Tommy's Ultra-Important Keychain

Chapter 31: Hiding in plain sight

Tommy frowned.

"Fights with Speedrunner will always end with either a win or a loss," Purpled elaborated. He grew distant. "But Ace will go as far as necessary to secure a victory. Mental or physical, he will take something from you, and you will never get it back."

Tommy fidgeted with his hoodie, well aware of Ace's past tendencies. The scars that decorated the cruel hero's face came to mind, like incriminating pieces of evidence.

He wanted to argue, to say that he hadn't lost a thing. Then, Tommy imagined stepping foot back in the hero agency. His skin itched, and the back of his neck prickled. It hadn't been long since his release from the hospital, and still he could find remnants. The after-effects lasted longer than the last few times he had experienced his gift rejecting a mental power – and he was certain that was what it was based upon those previous experiences.

Tommy wanted to ask what Ace had taken from Purpled. What had he stolen that made him so stoic, so careful? Years of his life? Sentiments he held dear? What had Purpled seen, and lived through? If he was Tommy's age, why did he feel so much older?

Purpled pulled back, eyes widening. He seemed to notice that he had strayed away from simple small-talk, and that he was approaching territory that Tommy wasn't used to. He rolled his shoulders, loosening up and letting an easy smile spill over his expression. Tommy flinched at how natural it was for Purpled to hide.

"Enough of that," Purpled said. "So, tell me what happened. What did that bastard Ace do to you? Your boss looked really mad in the pictures I've seen."

While it wasn't a horrible deviation from the topic, Tommy had to commend him on how the conversation had been shifted. These were questions he could answer. "Directed me oh-so kindly to the secret basement of the agency and offered me a job."

"That asshole," Purpled gasped, leaning closer, eyes twinkling. To outsiders, it probably looked like they were gossiping. Tommy smiled slightly. "You said no, right?"

"Duh," Tommy clicked his tongue. "Villainy and frozen yogurt pays much better."

"Heard that one before," Purpled snorted, and then slapped a hand over his mouth. Tommy raised an eyebrow. "Uh, never mind."

"What?" Tommy crossed his arms over his chest, musing, "You know a lot of froyo cashiers with a hobby of striking fear?"

"No," Purpled replied too fast, and it sounded like a lie. Tommy hesitated. "Listen, it's nothing. A slip of the tongue, honestly."

"Uh-huh," was what Tommy managed to get out. He decided not to dwell, since Purpled was visibly unwilling to carry on. "Anyway, I told Ace I didn't want to be his waterboy, he got offended, and I woke up in the hospital."

"That feels... oversimplified," Purpled mumbled, though he seemed grateful to be off the hook. "But it definitely sounds like him."

Tommy shrugged and took a long sip of his drink. A bell chimed by the doorway, and Purpled stood. A customer entered and approached the counter. Tommy watched his companion work, entranced by how easily he navigated himself. There was a sparkle in his eye that hadn't existed previously, and Tommy couldn't help but laugh that such a simple job brought it out of him.

The man at the counter wasn't anyone to write home about; Average height, slim build, in his twenties, completely normal. Tommy saw Purpled hand him his drink, and the barista's customer service smile hesitated. Briefly, the ex-hero locked eyes with him from across the store. Then, the man was sliding over a handful of cash and turning to leave.

He paused when he noticed Tommy's stare on him. The edges of his mouth curled upwards into a wide grin, and he walked out. Purpled returned to the table, frowning at the money in his hands. Tommy cleared his throat, "Aren't you supposed to put that in the register?"