The Stray

Part 15 - Softballs Aren't Soft

Ugh . . . this chapter was a real DRAG to write. It was pulling teeth with every word. I really struggled to get this chapter out, but I knew I couldn't make my lovelies wait too long. So I hope this chapter isn't too disappointing. It's a bit of a filler chapter, to be honest.

On the other hand, I'm getting on a roll with my other story 'The Calm'-- it's based around Izuku as well. I'm really liking where that story's headed, so I'll be juggling that story along with this one. I have a feeling I'll fall into a schedule where I'll switch between them on the weekend-- 'The Stray' this weekend 'The Calm' the next weekend 'The Stray' the following weekend and so on.

Well, enjoy the filler chapter!

~ Nezumi

Softballs Aren't Soft

It was almost a relief when we finally jumped into the testing. All the nervous energy was happy enough to expend itself into physical exertion and I could focus on the goal ahead of me instead of the worries that crumpled my lungs like paper.

I could tell though, that my short time of luxury in the kind man's apartment had made me lose some of my keen edges. I could have sworn I could run faster a few months prior and I didn't remember being that winded after a sprint. I had grown a natural immunity to those things from my time on the street-- it was a bit of a necessity for someone like me, if I wanted to survive, after all.

Despite enjoying my time with the kind man and his friends, I felt rather angry at myself for allowing my hard-earned abilities to degrade in such a way.

By the time things had swung around to push-ups and the ball-toss my muscles were starting to burn, sweat was wetting my brow, and my breaths were coming faster than they reasonably should-- I swear I would get back into better shape after this. I shouldn't be this out of breath!

Inhaling sharply, I left myself sitting up as my last pushup I could squeeze into a minute was completed. My stomach ached and twitched uncomfortably from the workout.

"Well done," Vlad King congratulated, marking down my number on the clipboard.

I just exhale in relief. That was the last of the tests.

"Now, onto something else."

What?

Confused and slightly alarmed, I glance upwards at Vlad King who was looking unruffled as ever. Did I forget something? Was there still another exercise?

"Now this won't go into the official records. It's mostly for personal evaluation. Call it group curiosity," Vlad King says.

I was starting to worry. No-- I was starting to panic! This sounded very serious.

I was right, it was serious.

"We want to see your fighting experience since we have no clue what you picked up on the street. You'll be going up against me briefly."

Fighting?! A pro-hero?! Where they off their rocker?! Sure, I have some street experience, enough to know the basic do's and don't's of a fight-- dirty and otherwise-- but, still, the hero would mop that floor with me!

'Kill me now before I have to bear the humiliation . . .'

Gulping and feeling unsteady, I stand up, glancing to the kind man for reassurance. He meets my gaze, looking both unworried and unphased. That was his usual look so, it was both mildly calmly and yet providing nothing of substance for me to latch on to. It inspired the oddest combination of emotions in me. Combined it created the 'it's something, but I need more' emotion.