Maigo- A BNHA OC Story

Watching

He's slumped against the wall in a back alley. It's the easiest way for him to hide, without cutting off his ability to move. If he stays perfectly still, no one notices. If he doesn't make a sound, no one notices. No one notices.

Not even the girl.

He had come to realize that she could notice just about anything. She had a specific pattern in the way she walked: step, step, pause and look, step, step, pause and look. Her head darting left and right, cocking this way and that anytime a new sound was introduced. Her eyes were bigger than they should be, her eyebrows reaching for her bangs, trying to pull down the hacked, dry, split hairs over the rest of her face. She would plaster herself against the walls of the buildings, trying not to be noticed. Today, she managed to make it back to the convenience store.

He watched her as she dashed inside, tripping over the rut in the doorway. He watched her as she slipped behind the shelves, crawling toward the back, reaching for small items and stuffing them in her coat. He watched her as she glanced at the security cameras, waiting for just the right moment, waiting until she was just out of their sight, to drop something else into her pocket. He watched her reach across a young woman to grab a sleeve of crackers and hide it. He watched as the lady smiled down and chuckled at her, asking her if she needed any help. And he watched her as she looked around, marking off an invisible checklist, like an adult at a real grocery store making sure they got everything before leaving.

And now, he watches her as she creeps up to the cash register again. She procures one item for the cashier- a single apple, the only item too big to fit in her jacket without being noticed.

"Alright, li'l miss," the cashier chirps. "You're grand total today is 80 yen!"

The girl fusses around in her pockets, making furtive glances at the man while she struggles to keep the items hidden from view. A single packet drops to the floor.

Time stops. The girl freezes, her eyes glued to the packet now resting silently on the floor. The man across the street makes no move, shows no emotion. He just waits and watches. Waits and watches.

Back in the convenience store, the man waits patiently his hand still outstretched. The girl shoots a quick glance in his direction, unfreezing herself, hastily kicking the packet under the counter, its shiny cellophane reflecting the sharp white lights of the store.

The cashier didn't notice?

Hesitantly, the girl brings her hand back out of the coat. The man across the street leans closer to the store front, never taking his eyes off the girl's hand as she goes through the motions of presenting her money to the man behind the counter. Except for one key detail.

There was no money in her hand.

The man across the street appears to fall asleep. He starts to count in his head.

Five...

The girl's arm stretches out, hand still clutching the air, her eyes never leaving the cashiers face.

Four...

Her fingers brush the cashier's hand, sweat beading on her forehead, eyebrows stretched towards that sky.

Three...

The cashier's hand closes around the air above her clenched fist. It takes all her effort to keep her focus.

Two...

The cashier's hand pulls away. The man across the street knows what's happening. He knows that the cashier can see money that doesn't exist, and that is all he has been seeing for who knows how long. But now, it's time to stop the fun.

One.

Across the street, the man's eyes snap open. His irises, which were usually a dull black, now shone a bright, bloody red. His hair flew up out of his face, scarf floating and dancing around him. He did not move from his spot on the wall.

Inside the store, the cashier takes on last look at the money in his hand. Then another glance. And another. He tries to wrap his head around what he is seeing- or rather, what he isn't seeing.

He gives the small girl in front of him a nervous chuckle. "Uh, sweetie, you do know you need to give me real money for that apple, right? If you want to play pretend, that's okay. You can just give me the apple, and we'll pretend that you paid for it, and you can go home."

The girl is shocked, confused. Her head swivels on top of her neck, eyes silently begging anyone to tell her what just happened.

Across the street, the man stands, unblinking, watching.

The girl looks down at the apple in her hand. It's shin red skin smiles back up at her. Shaking, she inches closer to the counter, gingerly placing the apple on the edge.

"Thanks, girlie," the cashier beams down at her. "Now, if you want, I can save this apple here for you, and you can go ask your mother for real money to pay for it!"

The girl takes one last look at the apple, one last look at the precious savior, something that could feed her for the entire day. The white spot twinkled like stars on a clear night. She was so close, what happened? Why didn't it work? No matter. She had to get out of there, now. Before anything else went wrong.

She still didn't notice the two red eyes tracking her every move.

The girl sullenly shuffles toward the door, her movements awkward, trying to hide any suspicious bulges from view. The look on her face is a beautiful bouquet of defeat mixed with fear. What could she do now? She was running out of time. If she failed now, there was no way she could muster up enough strength to go through this again. Was it already too late?

In her haste, she barely notices the rut in the doorway. Her arms jerk up, colliding with the pavement outside, skin scraping across the rough, uneven surface. The small items stashed away in her coat pockets take flight, scattering themselves all over the ground next to her. As she lays on the ground, she can hear the cashier thundering over. Panic rises in her lungs. There was no way she could get out of this.

"Oh my goodness! Are you al-" the cashier stops mid-sentence, taking in every piece of the sight splayed out before him. The girl scrambles to her feet, skinning her knee along the way. Tears collect in her eyes, while her breathing comes out in short, quick huffs.

The cashier's face swells with rage, darkening to a hot, shiny red.

"How DARE you try and steal from my store!" He bellows, shaking the girl right down to her shoes. Grabbing a broom, he begins to swing at the small, pink-haired rat that stood before him. The girl ducks once, twice, three times. The cashier swings once more and catches her in her stomach. The girl lets out a strangled squeal, buckling at the waist and knees. She crawls as fast as she can away from her impending doom, scuttling on hands and knees, all matter of dirt and grime tearing away even more of her already tattered pants and gloves. Gasping, she makes it to the alleyway and dives back into the pile of garbage bags.

The man across the street watches all of this unfold. And then, ever so calmly, he blinks his eyes, and walks away.