Chapter Text
She would never tire of this energy coursing through her as she stood on stage. She was a stealth hero, always in the shadows, wearing disguises, eavesdropping on conversations, disappearing for months at a time…but right here, right now, was one of the rare times she allowed herself to be seen, once a month in this dive bar’s open mic night. She took a deep breath before strumming the first chord of the song on her guitar. A hush fell over the crowd as she paused for dramatic effect, a grin spreading across her face. She played the intro chord progression, and then finally opened her mouth to sing.
***
“Decent turn out tonight, eh Ji?” The bartender was preparing a drink.
“The perfect turn out. Large enough to be energetic, small enough to stay intimate...so…is he here tonight?”
He was done preparing the drink, a lychee sake with a splash of champagne, or as he called it, the Ji-special. It was her favorite drink, how he or his patron found out, she wasn’t sure. He slid it over to her.
“If he wasn’t do you really think I’d be serving this to ya? You should know by now, I don’t give drinks on the house.” He smirked as he delivered his usual line “One Ji-special, ordered and paid for by your mystery man.”
She looked over to the corner where he usually sat during her sets, he would have sunglasses on even though they were indoors and it was nighttime. He would have a beanie which covered his head, a bandana which masked his mouth, and he always wore a black running jacket. She was creeped out at first, after all he successfully guessed her favorite drink, but the bartender vouched for him, saying he trusted the guy, and that he just sincerely enjoyed Ji’s talent. Jirou would have confronted him by now, except he was always gone before she got down from her set, all that was left was the lone cocktail.
“Thanks Hyu. I’ll see you next month!”
Jirou headed home to her shared apartment with her best friend Momo, getting there at around 2:00am. Momo was used to it and didn’t wait up anymore, there was no point when you couldn’t predict the times a stealth hero would come home. She laid down in bed, pulled out a journal and wrote
‘I search for you in a crowded room, do you feel that energy too? I do, but the energy I feel from you, feels intimate with just us two. When will I meet you mystery man? Or is it not a mystery, just all according to your plan?’
She put the journal down, intending to refine the song lyrics later. She settled comfortably, closed her eyes, and willed herself to sleep, but sleep doesn’t come easy to the broken hearted.