Chat met Mirko - Rumi Usagiyama

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Mirko - Rumi Usagiyama

Je verhaal begint hier

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Atop a gray concrete build was Mirko underneath the shadow of a water tower, her right breast squishing against a rust steel strut as she peered through a pair of binoculars at the streets below. It was made of cheap plastic that hinted to its origins from a nearby convivence store. The acquisition was easy enough. She walked through the front doors and lifted it from its hook, the proclamation that it was for hero business was more than enough for the gullible clerk behind the counter. While not very noble, the minor crime had to be overlooked for a more vital task. "Dere you are, pretty boy." Mirko's hips swayed from side to side to a excited melody she hummed as she leaned forward. A cold breeze caressed the exposed bronzed sides of her haunches, shooting a delicious frisson up her back. "Same time again? Heh, atta boy. So many flag when it comes to being consistent. Not you. No, never you." Down below on the street across from here was Jij, grocery bag in hand while its brother swayed at his side. He turned off into a dark alleyway he used every two days when topping up his fridge with the basics, disappearing out of sight. Her palms began to tingle as the time came. If she doesn't reveal her feelings soon, she might go insane from the stress in her chest. Now or never, Rumi. Tossing the cheap binoculars over her shoulder, Mirko emerged from her cover and ran with a start. Her powerful quads tensed before the Rabbit Hero hurled herself across the avenue, her tall ears flapping in the wind, and rolled onto the apartment building's roof. A quick scurry had her looking over the building's edge. Jij was almost at the other mouth of the alley, her plan slipping away with every second she refused to act. She hesitated. What would she say when she got down there? A simple 'hi' would look lame and too casual. She needed something more bold. Jij liked bold, right? Mirko shook her head. She had to act! A moment to fill her lungs with cold air later, she vaulted over the edge and clicked onto the dirty concrete of the backstreet. "Hey there, cowboy, fancy meeting you here," she drawled as she leaned on a nearby dumpster and resisted the urge to wipe off the muck now on the underside of her forearm.