. In other words, Mamoru would not leave her alone.
"At least rest during the weekends. Tell the lady you do not feel well."
"I know, and also, hey Masaru. Don't be too harsh on yourself."
Huh? Before he could say anything else, the phone call ended. Masaru stared at it and sighed. That guy does everything at his own pace; only the lady can handle him.
'Don't be too harsh on yourself, huh?' It's not like he does it deliberately. He is not the type of person who would pity himself. He does not dismiss his childhood and acknowledges everything that happened.