The cycle didn't just begin.
It's been going since the start of time itself.
Not always a circle, per say, but never ending, always looping.
This?
This is just another cycle.
Red.
It was all he could see.
No. That's wrong. It wasn't red. It was….deeper. Darker. Metallic and glossy, reflecting the light at every angle.
Crimson.
It would stain. He knew that. They would never be able to scrub it off the white tile. Not completely. It would probably have to be replaced. If they would ever be able to reopen the place at all, that is.
Wait.
Why was he worried about the tile?
Oh. Right.
It wasn't the tile he was worried about. It was the color. The crimson fluid that covered the previously white surface. The liquid of life. The biggest sign of death.
Blood.
It was the first time he had ever seen this much of it. Though, that wasn't all that surprising. What seven year olds could say that they had seen enough blood to fill a kiddie pool?
Well, he could, now at least.
His dull gray eyes traced along the pooling fluid, following it back to the source.
The head of a woman.
He knew her. Knew her well. They had the same gray eyes, his own just a shade more dull. He even had some of her stark white hair. Well, it had been white, now it was mostly dyed red due to the blood flowing from the hole through her skull.
He always loved his mother's hair. So soft, silky. Her shampoo always made her smell of creamy coconut. It was one of his favorite smells.
Would he ever get to enjoy that scent again? Likely not. He may not even survive this event.
Did he even want to?
His attention was pulled away from the corpse of his mother by another loud bang. Another gunshot, he realized.
Oh. The villain was still rampaging.
He looked up, at the shelf above him. His mother had shoved him here, trying to hide him as the commotion had begun. It seemed to have worked well enough. It did seem like the constant gun fire was slowly moving away from him, though the echo made it hard to tell.
At least his mothers final action wouldn't be in vain, right?
What was he doing? Should he be doing something? Running? Searching for help? Or just staying still and waiting for this entire ordeal to be over, because that seemed like the best decision to him.
He looked around, gazing at the items on the shelf around him. Candy. They had been picking some to take home when the shooting had started.
With an almost silent hum to himself, he picked up a box of something sour, his favorite kind, and began to slowly and quietly eat it. He's sure the store wouldn't miss it.
He would just wait it out, he decided. He had lots of candy around him, and the villain could only have so many bullets, right?
'I'm not sure this day can get much worse.' Officer Naomasa Tsukauchi thought to himself, gazing upon the aftermath of the day's hellish events.
It had started as something small. A small-time criminal had attempted to rob a store attached to a popular mall. Not an ideal situation, but one that happened more often than you would think, and could be handled quite easily.
That was, until a civilian had tried to be a hero, using their quirk on the would-be robber.
He wasn't sure how it happened. He's no quirk specialist, hell, he hardly understood how his own worked most of the time. That said, he couldn't possibly understand how the civilians' quirk had affected the criminal, who was sent into a bloodthirsty rampage, shooting everyone he could until he ran out of bullets, before resolving to the use of his own quirk.
It was a massacre. They were still counting the dead and collecting the injured, but it had been estimated that almost fifty people had met their end during this catastrophe, with a full quarter of the mall reduced to little more than rubble.
Four high ranking heroes. It had taken them a full hour, but they finally managed to subdue the rampaging villain. Another hour had passed since then, and the police were finally making progress processing the scene.
Hence, Tsukauchi was left with what he considered the worst part of his job. Taking witness statements. They were unreliable, they were emotional, and some were downright horrific.
To make it even worse, the next witness he'd been commanded to interview was a kid. A kid who had been at the center of the entire incident, no more than twenty feet away from the criminal when the rampage had begun. He couldn't even fathom the amount of help this kid would need to recover from such a traumatic event.
Despite that, he couldn't push it off any longer.
He approached the child, his trained eyes instantly catching a few…peculiar details. The child's dull gray eyes were the first. No, dull wasn't the right word. The gray orbs were…cold. Hollow. Empty. There was no redness. No tear tracks on his face. He hadn't been crying.
Could just be shock. He'd seen it before. Kids, even adults, not shedding a single tear, or showing a single sign of sadness in the wake of a tragedy.
Yet….it wasn't. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. This boy wasn't in shock. He wasn't sad. He didn't even seem bothered by the state he was in.
