picarexque:
As expected she’s practically tried the obvious. He feels sorry for her, to have gone almost everywhere and come up with nothing. To have your determination, that drive come back with nothing. It’s a painful experience. He turns away from her for a second and places his phone back in his pocket he’d join — if time even allowed. Not only is he busy with part time jobs and all his confidant obligations he makes sure to keep up with ( it is because of them the good fight is a supplied war and not a pitiful punch ) not to mention being a Phantom Thief. Free time is an absent thought an after thought even. Why preoccupy himself with a club when he’s got a city to clean.
But still, that downtrodden look in her eyes, it reaches to his heart.
“Come by? Ah you — do know who I am right? The transfer student. ” the rumors of the delinquent ( killer ! killer ! he’s got a knife in his pocket ! ) have reached every member of his school now. While its good that the rumors cause people to not pay him too much mind otuside of school, and it’s caused him to get information when needed, ever playing the part of a trickster, the scared expression on people’s faces isn’t one he wishes to see. Maybe she doesn’t know his face. But just stating the title of transfer student should be enough to scare her away.
“ If I came by I’d probably scare people in your club. ” a small laugh follows as fingers go to mess with the front curl of black hair.
She laughs a little, as much in disbelief that she might not have heard the rumors as he is. She’s heard plenty about him, and little of it good, but that’s just part of his allure, so to speak. Humans (and, though she is not truly human, she is included in this) have always had a fascination with that which they didn’t understand, or that which was mysterious and unknown to them. It was without a doubt that the rumors made him into something dangerous and mysterious, but without them she knew even less, and that was more intriguing still.
She plays up her downtrodden look, but whether it’s an intentional ploy for his sympathy or an unconscious act is debatable. Even she herself wouldn’t be entirely sure, the line between her own desires and her programming having become increasingly less and less clear. She wonders, vaguely, if any one else had ever (or would ever) be haunted by similar thoughts and questions. Probably not likely, she would always be alone in this.
“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind! It’s not like there are many people anyway... We just want enough to be official!”
