73, 74, 75.

The young boy counted every silent step as they grew closer and closer towards the dark stage that loomed over the far end of the noisy hall.

85, 86, 87.

Closing his eyes tight, he made certain he wouldn't see anyone or anything as he was dragged through the crowd by the idiot who had agreed to this short crusade in exchange for the clearing of his debts.

98, 99, 100.

From hearing Them talk, the boy knew that the idiot was the son of an important support company's CEO who had drowned himself in loans. But that was just the usual wasn't it.

112, 113, 114.

People like that always believed that they were special, that they were immortal. They believed that they could get off scot free just for doing a simple task for Them, the idiots.

129, 130, 131.

The two of them were now almost at the stage. Despite the boy's lack of sight he had no question about it. Just a few minutes and... Well, he would be the only one alive again. His quirk, his voice, the death of a 100 more innocent people

143, 144, 145.

Clenching his eyes tighter, the young boy tried his best not to cry, if he did, someone might notice. Someone might notice and make what he had to do that much harder. Or cause Them to punish him, and he... he couldn't handle that.

150, 151, bam!

He gasped silently in shock as something, no someone ran straight into him, knocking him off of his feet and out of the idiots hand. Looking up, he instantly regretted not having kept his eyes closed. Across from him sat a girl who was rubbing her head as she looked up towards him, a girl with bright red hair and soft green eyes who was easily the same age as him.

"Hey! What do you think you are doing brat!" The young boy flinched, looking up at the idiot he could tell that the man was angry, just as angry as he was nervous.

"M-my apologies," the girl stuttered out in a formal tone as she quickly stood up and bowed to the man like her parents had likely shown her to do. Turning her attention back away from the idiot she moved quickly towards where the boy had fallen and reached her arm out to him, "I'm sorry for knocking you over. My name's Moriko. Are you okay? "

The boy just stared at her in shock, unable to tear his eyes away from her bright smile and kind face. She would die. He was no longer able to stop the tears from spilling out of his eyes, as he watched the confused girl standing there, still smiling brightly as she held out her arm for him. She would die, he knew it, and he hated it.

A strong hand wrapped around his wrist and roughly pulled him back up onto his feet, yanking him out of his silent moment of shock. "We don't have time for this, leave us alone brat," the idiot spit out, venom lacing his words. He once again began walking, dragging the boy behind him faster than before as the two quickly approached and climbed the steps that led up onto the stage, much to the staff's usual complaint. Even then he couldn't help but to continue staring at Moriko, the wonderful kind girl that was soon to die.

A microphone, a Death bringer was shoved roughly into his hands by the idiot, "hurry up brat, your voice is supposed to put everyone to sleep right? So do it."

No you idiot, The boy thought as tears flowed down his face in steady streams, clenching his hands tight around the Death bringer, it does more than just make people sleep.

Still staring at Moriko who was now talking with who the boy assumed to be her mother, he closed his eyes. The boy knew he had no choice, "I... I'm sorry."

It didn't take very long, a second, maybe two, before he could hear the first body fall. Before the screams rang out, ending the short moment of confused silence that had consumed the hall's noisy ambiance as he had spoken.

The boy allowed his legs to finally buckle underneath himself as he clamped his hands over his ears and wrapped his wings and tail tightly around himself as if to hide from the death that surrounded him.

He should be used to this by now, They had used him as a weapon so many times, but he just couldn't. How many people had died because of him, how many kids just like himself, just like Moriko?

It was silent now, not even a minute after he had spoken. Nothing moved under death's cold embrace, not even the wind, as the boy silently cried in hatred and fear.

It seemed as if nothing could break the boy's lonely world, until a door slammed open. Where there was once silence, footsteps could now be heard running across the hall, around the dead bodies, towards the stage. The boy stood slowly, wiping the last tears from his eyes as he shakily looked up and saw the pickup guy running towards the stage, his noise canceling headphones securely in place as if he thought the boy might try something.

Pulling his wings back tight against his back the boy began to slowly make his way back towards the stage's stairs, towards the running man, towards the pickup guy.

The boy hates him, hates the group he works for and what they force him to do. However there is one thing he hates even more, his own voice. He had to follow this guy just long enough for the mask to once again block his voice, for him to be taken back to the group's base and into his cell, back to where he wouldn't have to worry about his voice, and wouldn't have to worry about getting in trouble or the terrifying consequences that might bring.

.oOo.

So hello to the 9 some odd followers I had preveiously, and whoever else has decided to read this. Its been what two years now? Well more like one and a half but that honestly doesn't matter all that much. I am rewriting this, yay! I was binge watching the anime for the new years, and then I was like oh yeah! I was writing a fanfic, better give them an update. Yeah well you are getting a rewrite instead sorry. I feel like the mc, a child, acted more akin to an adult than the actual adults, sooooo. Welp hope you enjoyed this never before seen first chapter.

~Chrysilis