He could see some flecks of red, evidently blood, dried on the boy's cheek. Some dots of the same substance were visible across the white strands of his hair, which were short and mixed in with the black in odd, irregular patterns across his head. There was even some on his arm. Yet, the boy didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he didn't mind it. From what the officer could tell, the boy's only care was the box of sour candy he was slowly eating out of while he sat on the curb.
The blood couldn't have been his own. Of that, Tsukauchi was sure, if only because if it was, the boy wouldn't be here for him to interview, he would have been carted off by the paramedics to the nearest hospital with the rest of the injured. So, where did it come from?
'Only one way to find out.' The officer thought to himself, as he crouched down before the boy. The details he'd noticed so far painted a very ugly picture, but perhaps that was just his paranoia working overtime given the terrible events of the day.
He looked into those hollow gray eyes, and forced out the gentlest smile he could manage. "Hey there kiddo. I'm Officer Tsukauchi, I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about what happened today." He said to the boy in a calm tone, watching the child's face closely.
He expected a number of possibilities when he introduced himself. A squeaking voice, panicking as the boy snapped to his senses, or a broken voice speaking words expressing confusion, unable to process what had happened in the last few hours, were the two that seemed most likely.
What he didn't expect was the response of a slow, calm nod from the child sitting in front of him.
The man cleared his throat, pulling out his notepad. "Can you tell me your name, little man?" He asked the boy, hoping to make some kind of connection with the child.
He got a proper, voiced response this time, but it was just as short and simple as the nod he'd received previously.
"Ajax Kaizen."
The words were cold. The tone was dead, hollow, just like the gray eyes he was staring into.
"That's a cool name there, Ajax. Say, can you tell me what you were doing here at the mall today?" Tsukauchi asked, scribbling the name down on his notepad.
"Shopping."
Another answer devoid of emotion. Something was definitely not right.
"I see. What were you shopping for, if you don't mind me asking?" He pressed, giving the boy a reassuring smile, trying to coax him into opening up.
"Food. Mom got paid yesterday. We needed groceries." The boy said as he pushed another piece of candy into his mouth, making the older man freeze.
"Your….mother?" Tsukauchi repeated, gaze slowly turning to one of horror as the boy nodded in confirmation.
"My mother. She's dead now. The seventh gunshot." Ajax revealed, his hand coming up to brush a few white strands of hair behind his ear. "She hid me under a shelf after the fourth gunshot, to keep me safe. It worked."
The officer stared at him, expression aghast. 'His mother….must have been the woman that was shot in the head. That means….it happened right in front of him.' He thought, as the details slowly clicked into place within his mind.
"I'm so sorry to hear that, Ajax. What about your father? Or any other family?" Tsukauchi was quick to ask, eager to find a resolution to this devastating situation.
Sadly, it seemed that wouldn't be the case.
"No father. No family. Just mom. Well, not anymore. Just me now." Ajax said calmly, shaking another piece of candy from the box in his hand, popping it into his mouth.
Shit. Tsukauchi was wrong. His day could get worse, and it just had.
The officer let out a sigh, gently pushing away the feeling of his quirk confirming the validity of the boy's words from his mind. He grabbed his radio from his belt, bringing it up to his face and speaking into it lowly, calling for a supervisor and a notification to JSC, the Japanese Social Care, the only option for the now orphaned boy in front of him.
When he received confirmation to his calls, he lowered the radio, gaze falling back to the boy sitting before him. Something still didn't make sense. One thing still didn't fit, and despite his desire to let it be, Naomasa just couldn't resist.
"Ajax…if I may ask you just one more thing, are you….alright? Do you not feel…upset? Sad? Scared?" Tsukauchi asked the boy as gently as he could, seeking to unravel the last enigma in front of him.
His sense of worry began to skyrocket as Ajax froze at his question, hand halfway to his mouth with another piece of candy, but was quickly disrupted by an even more powerful feeling of surprise.
The boy's head was tilted, like he was curious, confused even, looking up at the man as if seeking an answer.
"Scared….upset….sad….what are those?" The boy's hollow voice came, almost echoing in the officer's ears as everything fell into place, with his quirk confirming the honesty of the younger one's words.
'This boy….he has no idea what emotions are!'
Dull silver eyes slowly opened, greeting by the site of cracked cement covering steel structuring. It was nice waking up to a familiar sight.
He sat up slowly, hands going to rub his eyes, before his arms raised in a stretch.
