All Yukwon’s life consisted of lately was waiting around nondescript social places for marks. It was a coffee shop this time, dark and deserted in the early morning, and the gentle whir of the machines was his only company. A light was dying somewhere overhead, flickering fruitlessly as it struggled to burn the last of its energy.

 

This target was different. The Boss hyungs had contacted him with a special commission; a young man, around Yukwon’s own age, had caused a bit of a stir in the inner circles of the organization and needed to be eliminated. The pay was high, so Yukwon was more than happy to help.

 

Idly picking at the stuffing from his chair at the back of the room, he watched the door closely- cat-like eyes picking up every tiny movement. According to his contact, the target should be arriving any minute...

 

...now.

 

There was a jingle of rusted metal as the door swung open, and a tall, raven-haired man sauntered in.

 

Yukwon assessed his prey, much like the big cat he was. This man was tall and young, his clothes fitted and stylish. He had a confident, cool and calm exterior, and if he realised his life was about to be cut short, he was doing a remarkable job of not showing it.

 

This one was clever. Yukwon could deduce that from the way his eyes darted around the room, surveying his surroundings as he seated himself at a stool by the counter. The target’s eyes flashed briefly over Yukwon’s, once, twice, before settling on the barista as he took his order.

 

The Cat shifted, pulling the phone out of his pocket and comparing the contact’s photo with the mark in front of him. Perfect match. It was time to move.

 

He got up from his seat slowly, not wanting to startle the target in his sights, and made his way over to the counter. Yukwon debated on choosing the stool furthest away from the prey’s, to reduce suspicion levels, but the short eye contact previously had seemed too much like an invitation to ignore, and so he shrugged before hopping up onto the seat next to the mark. Something about this situation, the way the target didn’t even bat an eyelid in Yukwon’s direction, was unsettling the hitman slightly.

 

It was almost as if he knew Yukwon’s purpose here;

 

Knew he was going to die.

 

The killer settled his elbows on the wood, watching the target in his peripheral vision. The black-haired boy was staring intently at his cup, swirling the steaming liquid around idly. Nothing clicked. This guy was too relaxed, too sure of himself. Nothing made sense. Normally his marks were bustling, stupid fools who’d messed up society in some way through terrible policing, but this one was... well, Yukwon could almost call him serene.

 

His reverie was interrupted by a low voice, smooth and serious.

 

“I know why you’re here.”

 

The Cat rolled this around his brain for awhile, eyes still trained on the counter. Finally, he replied with a sigh.

 

“I didn’t doubt that.”

 

The two were enveloped in silence again, but now a barrier had been crossed, and there was no going back. The barista had disappeared into the back room, and the target seemed to find this an opportune moment to speak again.

 

“Is it always this hard?” The man’s voice lowered a few decibels, the tone soft and melodic to Yukwon’s ears. My, this mark really was different.

 

It also didn’t help that Yukwon had no idea what he was on about.

 

“What?”

 

The target finally turned to face him, and out of the corner of his eye, the hitman assessed his expression. Surprisingly, no traces of anguish or sorrow were found.

 

“Killing someone, is it always this hard?”

 

Yukwon’s brows furrowed slightly, but not enough that the target would notice. Still, the killer really didn’t know what this mark was talking about, or who he was referring to.

 

“Killing someone is never hard.” He replied after a while, his voice careful and moderated, eyes watching the door the barista had disappeared through. The prey seemed to think over this, but he knew better than to retaliate this time. Clever, clever boy.

 

Suddenly, the dark-haired man jumped down off his stool, and Yukwon’s muscles tensed. Sharp motions from his targets were never good, and they always spelled trouble, no matter what the circumstance was. Yukwon finally allowed himself a direct glance at the mark, only to find a small smile adorning his undoubtedly handsome face. The target was smiling. He knew he was going to die, and he was smiling. Yep, sudden movements always spelled trouble.

 

“Hey, Mr. Hitman.” The target called softly.

 

Yukwon flashed an eyebrow in response.

 

“I’ll see you around.”

 

Then, he was backing out of the door, still smiling and oozing charisma. The most surprising thing, however, was that Yukwon simply let. him. go.

 

He wasn’t stupid though. No, he knew he could have stopped the man if he’d wanted to. The truth was, he didn’t even plan on making an attack today. No, it was too soon, too sudden, too public.

 

He’d got what he came for, anyway.

 

 

-------

 

 

 

The mark didn’t stay true to his word: He didn’t end up seeing The Cat ‘around’. But Yukwon saw him.

 

Watching from rooftops was always considered such a stupidly stereotypical thing to do, but sometimes it was the best way to gain information, and research into a mark was probably one of Yukwon’s favourite things about a hit. It may be a boring trawl at first, but it made the end result so much more satisfying. Then, the death could be executed properly, involving something the target was close to, something the target trusted. Quick 5-second shoot-and-run’s were fun too, but there was nothing like the satisfaction of observing a mark’s face as they saw their world crumble in front of them, immediately before being put to death. 

 

That’s why Yukwon always watched, always waited, always judged. He was deciphering, from their interactions and body language, the best murder technique.

 

Apparently, this mark’s weakness was people.

 

He’d caused a stir, Yukwon remembered being told that. As he observed from a rooftop nearby, it was easy to see how the man could have penetrated into the inner, secret part of the organization: He was charismatic, he was friendly, he had the aura of someone to be trusted. Even the hardest Boss, the coldest senior, would have all of their hard-worn, hard-built walls utterly obliterated by a few words from the black-haired man’s mouth.

 

But not Yukwon, no, he’d never give in.

 

That’s why he waited; hours turning into days, days turning into weeks, for the right moment to strike. It was then that he realised his current method would never work.

 

Popularity. Popularity was the downfall of any hitman. If a mark had popularity, then more people were likely to miss him, and the more upset civilians, the more the police strived to find the killer. Yukwon knew that the police were fools, but they weren’t fools to obvious signs. If he chose to strike now, he’d be incarcerated before he even knew which way was up.

 

There was no doubt that the mark had told people about Yukwon, hell, there may even be people hunting Yukwon, and so an unexplained death would no doubt be solved pretty quickly- with all fingers pointing towards him. The killer thought, enjoying the feeling of taking time over a case. He loved things like this; scenarios that were tricky, difficult, hard to read, and involved more extensive planning and plotting than others. He enjoyed getting inside the hit’s mind, and slowly destroying them from the inside out. When people asked why he’d become a hitman, of all the jobs out there- well, Yukwon would spit on their shoes and walk away, but in his mind he’d reply that he loved the thrill of a chase. He loved the excitement, he loved the satisfaction, and he loved the money.

 

Still, there was no such thing as getting paid for an unexecuted hit, so once Yukwon had made up his mind about what he was going to do, he set about putting his plan into action.

 

The plan this time?

 

To get closer to his mark. Almost, dare he say it, like a friend.

 

 

 

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