Warnings: Matt being Matt, which should be enough, but there's swearing. A lot of it.

Don't get involved. The only path of your target is to be shot by you. Feelings don't belong on the battlefield, Mail. Don't get emotionally involved with your target. Emotions will just complicate your mission. The only purpose your target has is to one day be taken down by you. Thanks, dad. Your advice is absolutely and irrevocably helpful for me. Easier said than done, asshole. I thought as I lined up my sights. I had gotten involved in what The Corps called 'the Idiot's Gambit'. Basically, I had gotten involved in an argument with my predecessor's advice. Which made no sense, but I didn't care and neither did anyone else. My scope was aimed on the blonde, my finger just about to pull the trigger-

"Mister, what are you going to do with your rifle?"

I kept my mouth shut. Don't respond. It's just a child. The child is not your target. Your target is the blonde. Get focused, dumbass! I fired the shot, missed the vitals, and swore. I hit the blonde in the shoulder. Oh well, I'd have to try again another day. The idiot child who distracted me had run off. Shit! I'm really in for it this time. I honestly cannot deal with this anymore. These eyes have seen enough blood for a lifetime.

"Paradox, don't tell me you screwed up again! The master's going to kill you!" I heard the second I got inside.

"Sharpshooter, if it weren't for some damn kid that fucking blonde would be on the ground, waiting for death. But there was a child and I got distracted, so you can fucking deal with it!" I snapped.

I had a headache and I really didn't have time to deal with this shit. Sharpshooter was really starting to get on my nerves. I mean, he was my successor, but did he have to be so annoying? Can't I just put a bullet in his brain and get a new one? Is that how this works? I felt two arms loop around mine and pull me forward. Wonder what my punishment is this time? A round of bullets was emptied into my shoulder, and two bullets landed in my knees. I felt my kneecaps snap and I would've fallen over had it not been for the arms supporting me.

"Take the idiot to be treated. Oh, and Paradox? Don't try to run, because you can't. And don't fuck up again, or I'll break more than your knees."

I felt myself being dragged into my room. The bullets were painfully removed and Sharpshooter was waiting for me to move. I didn't. I decided to be the epitome of a poker face. My goggles were unharmed, thank god. Sharp was waiting for me still.

"C'mon, Paradox, you have to move. There's food ready and they said you have to get up to get it."

"Then I don't want any damn food, Sharp!" I seriously didn't want to move.

Sharp leaned in to whisper in my ear.

"Word on the street is that you actually did hit your target."

"I missed their head. Got the shoulder."

"A hit's a hit. Better than missing completely, right? If you're lucky, the bastard will die and you can move on with your life."

"S'different for you. You just point and throw your knife. You don't see the final product. I get to see brains explode through my quick-scope. It's actually quite entertaining."

"Hey, 'Dox?"

"Yeah?"

"You're twisted. Like seriously, that's disgusting."

"Once you've been a sniper as long as I have, your sense of humor gets seriously sick and twisted."

I rolled onto my hands and tried to walk on them to dinner. I gave up and just flopped over. Sharp picked me up, even though he was probably going to get beaten for it later, and carried me to dinner.

"Hey, Paradox! Heard you got your knees knocked pretty damn bad!"

"I'm not walking for a while, Clubs."

"Didn't think so! You hit your target, at least?"

"Their brains didn't end up painted all on the walls, but I hit them."

I ate my dinner one-handed, which was a feat to be spoken of simply because dinner was a chicken-and-rice make-it-yourself taco. Clubs gave me a hand and held my plate still.

"Trigger finger or-"

"I fucked up pretty damn bad, Clubs. I've got to get out of here."

"Hey man, if the Master hears you saying that-"

"My ass is as good as handed to me on a platter already, Clubs. I'm as good as dead."

"How can you tell, Paradox? You aren't even thirty, are you?"

"Nope, but I've been in this business to know when I'm fucked. And I'm pretty damn screwed."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Since I was eight. I'm twenty-three now, Clubs. That's fifteen years. I'm done for. Kaput. Up the creek without a paddle. I hit my target in the shoulder and this is my punishment. Imagine what would've happened if I missed."

"You'd probably be dead if you missed, bro. Is it true, though, what they say? That once the Master's done with you, you're as good as dead?"

"Ah shit, I didn't think about that when I signed up. I only thought about taking care of Violin, and look how that turned out. She's dead and I'm still stuck here."

Clubs laughed and clapped my uninjured shoulder. My rifle was still slung over my injured one. I laughed with him and enjoyed what was probably my last meal. I could see it in Clubs' eyes that he knew I was dead. I had another target to get rid of, and I sure as shit couldn't do that with my kneecaps so busted I couldn't walk. Sharp helped me limp back to my bed and I just sat there.

"Sharp, you might be stuck here sooner than you think. You can still get out, bro. I'm as good as dead. I got a job I need to get done, and it's not happening with my knees as busted up as they are."