'It's been a while since I thought about that day. A few months, at least.' Ajax thought to himself, brushing his fingers through his monochromatic hair. 'Hm. It's gotten pretty long. I'll ask her to cut it for me when she comes by next.'
He stood up from his mattress, a yawn pouring from his lips as he looked around the only place he could call home. It was certainly nothing special after all, but as far as he was concerned, it was his.
After all, it was hard to make an abandoned parking garage feel very homey, but Ajax liked to think he'd done well. Flat gray cement as far as the eye could see, sparse lines of colored paint revealing where parking spots used to be. A queen sized mattress, set upon a frame of boxes, was what he could call his bed. Another few boxes serve as things like a nightstand and a small table, various objects placed upon them.
It wasn't much, but it was all he had, and he was okay with that.
Ajax was in no hurry as he began his morning ritual. Well, not morning exactly. From the golden light of the sun shining into the parking structure, it had to be past midday already, well into the afternoon. That was usual for him though, staying awake through the nights, sleeping through the days.
He reached down, grabbing an old backpack that was resting against the concrete wall next to the bed. One hand grabbed a metal water bottle from the side pocket, taking a sip as his other hand reached into the small pocket of the bag, pulling out a hair brush, quickly using it to begin pushing back the wild mane of long spiky hair that sat disheveled upon his head.
'It's almost nine years to the day, isn't it?' The sixteen year old asked himself, counting in his head. 'I should go visit the grave, say hey, make sure it's being properly maintained.'
He remembered the details of the day vividly, as if it happened only moments ago, but that was no surprise, it was the same for everything at this point. Good or bad, he was incapable of forgetting.
If you asked Ajax how his life had gone on from that fateful day, he would give a nonchalant shrug. He'd say he'd had good times and bad, happy memories and sad ones, made both lifelong friends, and vengeful enemies. All in all, a balanced life.
Yet, if you asked anyone else, they would question just how he had survived.
After the death of his mother, he was sent into the foster system. With no one to take him in, he was bounced around from one group home to the other, never quite fitting in or feeling like he belonged in any of them. All the while, as he was moved from city to city, house to house, family to family, he grew.
Not physically, mind you. Even now, at sixteen, Ajax barely met the average range of height for those his age, with a slim, slender build.
Mentally, on the other hand, he had grown exponentially. He had learned about human nature, about the ways of the world, about how different people thought and acted. It was quite fun for him.
As he was shuffled about within the foster system, he was seen by a variety of professionals, doctors really. It started with a psychologist, a trauma specialist, brought in as soon as possible after the incident that resulted in his orphanhood.
However, it didn't take long for that doctor to come to quite a terrible conclusion.
Ajax had no concept of emotions, of empathy or feeling.
After this fact was determined as a certainty, the search for the cause of his personality defect began in earnest. At first, the doctors thought it was caused by trauma he had suffered witnessing the death of his mother firsthand.
That theory was quickly disproven when Ajax had a calm, yet disturbing discussion about the events of that horrific day with a group of varying doctors, without so much as a tremble of his voice, a tear of his eyes, or hesitation in his quite visceral descriptions.
That puzzled even the most experienced doctors in all of Japan. If this so-called personality defect was caused by trauma, there should have been some sign. Perhaps not right after the events had happened, but by now the mention of that day should be making him tremble if not dissolve into a full mental breakdown. Yet, there was nothing of the sort.
The search for the cause continued in much the same fashion. A new theory being formed by doctors every so often, and Ajax continuously disproving them in ways they just could not make sense of.
It took a little over two years, and dozens of theories, for them to come to a conclusion that in Ajax's own words, they were quite stupid for not suggesting earlier.
Ajax had never manifested a quirk. Or, so it had seemed.
He lacked the second joint in his toe. Records showed proof of his mother's quirk. So why had they never seen hide nor hair of his?
Unless, they had been staring at it the entire time.
It only took a few days for his case to be closed. At the age of ten, Ajax was registered to the government as having a quirk simply named Devoid, giving him a sociopathic disposition at all times.
When he thought back on it, he felt nothing but amusement. That description was so simple minded, so limited. They hadn't bothered to look any further, dig any deeper. Simply called it a day, and left him to the fate of the system.
How wrong they were was laughable, but that's a story for another time.
