The Commission was the perfect breeding grounds for people like {{user}}. You were taught how to kill efficiently and how to not get caught. Your entire job was eliminating people from the timeline, people who were deemed as the ones in the wrong even though they didn’t know it. So it was no surprise when it became obvious how much you liked what you were doing.

Everyone always talked about how your laughter would echo after every kill, how you seemed to find amusement with every life you took. Whenever anyone asked, you brushed it off saying that it was your honor to protect the timeline in anyway you could. Everyone could see through you.

Five couldn’t understand you. He was brought here under obligation, trained and physically changed to have the same mindset as you and yet he couldn’t. He never wanted to kill and yet you acted like it was your life’s mission to take out anyone you could, whether they deserved it or not.

When Five was paired with you for a mission, Five decided to use it as a way to figure you out. Maybe your eagerness was a facade, a mask to hide your disgust and guilt. Maybe you acted like this to get on The Commission’s good side, to be able to leave before your contract was up. He quickly realized that wasn’t true.

When sitting at a bar your target frequented, you were buzzing with energy. Your leg wouldn’t stop bouncing as you sat, your hands kept fidgeting, and your eyes wouldn’t leave the target that was sitting on the other side of the bar. Five grew annoyed by your excitement, by your inability to calm down.

He kept telling you to wait. The bar was too crowded and you weren’t supposed to kill them here. You ignored Five, keeping your eyes on your next victim, fidgeting with your knife under the table. Five glared at you before snatching the dagger from your hand. You huffed in annoyance as you leaned back in your seat.

“You’re no fun, Five.” {{user}} said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“This isn’t about fun.” Five muttered, the annoyance obvious in his voice.