Darkscythe Drake
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Assassin Among Heroes CH 32 preview
🕑 Added 2024-09-13 21:06:39 +0000 UTC“As busy as ever, eh?” I glance at the masses of people wandering the complex. Nothing changed since the last time; still full of people going around and buying whatever they want or need.
“It’s a mall during the weekend, Ritsu,” my mom replies. She’d gone for a greenish-gray coat over a black top and a thin dress. “What else did you expect?”
I shrug. “Nothing, maybe that’s the problem.”
She raises an eyebrow before shaking her head. “I swear, one of these days…” she mutters, then claps as her voice turns chipper. “Well, I’ll be off to do some errands while you have your fun with Jirou and her friends.”
“What kind of errands?”
“I’ve been working at home for a week Ritsu, there are some things I need to restock.”
“Uh-huh…” Why do I sense that most of the restocking will happen at a clothing store? For all that she denies, and I’ve rarely seen her wear anything other than a suit at work or super-casual at home, Mom loves clothes shopping as much as any other woman. She’s got taste, I’ll give her that, but I’d be more tolerant about it if she didn’t use me as a mannequin for all the male clothes in the stores.
“Oh? Is little Ritsu thinking bad thoughts about his dearest mother, who took such tender care of him as he lay sick and bleeding in the house?” She gasps exaggeratingly with a hand on her breast. “If I wasn’t so concerned with your social life, I’d weep in sorrow!”
“And you wonder why we don’t go out much,” I deadpan, to which she scoffs at me, smiling all the way. I roll my eyes and look around until I land on the big clock beside me.
“Ah, Jirou said she’ll be here any minute.”
Mom idly nods and gets close to me, before looking me up and down. Her smile fades a little as she fingers the straps on her handbag.
“I know we agreed that you’re feeling better, but the instant you start feeling uncomfortable or feel pain, call me. Promise?”
I go silent for a moment, then nod. I need to let this fully heal, which means I can’t disobey Mom’s orders. “Promise.”
She smiles and pats my cheek. “Now, remember to smile, stand up straight and speak clearly. Girls like that. Oh, and send me pictures!”
“If you limit yourself to one shirt, I’ll consider it.”
She gives me a strange look, like I told her to swallow a cockroach, and shakes her head, “Ever the cheeky one…” she mutters before turning around and waving. “Have fun!”
I wave back until she disappears into the crowd. I lower my hand and pull out my phone, tapping Jirou’s contact.
‘You there?’ I type.
As I wait for a reply, my throat dries up and for some reason, I tap my foot. Cool your jets Ritsu, it’s just Jirou and her friends…who are all from U.A…the top hero school…who will make it their life’s mission to throw you in Tartarus the moment they can.
I shake my head fiercely. This is not the time to spiral into planning! Swallowing, I take a few quick breaths. Why the hell am I on edge? It’s just an outing, nothing more. Expect lame jokes about your hair and you’ll be right as rain.
My phone dings. ‘Yeah. Where are you?’
I hesitate, but only for a second. ‘In front of the big clock, next to that fountain.’
Pocketing the phone, I scan the multitude of on-goers for any familiar hairline. A minute later, a hand sticks out and waves at me.
“Oi Ritsu, over here!”
Hooray for super-hearing!
I walk in the call’s direction and soon come face-to-face with a familiar face framed by dangling lobes. Jirou takes a few steps before she looks me up and down as her lips creep into a smile. “I’ve gotta say, you clean up good.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I just thought hoodies were a part of your natural shell.”
Oh, ha-ha. “They’re useful and comfortable, don’t diss them!” Yes, I like hoodies, but I’m not some basement-dwelling hacker! But you could call the hideout a basement - not now!
She mock-surrendered even as she giggled. “Alright, yeesh! Did they spike your meds back in the old folks’ home?”
“Nah,” I replied, adding a little Kansai drawl to my words. “But them young’uns drive me up the wall with their antics!” I shake my fist as I hiss, making her guffaw.
“Okay, that was good. But seriously, you’ve got good taste.”
“That’s more my Mom’s taste than mine, but thanks, you too.” I’m not lying; that zebra-striped overshirt suits her.
I swear she blushed for a second, but I didn’t get a chance to dwell on it. “So, how did that report turn out?” she asks.
“Report?”
“You know, the one you asked me to help you on late at night during the internship?” What was she - oh!
“Uh, I didn’t get it back yet, but what you gave me was really helpful, thanks! My teacher really liked it when I mentioned your help, said it made it more ‘authentic’.” My bullshitting skills are increasing daily if I can spew something like that in a second.
“Happy to help.” She looks around and I see her earlobes twitch. Could she hear out of those? “I can’t see the others yet, they should be here any second.”
“Your classmates? The ones from the Sports Festival, right? They seem like a…” I tried to find the appropriate word, recalling what I had seen on the festival broadcast. “Colorful lot.”
She chuckles with a tinge of exasperation. “You don’t know the half of it.”
I shoot a half-smile at her as silence settles over our little space. We don’t break each other’s stares, but none of us are willing to say anything else. Wow, I did not expect the flow of conversation to die this quickly.
Please tell me Mom isn’t spying on me around the corner.
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