Of all the memories he had, Ajax would absolutely say that bouncing around the Japanese foster system was in the 'Bad' category. In fact, he would affirm that the only good part of it was when he decided he was done with it. When he decided, he was better off on his own.
It hadn't taken much. Some lies here and there. Some sweet words, fast hands, and practiced acting. It had only taken him about two weeks to gather up supplies and convince his then current caretakers to give him a bit more independence.
Just like that, he disappeared. Hopping on a train to a different city, and a different one from there. That was the glorious beginning to his life on the streets, and he could firmly say, his life only went up from there. Well, most of the time.
It was tough at first, of course. Learning to survive on his own. It took time, trial and error, blood and sweat.
In his opinion, it was worth every second.
Ajax reached into the backpack once more, pulling out a small pocket mirror, using it to check his hair. "Decent enough." He muttered, putting both it and the brush away, taking another drink of water as he walked towards one of the garage's many openings to the outside world.
The neighborhood was about as far from high end as one could get, decrepit apartment buildings with barred windows lined the streets, likely filled with either poor, unfortunate souls with nowhere else to go, or the criminal scum of the Earth.
Ajax didn't judge though. Everyone needed a place to sleep. As long as they left his stuff alone, he didn't care what they did.
He looked down the streets, which were primarily empty, as he expected, pardon the occasional dealer peeking out of an alley, keeping an eye out for customers.
Letting out a soft hum, he reaches into the bag once more, pulling out a relatively high quality phone. It was a pain in the ass to get, but it's not like he paid for it. As he turned it on, his mind wandered. The year was close to ending. It was the middle of December, the air crisp, a decent chill to the wind. He'd have to think of a Christmas gift to get. Maybe a nice date. There was that beach that was apparently getting cleaned up pretty well. Perfect excuse to see her in a bikini too.
Shaking those less than pure thoughts from his head, he looked at the time displayed on the phone, letting out a short whistle of surprise. It was later than he thought, around six in the evening. The sun would be setting soon.
Oh well. Ajax liked the light of the moon better anyway. It was soft and gentle, unlike that harsh heat and demanding brightness of the sun.
Once he saw he had no notifications, he quickly turned the device back off. Power was a relatively difficult commodity to come by, no sense in wasting the battery needlessly.
His ear twitched, and his head turned. He heard something. It sounded like…it came from the building directly next to the garage? With the echo, it sounded like it might have even been on the same elevation. What could make a sound that loud though?
He didn't have to wait long to find out, as the wall he was staring at, one shared between the garage he called home, and a pretty run down apartment building next door, practically exploded, concrete shattered as two objects went flying through the newly created opening.
"Who the fuck…" Ajax muttered, his face quickly setting in to a scowl. He didn't know what the hell just happened, but he knew once he found out, he'd be kicking someone's ass, the only question was who's.
It only took a few moments for the dust to settle, revealing the two objects he had seen to be people. Both male from what he could see, one was a muscled, big guy, looking almost like a stereotypical shady guy at the gym. He had some blood dripping from his face, coming from what looked to Ajax like a broken nose, and a busted lip.
The other caught his attention wholeheartedly though. Black clothes and gray cloth. A pair of yellow goggles on his face, covering his eyes. A dirty white cloth wrapped around his neck and twisted around his hands, ready to be used as a weapon.
'Some kind of hero? In this neighborhood? That's a first.' Ajax thought, his eyes critically looking over every detail he could find on the out of place newcomer.
"You fucking punk! Who the hell do you think you are!? You busted all our fucking cooking equipment!" The large man yelled, practically seething in rage.
Oh great. He was a loud one.
Ajax's scowl deepened. He fucking hated the loud ones.
"You're too loud. Can we hurry this up?" The newcomer in black said with a tired sigh, his hands tightening the grip on his long white scarf.
'...this guy's alright.' Ajax thought, nodding to himself.
With a roar of rage, the muscled man threw himself at the hero, his meaty fist raised.
Ajax watched, almost entranced, as the two went blow for blow. The big one would swing wildly, anger controlling his every attack, while the smaller would dodge and weave through his blows, landing a few counter blows now and then, making his opponent stumble.
He would have watched for longer, but something else caught his attention. The muscled man's attacks were pretty wild, and because of the hero's narrow evasion, they were finding their mark elsewhere. Namely, across the concrete walls and around the flower, damaging the structure even further than it already was, in its dilapidated state.
