Twenty Seven

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Not telling me something or hiding something on purpose is just the same as lying.

Track 28; Leave The Light On by Zero 9:36

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"*Best Jeanist Whereabouts Unknown*"

Is what flashed across your screen that morning. You choked on your morning drink and called for Hawks, your cat pawing at your pant leg with a loud purr. There was no answer. You listened hard for the number two hero, he should be up by now. He usually would have sent a feather if he was busy, but there wasn't one for that either. You walked down the hallway, leaving your drink on the kitchen counter and faintly touching the doorframe of your previous room, before stretching around the corner.

"Hello?" Obviously nobody was home, and you made your way out of his room, snatching your cat off of his bed and closing the door behind you. You returned to the kitchen to grab your drink and then settled onto the couch to watch the news.

As the television droned on about Best Jeanists whereabouts, you couldn't help but wonder yourself where he was. Perhaps on a vacation? But he just got back to work...why would he disappear without telling anybody? Your eyes drifted from the tv to notice a small book that seemed to have fallen from the coffee table.

On the cover read "Special Abilities Liberation Front." You briefly glanced over it until you came across a dog-eared page. You clicked your tongue in disdain. Why couldn't he respect a book? Some words on the pages were circled with a pencil. Until you began to connect the dots, it seemed like gibberish.

Enemy...liberation...battlefield...league... overthrow...100,000...April...

You quickly closed the book and jumped to your feet, gliding on your wings down the hallway and into your old bedroom, stuffing the book in a box in the back of your closet. April was four months from now. What were you supposed to do? Should you tell him that you know? No...he'll tell you, won't he? He won't lie to you.

It was obvious through the message he conveyed that he was at the meeting, he saw all those people who were ready to riot in April. He couldn't do anything, except this. You wondered who he gave the message to, your mind wandering once again to see if he would tell you.

Drifting back out to the living room, you sat there and mulled about the house as you used to, playing with Yoshio on and off over the rest of the day. You'd even done obnoxious things, knowing it would get his attention when he got home. You had hidden tiny plastic babies around his room, bathroom, and places around the house where Hawks would find them, but not the cat.

The Maine Coon thought he was intelligent, but he had little to no spatial awareness when it came to finding his own source of food. He also could barely control his large paws when he sprinted, often knocking into things and causing them to fall over, or just being so loud you swore that he was causing an earthquake.  The downfall of a two-year-old cat was the zoomies, especially when you were no longer in a small apartment and Yoshio had room to run.

You even ordered a cat tree and had it delivered the same day. It was at your front door before it was completely dark out, and you had it assembled and placed in the far wall of the living room where thankfully Hawks didn't have anything. Well, he had moved a bookshelf when he gave you the idea of buying Yoshio a cat tree. Alright y'know what, he bought the cat tree.

You had takeout teriyaki for dinner, and eventually fell asleep on the couch, Yoshio curled up next to you.

Hawks silently entered the house sometime in the dead of the night, closing the sliding glass door behind him without a sound and turning to see you sleeping on the couch. He put his boots away before tucking an arm under your neck and the other under your knees and carrying you to your bedroom.

After laying you down and covering you with the blankets, he said goodnight to Yoshio and stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

The pro hero rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He hadn't slept in 46 hours. He barely made it to his bed before collapsing; Hawks was asleep by the time his head hit the bed.

Over the skyline of Japan, the starry night sky hazed into a bloody horizon.

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words; 776

thanks for reading!

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