Because of movies and TV shows, when someone thinks about what it's like to work as a bodyguard, they usually imagine something packed with tension and adrenaline.
A job where you're ready to spill blood to protect someone, surrounded by terrorists, forced to improvise everything just to earn that paycheck at the end of the month.
But the truth is, being a bodyguard isn't really like that at all.
And that's exactly why it's the best job in the world.
Inhale
Exhale smoke
Tatsumi was sitting on the sidewalk, his back resting against the wall that surrounded his client's apartment building, smoking without a single worry in his mind.
He watched the cars passing by, the clouds drifting lazily across the sky, pedestrians throwing annoyed looks at him because his legs were stretched out and blocking part of the sidewalk—and, most importantly, women's asses.
'Now this is work. There's nothing more satisfying than making a living doing what you enjoy.'
He took one last drag from the cigarette, now almost finished, then flicked it with his finger straight into the trash can across the street.
— Basket. — he muttered in satisfaction, before leaning back again.
It had been a full week since he started working as Misaki Hoshino's bodyguard, and every day followed the exact same routine.
Wake up, take the subway, report for duty, sit somewhere and enjoy the view.
If he had to point out one single flaw in that life, it would be-
— Umu-mu-mu-mu-mu-mu-mu…
Tatsumi lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder toward his client's apartment.
The window was closed, save for a tiny gap in the blinds that revealed a dark room beyond. From that narrow slit, two eyes glared at him with exaggerated hostility, glowing yellow like a cat's, while a stream of muffled, irritated murmurs leaked through the glass.
If this were an anime, there would definitely be a pitch-black aura flooding out of that window, jagged Japanese characters floating in the air, completely killing any sense of real menace the scene might have had.
Misaki was openly spying on him, clearly furious to find her bodyguard shamelessly slacking off when he was supposed to be "guaranteeing her safety." The noises Tatsumi heard were probably a long list of curses and complaints she didn't have the nerve to say out loud, each one unintentionally turning into those oddly cute, breathy sounds instead.
The moment she realized Tatsumi was looking back, she jolted, slammed the blinds shut, and ducked down beneath the window.
Something Tatsumi didn't actually see, but could easily picture, given their few interactions so far.
'Heh. I'd believe you were truly angry if you didn't make those weird noises while cursing me.' he thought, turning his attention back to his "hard work."
'Ugh. That one's got a hell of an ass, fits perfectly in one hand. Is she married?'
He pulled another cigarette from his jacket pocket and a lighter from his pants, shielding it from the wind with his hand as he tried to light it.
tchik tchik tchik
The wheel spun, sparks flashing, but no flame appeared.
— Come on, light already… — he muttered, irritated.
Despite being a smoker, Tatsumi had never been good with lighters, needing several tries just to coax out the weakest flame.
Only for the wind to snuff it out, forcing him to start the whole damn journey all over again
Just as he finally managed to get a flame going, he was interrupted.
— THIEF! SOMEONE STOP HIM!— a voice shouted, followed by the usual panicked noise people made when something suddenly became someone else's problem.
So focused on his struggle with the lighter, Tatsumi flinched. The tiny flame died instantly before the cigarette could even catch.
— …You've gotta be kidding me. — he muttered, clearly irritated, as he snapped his gaze toward the commotion.
He spotted the culprit almost immediately. A figure sprinting down the street with something clutched to their chest, ugly, twisted horns jutting out from various parts of their body.
Between the frantic expression, the sloppy running posture, and the sheer obviousness of the situation, Tatsumi didn't need a second guess.
Yep. Definitely the bad guy.
Annoyed with life in general, Tatsumi planted a hand on the ground, starting to push himself up. He could end this nonsense in a few seconds if he wanted to-
Then he stopped.
…Actually, this wasn't his problem.
Not the thief. Not the guy who got robbed. Not the bystanders screaming. And definitely not anyone who thought a hired bodyguard like him was obligated to play hero.
'You know what? Smoking's bad for your lungs anyway. If God doesn't want me to light a cigarette, who am I to argue?'
With that settled, Tatsumi adjusted his posture, lacing his fingers behind his head and lying back comfortably on the sidewalk. The shadow of a conveniently placed streetlight fell right over his eyes, shielding him from the sun as he relaxed.
Back to work.
*Footsteps*
The sound of frantic footsteps grew louder, heavy and uneven, closing in fast.
Tatsumi didn't open his eyes.
At the very last second, as the horned thief leaped forward, Tatsumi casually bent one leg while lifting the other just enough, resting his ankle over his knee as if he were merely stretching.
Bam
The thief's shin slammed straight into Tatsumi's raised leg.
— Guh?!
His balance vanished in an instant. Momentum carried him forward as he crashed face-first into the pavement with a dull, pathetic thud. Whatever he had stolen skidded across the ground, stopping a few meters away.
Tatsumi cracked one eye open and glanced sideways at the mess he had created.
— …Huh.
He adjusted his leg back into a comfortable position and sighed, still lying flat on the sidewalk.
