HIRO X READER things [COMPLETE]

Story 45--Street Rat and "Suicide"

Guide:

(Y/N): Your name

"There she is! Stop her!"

Your feet were already on the ground in a very fast run in an attempt to lead you away from the group of policemen hot on your trail. Sweat ran down your forehead, your neck, and your back, unfortunately making you feel really hot underneath the fleece black jacket you were wearing. All you could hear apart from the police yelling and the feet pounding and the huge burlap sack clanking at your knee, filled with cans of food for people in need, was your heart, booming out of control, as you kept going. Nothing but adrenaline pulled at you.

A chase with the police isn't too strange. Typical pocket-pickers do end up getting beaten down with the authorities, and, if they aren't lucky, they could get caught. And here you were, in that exact same situation, with no drive or time to come up with any kind of diversion that could set the police off.

Great. Just your luck.

Darting away to the all-too familiar alleyway where you would normally hide to evade the authorities, you were surprised tonight to see, from a distance, a boy clutching hard at a knife. A single silvery glint gave away the fact that he wasn't here for the same reasons you were.

Instantly, and instinctively, you screamed.

"AHHHH!"

But what you didn't expect was for the boy to scream at the exact same time.

"AHH!"

"AHHHHH!"

"AAAAAAAAHHHH!"

"What the hell are you doing here?" you managed to ask.

Before the boy could answer, there came a THUMP and a man's voice barking, "We know you're in there! Come on out! It's back to the jail cell for you!"

With nothing but the sound of your pounding heart and the blood rushing to your ears, you crouched low against the shadows. The boy, however, still remained standing.

"Get down!" you hissed, pulling him down.

The boy looked confused, though he crouched beside you. "What, why?"

"Just do as I say!" you hissed louder. "You want to get caught or what?"

"Not like I'm doing anything to hurt you!" he protested.

"Just be quiet!" you finally breathed in exasperation.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Well, maybe not entirely. At least, the good thing was, the boy remained pretty quiet while you did. After a few minutes, the police shrugged.

"She's probably gone," one of the officers said. "Damn. She lost us."

"We'll have to relocate her in the morning," another gruff voice agreed. "Back to the station we go."

With that, the police men retreated away from the alleyway. The moment their footsteps completely faded, you breathed a long sigh of relief. Damn, on some of the most unlucky nights you would get caught by the police and sent to jail cells, forcing you to give up on the cans of food that you unwillingly stole for the other children you were forced to live with after your parents died. Without even knowing it, you became San Fransokyo's prime outlaw. A street rat, like Aladdin. Or a common thief, like Robin Hood. Someone who would never be forgiven.

As you reflected on that, your eyes suddenly averted to the boy, who was staring at the blade in his hand and was about to stab himself in the chest, his teeth set in a grit.