Chapter Text
Staring at the envelope placed upon the table, you contemplate whether or not to open it. A few moments of hesitation pass before you decide to tear the seal. Taking out the neatly folded paper, you skim through the excessive formalities to reach the point of the letter. Finally seeing the bolded print at the bottom of the page, it reads “Class A: Rank 25.” A sigh escapes you. So you’ve been promoted, what now?
Perhaps you need some fresh air; you shouldn’t stay in your apartment all day. Gently tossing the letter to the side, you turn towards the door. The katanas residing in the corner of the room catch your eye. With your hand lingering on the doorknob, you gaze at the pair. You blink, shaking your head. Today you do not want to play the part of the hero. Turning the knob, you decide your casual clothes are enough to go out in. Glancing behind you once more, the door clicks shut.
♠ ♠ ♠
Strolling through the tree-covered park, you appreciate the nice weather. The sun blazes from above, but is accompanied by a cool breeze. The calm atmosphere reminds you why you came out here: to clear your head and think.
“Class A: Rank 25.”
Not many can say they’ve attained the status of Class A, let alone ranking at 25. It’s a remarkable feat, something you should be proud of. Instead, you feel rather apathetic about the ordeal. Sure, the money was nice to have, but is being a hero really something you want to do? Dismissing the thought, you halt your walking. No, being a hero is a noble profession. Putting your life on the line and saving civilians- you should be grateful you’re strong enough to help others. Yet, despite your reassurances, a vexed feeling still resides.
“This is the Class S Hero, King!” A voice, which sounds as though it belongs to a child, interrupts your train of thought. As you approach the clearing, you spot the aforementioned child. Though, there is another conversing with him on the park bench. Studying the other closely, you notice he appears to be around 18 or 19, with spiky white hair and a muscular physique.
You glance between him and the kid. Based on the child’s body language and way of addressing the other, you assume that they are strangers. A slight inkling of suspicion arises in the back of your mind. You listen closely as the man finally speaks up.
“I’d like to get his autograph. You should take me to your neighborhood.”
Every alarm bell starts to go off in your head. Hero or not, you should make sure the young boy is safe. Striding up to the pair, you address the child.
“Hey, do you know this man?” You gesture to the other. As the kid glances between you two, the person in question shoots you a piercing glare. The sudden feeling of vulnerability creeps along your skin as you remember you did not bring your swords.
“No, I-” The older male interrupts the kid.
“What’s your problem? We’re just talking.” His glare remains unmoved. It’s returned with your own skeptical stare.
“I’m just checking. After all, you’re a shady looking guy.”
“Uh, e-excuse me,” the child pipes up. “We were just talking about heroes. That’s all, really.” Observing the kid, you come to the conclusion that he wasn’t lying. Though, you’re still not comfortable leaving him alone with a stranger- especially one that looks like a thief.
“See? You heard the brat.” The man smirks, an air of justification around him. You wish you could slap the smugness right off his face.
“Heroes, hm?” That’s all you’re able to muster. The young boy looks up at you with excitement.
“Yeah! Heroes are really cool, aren’t they?” He flips through a few pages of his book.
A weak smile appears on your face. “Sure are, kiddo.”
Glancing back to the man, you observe him looking over the kid’s shoulder at the hero almanac. Then, in one swift motion, he snatches the book from the child.
“Whoa, the monsters are listed here too!” His exclamation is met with confused stares from both you and the boy. You conclude that this man is very unusual.
“You like the monsters, mister?” The boy speaks up first. “I think they’re pretty scary….”
“The scarier the better.” He continues to flip through the pages, studying it carefully. Yep, this guy is definitely a weirdo. “I wish I were listed here,” he continues. The way he phrased that strikes you as odd. Though, you can’t quite place why his statement was slightly unsettling.
Shoving the book back into the kid's lap, he stands up. “Well, time to head out.” Turning to you, he adds, “If that’s not an issue for you.” His haughty attitude receives a glare from you.
“Do as you please,” you say through gritted teeth.
“See you around brat, rulebook,” he snickers. You watch him leave until he is no longer in sight.
To say you do not care much for the nickname he's given you would be an understatement. Frowning, you stare at where the man once stood. His cockiness pisses you off more than you would like to admit. Taking a deep breath and extra care to not show your irritation, you focus your attention on the child.
“I’ll walk you home, alright? Next time be careful when talking to strangers.”
The child shyly nods. Together, you start the trek towards his neighborhood. You notice that every now and then he looks up at you, seemingly wanting to say something. Sighing, you ask:
“What is it?”
He hesitates before answering. “Um, you wouldn't happen to be (H/N), would you?” You freeze, his question catching you off guard. Pausing, you think a moment before responding.
“Yes, that's me.” A pang of guilt hits you, though you're unsure as to why. You’re unable to dwell on this for long, for the child speaks up once more.
“Can I have your autograph?” He holds up his book and a pen to you.
“Sure.” You quickly sign the page and return it to him. “Now, it’s getting late. You better hurry home.”