They were damaging the place he called home. Right in front of him.
They didn't even seem to notice he was there.
'Ah, fuck this.' Ajax thought, grabbing something from his backpack, and wasting no time making his way towards the two.
His movements were silent, gliding around with practiced eased, following close to the fighting duo. He studied them, watching, analyzing, learning how they moved and why. He waited, and waited, searching for the perfect moment to make his move.
The second he found it, he struck.
Shota Aizawa was not having the best of days.
He had a mission that day. It had been planned for a while, so he was prepared. There was no issue there. The issue started when he went to board the train in order to get to the briefing location, only to find the line had been closed down that very morning for emergency repairs.
Not the end of the world, but walking two miles to his destination with the heat of the morning sun shining down on him was far from pleasant.
The mission seemed simple. Some ex-convicts had formed a little gang and were terrorizing some locals in some rough areas that Principal Nezu wanted to do some community outreach towards.
There had also been a few rumors of the group producing and distributing some controlled substances, but that was a non-issue in Aizawa's eyes. If he dealt with the group themselves, their distribution of narcotics would no longer be a concern either.
Honestly, he was just happy to do something other than the mountains of paperwork Nezu dumped on him every week. The principal claimed it was all vital preparations for the coming school year in April, but the man had a feeling it was some subtle revenge for expelling the entire class he was supposed to teach this year.
Not his fault they lacked potential. He refused to waste his time with dead ends.
The mission was simple, and split into two parts. Reconnaissance of the newly founded gangs' supposed drug den, and then the apprehension of the gang members.
The first part had gone simply enough, the only surprise being just how much narcotic production the gang was actually doing, but again, non-issue.
Aizawa and a few other similarly skilled underground heroes attacked the den simultaneously. Most members were easy to apprehend, those that struggled couldn't take more than a little knocking around before they were down for the count.
The same couldn't be said for the steroid induced rage filled body builder that crashed through the side door that linked the apartment to another and knocked a few of the heroes clear on their ass.
Shota had managed to gain his full attention, which led to them taking a trip through the wall into the adjacent structure. He wasn't completely sure what the structure was, but it was seemingly made of some decent quality concrete, which was a plus when dealing with someone who quite easily destroyed the environment.
The pair of fighters had both just taken a blow from the other, and stepped back attempting to gain some breathing room. They were a decent match for each other, Shota had to admit. One stronger and slower, one weaker and faster. It was a solid back and forth fight.
He hated it.
He needed to end this fight, and quickly. He'd have to go for some rapid, high impact strikes, aiming to debilitate the larger man entirely.
From the look in the eyes of said man, he was thinking the same thing as the pro hero, both preparing to leap forward at one another for a final time.
It was almost comical how quickly both of them froze when a sound echoed out from behind the criminal. A sound both knew well.
The cocking of a gun.
Ajax stepped into the view of the hero, pushing the barrel of the gun held in his hand firmly against the back of the criminal's head to keep him docile.
"It's impolite to enter someone's home without introducing yourself, you know." He said to them both, eyes narrowed in a glare, voice cold and harsh. "Downright rude to start wrecking the place."
He couldn't see the eyes of the hero behind the yellow goggles, but he imagined they were either wide in surprise, or narrowed in suspicion.
The criminal grunted, attempting to move his head and look back at the boy, which Ajax swiftly put an end to with a nudge of the gun barrel. "The fuck do you think you are?" He growled at the younger male, glaring behind him with fury.
"I'm the person whose home you just started destroying, and I don't take kindly to unwelcome guests." Ajax answered, his tone even and balanced, but effectively displaying his irritation at the situation.
"Kid, I don't know who you are, but back off, and drop the weapon. This guy is dangerous." The hero warned him, slowly taking a step closer to the duo.
"As are half the people in this neighborhood. Don't worry, I don't plan on actually fighting this roid rager. I'm just going to keep him still with the threat of two lead ones to the back of the skull while you get him restrained. Then, you can both get out of my home, sound good?" Ajax snarked at him, slowly growing more annoyed by the second.
The criminal growled, but quickly shut up when the gun barrel was pressed harder into the back of his head. He should be fighting back, be breaking this arrogant teenager who dared threaten him, yet….he couldn't bring himself to. His body wouldn't move, and he knew he was better off surrendering to the hero than messing with this kid, because his instincts were telling him that the boy wasn't kidding when he threatened to put two rounds into the back of his scalp.