"No, Paradox. You can't die on me! I still don't know everything I need to! I'm too green, and you're too young-"

"If age mattered, I wouldn't be here. I'd be at college, like a respectable twenty-three year old. I'd never have learned how to shoot a sniper rifle at the age of eight. My little sister wouldn't be dead and I wouldn't be here."

Sharp just looked shocked. He set my kneecaps again and bound them so tightly it hurt. My shoulder was still bleeding with I fell asleep, and I woke up to hospital machinery. Although, the ceiling was the same. I was still in the Corps building. Sharp was staring out of one of the blackout windows, his handgun taken apart and soaking to get the blood off of it. I smiled at my apprentice. He was doing well, even for an insufferable idiot. His black eyes were only accentuated by his white hair, and-

No. I couldn't get side tracked. I had a mission to do. I started to get up, when a hand suddenly appeared on my chest. Oh shit. This is-

"You aren't going anywhere, Paradox. That much is obvious. Perhaps this time you'll actually listen and not fail your mission. Oh, that's been put off for a few weeks due to your recent failure. Perhaps you should think about your target, not some child who means nothing."

"I got distracted. It won't happen again."

"It had better not, or else your punishment will be worse than broken kneecaps and the equivalent to what your target received. And you're obviously not dying, so I have to clean up your mess."

"Sorry, sir. It won't happen again, sir."

He turned on his heel and left, his auburn hair bobbing out of sight. I breathed out tension I didn't know I had. Sharp's eyes had been drawn to my bandaged-but-otherwise-bare chest. Actually, he was staring at the alarming amount of blood seeping through said bandages. I heard him call for help before little red spots flashed in my vision and I fell into unconsciousness. When I woke up, Clubs was watching over me and Sharp was gone.

"Where the hell is Sharp?"

"He's off on a mission. I know, I know, he's not supposed to be on missions without a seasoned Corps member. Fox is with him. They're cleaning up your mess. You know, trying to find the kid that distracted you so it doesn't happen again."

You're the cause for a young child's death. Why does that bother you so much? You're a cold-hearted killer. You don't matter. For once, I didn't have an answer for the idiotic questions in my head.

"It's strange, we kill without a second thought. But Sharp, he can't do that. I hear him praying at night, Clubs. He's not cut out for this."

"None of us are really cold-hearted murderers like the master wants. We're all just useless."

"And nobody gets out unless they're 'released'. Looks like I'm screwed."

"Well, maybe the jackass has a use for you. Or maybe you're just so useless it's hilarious having you around. I don't know, I'm not fucking Einstein. I kill when I have to. I pray to whatever the hell's up there later for salvation so I can still be buried a good man."

"You can still be buried as one? That's terrifying."

Clubs laughed and I laughed with him.

"I know, shocking, isn't it?"

"It's absolutely horrifying."

Fox wasn't due back for another three days. So, when she came rushing in, holding a blood-covered Sharp, I naturally flipped all kinds of shit. Sharp was my responsibility, my only family. Well, Fox was like a sister, but she wasn't Violin. Violin's name was Linda. She was like my little sister. We were two street kids looking to get out of the slums. I got out. Linda died trying. I didn't know Fox's real name. Her brother, Light Yagami, ran the local syndicate. So, of course, all of the fucked-up street kids came running. I met Clubs when I was twelve, and Fox came into the syndicate when she was three. Clubs was her brother. Sharp was her cousin or something. She had tears on her face (she was only nine) and blood all over her. She handed Sharp to Clubs and went to get the blood off of her.

"Fox, would you mind coming here for a second?"

She came over to my bedside.

"What happened, sweetie?"

"We got the job done, b-but Sharp wasn't looking, and he-he got hit by a c-car and there was blood e-everywhere!" More tears streaked her bloody face.

She wasn't cut out for this business. Fox was too kind-hearted, and the kid to kill couldn't have been any older than seven. Clubs was supposed to take care of her, and he did just that. Fox wanted to help him, so when anyone came back broken, she would immediately gravitate towards them and do her best to fix whatever had happened. Honestly, I don't know why she wasn't called Glue or Band-Aid or something like that. It just seemed ridiculous to call a nine-year old Fox, especially since she couldn't lie to anyone. She promised Clubs she wouldn't, and she always told the truth. Her eyes were big and orb-like. Clubs had black hair and red eyes. His back was hunched over, like someone had bent him all out of shape. I think his real name was Lawliet or something starting with L. Sharp's real name was Nathaniel Rivers.

"Fox, come here!" I heard the master yell.

Fox jumped, brushed as much of the blood off of her face as she could, and ran into the meeting room. I heard the master hug her and tell her she did a good job, that God would forgive her for her sins because she was a child. She just thanked him. When he dismissed her, she ran to Clubs. Sharp had several broken ribs, a lot of bruising, and his nose was bleeding like mad. He was also unconscious. I heard a disgustingly sickening cracking noise when she set his nose, and his unconscious screaming when she bound his ribs. She made a face but kept on with her silent work. Why would you bring her here, Clubs? What the hell is your logic there?