Powers (Team Crafted)

Ian Chapter 2

After School

I let out a small groan as I look at the time. It was 11:03 pm. It was time to go.

I grabbed the simple black book bag that was sitting in the back corner of my hallway closet, quickly looking through it to make sure I had everything.

Water? Check.

Knuckle wrappings? Check.

Bandages? Check.

Money? Check.

Gun? Check.

Everything was in order. I grab my sunglasses from the table, sliding them on over my electric blue eyes; both of them already facing completely opposite directions. I could still see perfectly; I actually didn't see through the iris of my eye, so having them face the same direction was a formality.

I walk to the bus stop, getting there at about 11:13. I feel the vibration of my phone in my pocket, and I sigh as I slide it out to look at it.

Asmo: 450 5th St.

I groan, sliding the device back into my pocket right as the bus drove up. There was no one else on it as I got on, slipping a $20 into the little box next to the driver.

"Where to, son?"

"450, 5th street." I reply, sitting in the seat closest to the yellow line.

"You competing tonight, son?" the driver asks, and I wasn't surprised that he did. The old guy has driven me to enough of these things that I knew it wasn't that far of a stretch to say that the driver had figured it out by himself. I didn't exactly hide.

"Yeah, heard it's going to be a messy one tonight." I reply coolly, looking down at my text feed. Or to be exact; looking at one specific text feed.

The Fish: So, are you doing anything tonight Ian?

I jolt when the message pops up, my eyes widening in surprise. Yeah, we had exchanged numbers; but I didn't think the mudkip would actually text me.

Hurriedly, I reply:

Yeah, sorry. You?

The Fish: Nothing much, just about to head out to do some surfing before heading to bed.

I raise an eyebrow, who surfed at night?

Why would you surf at night?

The text feed goes quiet for a couple seconds, and for those seconds I had suddenly become petrified I had said the wrong thing; which made no sense. Since when did I care so much about what that fish though of me?

The Fish: I don't know. It's just something I do, I guess.

I let out a breath of air in relief to the answer; potential bomb avoided.

I looked out the bus window, grimacing when I saw the hotel was in sight.

I've got to go. See you tomorrow?

I await hopefully, but I groan when I realize that we had entered the dead zone; the guys who ran this shit always made sure the internet was down wherever we were at so nothing could get out. I had zero bars, and I knew using my phone data wouldn't work either.

The bus grumbles and sputters to a stop, and I grab my bag as I get off.

"See you later, old man."

"Don't die on me, son." I laugh, shaking my head in amusement. Dying would mean losing.

I didn't lose.