Motivation - SPORADIC UPDATES

Chapter Twenty-Five

Contrary to popular belief, Fueki Shun loved driving. Yeah, sure, she might have a penchant for wanting to commit vehicular manslaughter on occasion, but it sure beat walking. Especially back in the good ol' days when heroes thought they were all that, yet still couldn't catch a single car screeching around the corner.

And now... well, Shun's job consisted of driving around a top hero with an excellent jawline and his blunt as hell brat. It wasn't so bad. Housing and all that crap was provided, to the dismay of the cops, and she got to stay out of a maximum-security prison for the rest of her life. All thanks to a guy she owed a shit ton of favors towards. And not the kind of favor that's like 'oh, I'll repay you for this in a couple years, maybe I'll forget, whoopsies'. The kind of favor that was quite literally written on ink and signed. Legal name and everything, no aliases allowed.

Hence the reason why the woman was in a good mood when she pulled the car back into Dreynen Agency's garage and headed into the building. One more favor, crossed off the list. At this rate... Well, Shun would still be working for the boss 'till she was old and dying, but it still felt good to have one less thing to do in the future.

She strolled leisurely into the lobby from the side door, flashing the poor receptionist a toothy grin and giving her a heart attack for the seventh time that week before it happened.

"SHUN!" a vaguely familiar voice yelled, a blur of fire overtaking her vision as a teenager rocketed towards her like a missile.

Shun blinked, deftly sidestepped, and let the kid crash into the wall with a painful smack. He fell back and lay spread eagle on the tiled floor, red eyes staring deliriously up at the ceiling while blood streamed from his nose. Oh, and a little down the walls. Whoever had to clean that was going to be pissed off.

"Ow..."

Oh. Now she recognized the kid after hearing his groan of pain.

Shit. So that was why he knew her name, let alone called her by her first name when the last person to do so was six feet under. Or rotting in a dumpster, considering how little people bothered to hide the evidence properly these days.

A grin spread across the woman's face, even as her boss's brat sighed from off to the side and muttered something about the situation being a pain in the ass. She strode forward and crouched down, pinching the boy's cheeks like a grandmother and grinning even wider. "Nice of you to finally come back, little Taki. Not so scrawny these days, eh?"

~-~-~-~

Kazue watched the apparent reunion with veiled interest, leaning against the wall of the lobby and shooting the receptionist a mildly apologetic look. She, in all honesty, deserved a raise for Fueki's evidently terrifying grins, alongside the fact that the entire area nearly would have gotten torched if he hadn't done anything. While his Quirk was powerful and he was good at dialing up the power to the maximum, Adachi was absolutely terrible about keeping collateral damage to a minimum.

Although, he supposed it didn't exactly matter in arena battles where the loser either died or was beaten halfway there. The contestants were paid well for a reason, besides Fueki's love to watch people fight.

From the appearance of things, the dark-haired woman had things under control. Adachi had immediately protested upon being called 'little Taki', and had deliberately flexed upon the fact he used to be scrawny being brought up.

Kazue nodded once to the receptionist, spared one more glance at the sight of Adachi punching Fueki in the shoulder and somehow not dying, and slipped down the hall towards the stairs. The schedule wouldn't exactly keep itself, and the brunet didn't have the burning desire to get behind on his work. Catching up was always a pain in the ass, even if the agency was always ahead of schedule to begin with. And despite his injury, due to a lack of duty as an actual hero, he'd been invited back to work rather than being condemned to tantamount house arrest.