A.N. I don't own RO, nor Gravity, so kudos to them for the game. Any real time coincidence with this story does not mean I know you. Any symbolism that you may find offensive, please tell me after you post a review. Lol.

Chapter 1 - Confessions

I don't think of myself as a bad guy. After all, I'm paid to do my work. There's no expertise required in my field of business…I think. It's just that I have to work 'round the clock sometimes, and I do get stressed out every now and then, but its perks are more worth it. I've spent a good number of years – and until now – taking side jobs, especially when my main profession can't feed me… especially after that "freak accident" I had in Thanatos Tower, but that's another story.

I unlock the door to my apartment room only to be greeted by an overwhelming and pungent smell. Crude oil. What can I say? You've got to keep your guns in-check when you're an assassin. No, I'm not referring to those old-fashioned katar-wielding, poison-loving assassins in the purple garb, nor their elites who happened to "transcend to the likes of the Valkyries and were given awesome powers after passing through the novice and thief profession for a second time." I'm what people consider a new-age assassin, a man with the skills of many professions and shaped in the way of shadows and deception… or something like that. Time's made all new things look cheesy. Mind you, though, that I've always praised my predecessors for their use of non-technological ways to achieve their goal. Heck, my idol assassin could extract snake venom from the fang through a straw and transfer it to a bottle. But that's not my style. I'm a gunslinger, an expert at that, but I don't brag. It's the kind with that secrecy crap and all that hobnob that comes along with it. Although, I'm not just an assassin; I can be hired for any job, depending on my own interest. Unlike most assassins, I have a mind of my own, and I can defy beyond clients' will if I wanted to. Oh yes, my mother raised an evil boy, and a grand Deceptionist did he turn out to be.

I move into my room, lazily throw my coat on the floor, take a seat and relax. It's been a long day and I deserve my rest. I let my hand hang freely after I rest my arm on the armrest of my chair. I feel something papery… mail, probably another job. I'll read it in the morning. I'm sure it's nothing important.

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She walked down the pebbled road quietly that afternoon. Her head was down, with her long red hair following it. In her hand she held a crumpled letter, a love letter to be exact with a strong aura of blank ink equivalent to "return to sender." A strong breeze passed by as she muffled a curse.

Um…I hope you feel the same about me. She remembered her own words as she handed the letter to her most infatuated upon.

I can't accept this, Mayla. Sorry. If it'll make you feel better, it's not about you. The words that tore her heart apart earlier that day just made its way in and out of her mind. She didn't cry unlike before, rather just remained quite about it, like a mature person would do. The fact that the whole academy new about her confession made it a lot worse for her. The worst part about it was that she was still dateless for the Festival Ball.

"Damn it," Mayla cursed again.

She reached her home, and directly went to her room, disregarding her father who called out a friendly "Hello!" and her little newborn brother crying. After slamming the door, she dropped her knapsack, dived for her bed, and soaked her pillow in tears. Now that she was home, she felt no need to trap emotions inside her. Nothing in the world right now could have made her feel better.

Or so she thought.

Mayla heard her door creak, and felt weight on the side of her bed. A comforting hand was placed on her back followed by an even more comforting voice. "Still no luck?"

She nodded albeit the moistness of her pillow. "It's hopeless, dad. I've probably asked every boy in our district, and the two others beside us, and still nobody wants to go with me." Mayla's voice was stifled but audible enough to understand. "Am I that horrible?" In reality, she was horrible. Mayla constantly failed subjects, and very anti-social. She had no real friends to talk to, and had a lot more enemies than illusionary friends. While she hasn't graduated from her novice class, Mayla took it a step further to learn mage skills and can currently wreak random elemental havoc due to her instability of concentration. What made up for this was that she was rather good looking, and a talented writer. She guessed that all the boys were too smart to take her out. Her father wouldn't have guessed any less than that.

"Well, sweetie, I guess I could set you–"

Mayla cut him off in mid sentence. "NO! I DON'T WANT ANOTHER OF YOUR MILITARY FRIENDS' SON TAKING ME OUT!" She shuddered as she reminisced about what had happened before.

Her father replied in a small voice, "Umm…about that, I already set you up with someone."

At that point, she had wanted to explode. Instead, she stayed silent and pretended to listen.

"For your information, it's not one of my 'military friend's son,'" he spoke matter-of-factly, "I met this young man through your aunt Jill. He's a very capable man, if you ask me. I asked her to ask him, but until now she hasn't received any reply yet. I'm sure you'll like him."

Yeah right, Mayla thought. Although she did favor the idea that her favorite relative tried to help, she didn't like the fact of being set-up. Then again, maybe some good could come out of it. Meeting somebody who has never really known her, and vice-versa, could finally give her a chance to catch the attention of her most infatuated upon, Raiyos, or Rai as most girls called him. The plan would be simple: get to meet the new guy, have a few good laughs together, and then use him to brush Rai's attention. It was just stupid enough to work.

Mayla lifted herself up to an upright sitting position next to her father. She turned to him with a thin smile and said, "Fine. I'll meet him when he can."