— Hey! Whatch where you're going, shit. — He said, now even more pissed.
'A man can't even work in peace.'
But the thief wasn't paying attention to whatever the fuck he was, he wasted no time.
With a hiss of pain, he scrambled back to his feet, snatched the stolen item off the ground, and immediately bolted again, panic written all over his face.
— Shit-!
He didn't get far.
A massive hand suddenly grabbed the back of his shirt, fingers closing around the fabric like a vise. The thief's feet left the ground as if gravity had simply stopped applying to him.
— That's far enough. — a deep, booming voice echoed.
Gasps rippled through the street.
The people around them turned just in time to see a towering figure step forward. A man easily more than three meters tall, his body built like a walking wall of muscle, skin thick and dense, veins bulging unnaturally beneath the surface.
— I-It's Titan!
— The hero Titan!
— No way…!
The thief dangled helplessly in the air as the hero lifted him with one arm, the man's horns looking laughably small in comparison.
— A mutation-type Quirk. — someone whispered in awe. — His muscles are super dense. He's insanely heavy, tough, and strong…
Titan clenched his fist slightly.
— Crime has no place on my watch. — he declared proudly. — As long as I stand, the people will be safe!
The crowd erupted.
— Amazing!
— He stopped him so easily!
— That's a real hero!
Titan held the thief up effortlessly, arm flexed as he turned slightly to make sure everyone could see him. Cameras flashed, people cheered, and his voice rose above the noise as he delivered a confident, rehearsed speech about justice and public safety.
In the distance, sirens grew louder, police cars closing in far quicker now that the danger was already dealt with.
But if there's one thing people easily overlook, it's Tatsumi lying on the sidewalk just a few steps away from all that spectacle, eyes half-open as he stared at the sky.
The crowd flowed around him as if he were invisible, no one questioning his presence, no one bothering to acknowledge that he had been there before the hero arrived.
To everyone watching, the story had already been decided, and Tatsumi simply wasn't part of it.
Tatsumi exhaled through his nose.
— Figures… — he muttered.
He reached into his pocket once more, pulled out the lighter, and flicked it without much expectation.
tchik
The flame came on the frist try.
Surprised, he lit the cigarette, took a slow drag, and finally relaxed, letting all the stress and the noise fade into meaningless background chatter.
Bit somewhere above him, behind a barely open window blind, two glowing yellow eyes had been watching the entire scene, frozen in stunned silence.
...
From her spot by the window, Misaki decided she had seen enough.
She quietly slid the blinds shut, the thin slats clicking softly as the outside world disappeared. Taking a small step back, she hugged her arms to her chest, her shoulders relaxing only after the street was completely out of sight.
While everyone else either failed to notice, or simply refused to acknowledge, what had really happened, she had seen it clearly. If Tatsumi hadn't been there, if he hadn't tripped the thief at just the right moment, the criminal might have escaped before the hero ever showed up.
Her lips curved upward before she even noticed.
It was a small smile, restrained and shy, but undeniably proud.
Not of him, but of herself.
She nodded once, then twice, as if silently agreeing with her own thoughts. She had made the right call. She had hired him. A bodyguard who actually noticed things, who acted when it mattered, even if no one else seemed to care.
…Then her eyebrows twitched.
The smile wavered.
Her cheeks puffed out slightly as she crossed her arms tighter, turning her face to the side with a quiet huff.
The only problem is that this same bodyguard spent most of his time lazing around outside, smoking and staring at people like he didn't have a single responsibility in the world.
A slacker. A fake. A professional in name only.
Misaki squeezed her cheeks harder, visibly sulking.
'And to think I even thought he was kind of cute…'
Her face heated up instantly.
— N-No, no, no… — she whispered to herself, shaking her head quickly, long brown hair swaying with the motion. She pressed her palms against her cheeks as if trying to physically cool them down.
Flustered and mildly embarrassed by her own thoughts, Misaki did what she always did best when things got complicated, she retreated.
Carefully watching where she stepped so she wouldn't trip over the trash bags scattered across the floor, she shuffled her way toward her desk.
A powerful gaming PC sat at its center, surrounded by an assortment of strange devices and cables that looked borderline suspicious to anyone unfamiliar with them.
She plopped down into her gaming chair, feet barely touching the floor, and immediately turned on the computer, as if speed alone could erase her thoughts.
The first game on her Steam library launched without a second thought.
As she played, her focus slowly returned… until it didn't.
Uninvited images slipped back into her mind, Tatsumi's relaxed posture, his calm expression, the way his eyes had lingered on her during their first meeting.
Misaki froze mid-input.
Her face turned pink.
— S-Stop it… — she mumbled, shaking her head again, glasses slipping slightly down her nose as she adjusted them with a flustered motion.
Suddenly, the sharp sound of a death notification rang out from her computer.
— Ah?!
She jolted, straightening up instantly and gripping the controller tighter. She shook her head one last time, forcing her attention back onto the screen.
Still, no matter how hard she tried to focus…
The faint blush on her cheeks stubbornly refused to disappear.