Zenkichi’s gaze swept over the red-haired girl, scanning her posture, her expression, the easy way she smiled and spoke. No tension, no immediate hostility—just casual, open curiosity. And innocence, almost disarmingly so.
Still, the instincts that came with being both a cop and a Shadow Weapon flickered at the back of his mind with his cognitive scan giving way to a few conclusions. A Wild Card. A powerful one, at that.
But... she sure didn’t feel like a threat.
Instead of stiffening, Zenkichi just let out a low chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Heh. You should see the coat, then,” he quipped, shifting his weight. “Thing belongs in a historical museum.”
There was something mildly entertaining about the way she had taken in his entire appearance—the scar, the gear, the hat—before blurting out her thoughts. Not quite flustered, but close.
Akane, meanwhile, perked up at the mention of Featherman, her glowing red optics behind the mask whirring slightly. “Oh! Yeah!” she said, her voice laced with an awkward kind of excitement. “I, um… I actually don’t know that much about the show yet, but I just started watching the first few episodes!”
She fidgeted slightly, then gestured to her mask. “I thought Pink Argus and Red Hawk were really cool, so I—uh—made this! I mean, it’s functional. Can see right through it. I even thought of just wearing the whole suit but it might have been too on the nose-”
Zenkichi exhaled through his nose, cutting in gently before she could ramble too much. “Akane.” He tilted his head towards the other. “She just woke up. Give her a bit.”
Akane blinked, then quickly straightened, processing his words. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”
She wasn’t used to this yet—talking to people like this, as herself. She wasn’t just a floating projection this time. She wasn’t just a set of programmed responses.
no subject
Still, the instincts that came with being both a cop and a Shadow Weapon flickered at the back of his mind with his cognitive scan giving way to a few conclusions. A Wild Card. A powerful one, at that.
But... she sure didn’t feel like a threat.
Instead of stiffening, Zenkichi just let out a low chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Heh. You should see the coat, then,” he quipped, shifting his weight. “Thing belongs in a historical museum.”
There was something mildly entertaining about the way she had taken in his entire appearance—the scar, the gear, the hat—before blurting out her thoughts. Not quite flustered, but close.
She fidgeted slightly, then gestured to her mask. “I thought Pink Argus and Red Hawk were really cool, so I—uh—made this! I mean, it’s functional. Can see right through it. I even thought of just wearing the whole suit but it might have been too on the nose-”
Zenkichi exhaled through his nose, cutting in gently before she could ramble too much. “Akane.” He tilted his head towards the other. “She just woke up. Give her a bit.”
She wasn’t used to this yet—talking to people like this, as herself. She wasn’t just a floating projection this time. She wasn’t just a set of programmed responses.