There was a few moments of tense silence, before the hero lowered his hands, and slowly began walking forward. "If you make a single hostile move, I won't hesitate to put you on your ass." He said to the boy, pulling a pair of restraints from the back of his belt.
Ajax merely nodded, and remained still as the pro bound the criminal, taking a step back once the man was finished, holstering the firearm in the back of his waistband. "Happy to help." He said flatly, turning the walk away back towards his belongings as the man made the criminal sit.
"Hold on just a minute, kid. I need some questions answered." The hero said, turning towards the boy, as he pulled down his goggled, revealing tired black eyes.
Ajax stopped walking, lowering his head with a sigh before turning back to face the man.
"Can you make it fast at least? I need to figure out where I'm gonna get some food for the night." The boy said, running his hand through his spiky hair in exasperation.
The hero's eyes analyzed him closely, narrowed in thought. "Where'd you get the gun?" Aizawa asked shortly, deciding to tackle the most pressing issue first. Firearms in the hands of random civilians was an issue, especially someone as young as the boy before him, who was so quick to use it with such comfort to threaten the life of another.
"Off a gang member a few months back. He rolled up, tried to kick me out of here. I made him regret it, and sent him back to his friends with a warning, missing the piece and about a hundred dollars." Ajax said calmly, his arms crossed over his chest.
Armed gang members. Shota would have to remember to warn any heroes operating in the area.
"You'll need to turn it in. I can't let you keep it." The older man said, staring into the boy's eyes. "How old are you?"
Ajax sighed, pulling the weapon back out from the back of his waistband, making the hero tense and prepare to act, before he unloaded the magazine, and popped out the bullet in the chamber, laying them on the ground in front of him. "Sixteen. Why?"
The answer made the pro pause. A sixteen year old had just threatened to take a man's life in front of him, helped him capture said man, and surrendered an unregistered firearm with no complaints. He'd also hazard a guess that this boy was homeless, seeing how he had not missed the young man referring to the structure they were in as his home.
Well, that, the dirty state of his clothing, half brushed yet matted hair, and his seemingly standoff-ish attitude.
"How long have you been on the streets?" Aizawa asked him, stepping forward and securing the unloaded weapon, never one for subtlety.
"Seven years. Coming up on eight. We done?" The boy asked impatiently, scratching his cheek.
Shota took a moment to think, looking the boy over repeatedly. He could try to bring him in and get him set up with social services, but something was telling him that wouldn't work out so well. He ran over options in his head, before an idea popped up. 'Well, he did say he wanted to do some community outreach.'
"One last thing. What's your name?" The pro asked, watching the boy as he sighed.
"Ajax Kaizen." He said shortly, turning on his heel, and walking away from the two.
Shota quickly committed the name to memory, determined to find out everything he could about the boy before his next scheduled meeting with Nezu. The boy had intrigued him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why.
He was shaken from his thoughts by the arrival of two of the other heroes he was working with.
"Eraserhead, is everything alright here?" The first asked, looking him over for any injuries.
"The situation back there has been handled, everyone is secured." The second said as he added another lair of bindings to the villain Shota had managed to capture. "Mission is a complete success. Ready to head back for debrief?"
Aizawa was silent for a moment, before nodding, wrapping his capture tool securely around his neck. "Yeah, let's get going." He said, helping the second hero lift the villain to his feet after assuring the first he was uninjured. There was no time to waste, after all. He had research to do.
Oh, and paperwork.
Damnit Nezu.
Ajax sighed, leaning against the concrete barrier of the top floor of the garage. His gaze ventured out, looking at the various lights coming alive across the city as the sky darkened, the sun beginning to sink below the horizon.
He had to give up his gun. That bothered him a bit, but it got that hero to leave him alone, so he supposed it was a worthwhile trade.
His hand ran through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead, his eyes closed in thought as his stomach growled. He really was hungry, but he couldn't for the life of him decide where to try and get some food. He had some money stashed, he could go for a semi decent meal, nothing expensive but at least something that was more quality than a packaged gas station meal.
As his mind wandered, he heard the soft, light footsteps approaching. She was trying to sneak up on him again. It never worked, and she knew it wouldn't, they both did, but that didn't make it any less fun for her, or cute to him.
