"Bashenga left a legacy that the people of Wakanda will never forget,"
"I'm pretty sure he did," Imani stood beside T'Challa. "He's the first Black Panther who set up the foundation of Wakanda."
"That's correct," he took a deep breath. "I wonder what he would say with everything happening as of late?"
"I don't have the answer to that, although I wish I did," she huffed, looking out to the city line of the great, isolated nation. "Whatever you decide to do T'Challa, it will be what's best."
"How do you know that?"
"You're one of the smartest people in the world for a reason, and not just because you have a Ph.D and created a whole new field of Physics," she chuckled, as he did too. "Besides, you're the King. The King of a beautiful nation."
"It must be since you say that so often," the King chuckled. "I'm glad you're enjoying your stay here."
"Beyond enjoying it," she turned towards him. It was a bit of challenge for her to communicate fluently with the King since he looked handsome in whatever he decided to wear. Even in his grey, Oxford sweatshirt and matching jogging pants, he looked more handsome than some guys from the States who spend hundreds of dollars on apparel.
"I can't help but to say I'm enjoying your company as well Ms. Adu," he stepped closer to her. "More than I should actually."
"What do you mean by that?"
The vibration of Imani's cell interrupted the increasingly intimate moment between the two. However, she ignored it, as this moment with the King was something she wanted to take in, fully.
"Don't you think you need to answer that?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No. It's not as important as what's happening right now,"
"It better not be, my love," he finally pressed his smooth, dark lips against Imani's, and for awhile, everything was complete and utter bliss.
With everything taking place currently in the isolated kingdom, bliss was something that they didn't think a whole lot of in Wakanda - the Eldorado of the World.
Scribe has spent her entire life in shame after a single incident during her exchange year at UA resulted in her expulsion from the school. She's dreamed of schoolmate Shota Aizawa ever since, hoping he will forgive her and come for her. Then the USJ incident unexpectedly drags her back into the midst of Japanese hero work from her American bookstore. Except Aizawa isn't the man who comes for her afterward.
EXCERPT:
"Can I help you?"
His face was hidden by the hoodie, but she had an odd feeling he wasn't as old as she'd thought. She could see his mouth. It was wide and generous, but the lips were oddly scarred and chapped looking.
"You're the one they call Scribe, aren't you?" He grinned lazily. "I've heard of you."
"Really?" She sat up straighter. Her work with heroes was not well known, even though All Might had paid her a visit or two here at the bookstore. For the most part, she was just hero support, and only on very rare occasions. She peered at the hooded figure curiously. "From who?"
"We have mutual friends. In Japan." He cocked his head thoughtfully. "I could swear I've met you before. You're very familiar."
She had an odd feeling he was right. Though she couldn't quite place him...maybe if he took off his hoodie, though...
"You weren't by chance in Japan recently, were you?" He reached across the desk, taking her hand in his as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
And I'm letting him. Scribe felt a strange tingle where he touched her skin. It was not an unpleasant sensation. "I... No. I wasn't in Japan."
"Really?" He tilted his head to one side and with his free hand, he pushed back the hoodie, revealing a blue-white shock of hair and red eyes. "I could swear I saw you...but maybe sensed is a more appropriate word. Yes, I could swear I sensed you at the USJ when I was taking care of business with All Might and Eraserhead."
She gasped, trying to stand, but he laughed. "Don't move too much, pretty. I don't want to hurt you."