Stilling her breathing as she got even closer to him, she analyzed her prey, stalking her way towards him. She just had to wait for the perfect moment, and right as he took a deep breath, she found it.
So, she pounced.
Jumping on his back, arms wrapped around his neck, practically draped over him, though since she was a bit smaller than him, she essentially ended up hanging off his back, legs dangling a few inches above the ground.
There was a few moments of silence, just hanging there, before she burst into melodic giggles, nuzzling her face into the back of his neck. "Miss me?" She whispered in his ear after her giggles calmed.
The response she got was the same as always, but it didn't warm her heart any less. The deep chuckle that sent a rumble through her, and the relaxed, happy sigh that never failed to make her smile. "Every second." His deep voice muttered as his head tilted back, leaning into her grasp, making it even easier for her to nuzzle deeper into the crook of his neck. "Welcome home."
She couldn't resist letting out another giggle, her lips gently pressing a soft kiss against his cheek. "Something interesting happen while I was gone? Downstairs looks a little beat up."
"You could say that. I'll tell you later. Help me decide where to go for food." Ajax said, exasperation at the day's events creeping into his voice.
She laughed, gently running her fingers through his long hair. "What are you craving?"
He leaned into her touch, humming softly. "Something….spiced. Well seasoned. Juicy." He mumbled, relaxing into her gently rubbing of his scalp.
"Sounds like some nice fried chicken to me." She said, kissing his head softly.
His eyes slowly opened, moving to meet her own golden amber orbs, an almost miniscule smile spreading on his lips. "You're a miracle worker." Ajax said, his voice coated in a tone that only she knew, one of affection.
She smiled, a wide grin showcasing her fangs, a sight that always brightened his day, cupping her hand along his cheek. "That's one of the reasons why you love me!" She said excitedly, her blonde hair bouncing as her head tilted.
"One of many." Ajax agreed with a chuckle and a nod, nuzzling against her hand.
They were both silent for a while, simply enjoying each other's company, as they had grown accustomed to across their years spent together.
"Come on." Ajax started, grabbing her thighs and pulling them to wrap around his sides, lifting her into a properly comfortable piggy back position. "Let's go and eat. Afterwards, I need a haircut, if you don't mind." He said, holding her legs steady as he began walking towards the ramp, beginning the tread to leave the parking structure they called home.
She giggled, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck, her chin resting on his shoulder. "Sure! My blades are always at your service." She said mischievously, turning to whisper in his ear. "As am I~"
…..
Maybe his haircut could wait for the morning.
With a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder, there is life once more!
Hello everyone! It's been a very long time, hasn't it? How many years now….
I wanna say at least 5, maybe a little over 6, but either way, it's way, waaaaay too long!
I missed this! Writing, enjoying something that I made!
That said, I believe I owe you all an apology. My previous attempts at writing were….lackluster. Narrow minded. Single focused. Not to mention repetitive….
But no longer! With this wonderful piece of writing, I make each and every one of you a vow. My writing will continue, it will be strong, and most importantly, it will be,unique, that I can absolutely assure you.
I'm sure many of you noticed there are several odd things over the course of this chapter. Things that don't quite line up. Things that don't exactly make sense. Things that are just plain….well, weird!
And to that I say….good! Some of them are relatively easy to spot, some are quite obscure, some….practically leap off the page and bite you in the face they're so obvious.
So if you're noticing them, wonderful. You're paying attention. Stay tuned. You'll love what's to come.
To be blunt, I created myself a set of special rules when it comes to writing this story, as to avoid problems that my previous works encountered.
I won't tell most of them, but there is one I will state here, to make it clear as crystal and plain as day.
Nothing is an accident.
There is no such thing as a coincidence.
Everything has a purpose.
I'll leave that for you all to make what you will.
A pleasant little detail is that this story actually has a beta reader! A wonderful friend that I wouldn't possible know what to do in life without. They're a writer themself, and since they agreed to help me with this, I'm actually helping them with a story of their own! It's not out anywhere just yet, but I promise, the minute it is, I'll make sure you all know where to find both it, and it's fantastic author.
I can't accurately describe just how excited I am for this, and I hope many of you will stay along for this ride, because god damn is it going to be wild!
With that said, I sincerely hope you all enjoyed the beginning to what I hope will be one of the best things I ever create!
Till next time folks, this is TheInfiniteWolf, signing off.