A Girl and A Hitman - Chapter 7

A few days after returning home, I received a call from the client saying, “I have rediscovered the girl.” I wondered why she had gone back to the same outfit. My imagination was racing. Was the girl wanting to see me? In the eyes of the world, I was a lazy second-year college student. The reason I chose to be a college student was, as mentioned earlier, because I enjoyed observing people and disliked idleness. However, in the lecture hall of the university I entered to

I was watching the girl sleeping during high school class from a distance. It was probably about 1 kilometer away; at this distance, there was no worry of being noticed. The face of the girl sleeping looked very young, unlike the calm demeanor I had seen last time.

Now that the girl is asleep, I could probably kill her from this distance. But I didn’t feel like doing that. Even after the seventh period ended and the girl woke up, I didn’t see her talking to anyone. I lay in wait for her at the school gate. Even when she recognized my presence, she didn’t say anything in particular. Before passing by me, she gestured with her head to move forward.

“Do you have business with me?”

“Ah, yeah, I know.”

“Weren’t you taught any methods for being a less noticeable stalker?”

“I know, but it wouldn’t mean anything to you anyway.”

When he said that, the girl chuckled softly. Her smile was as beautiful as a blooming flower. When he asked if she wanted to go to a coffee shop, the girl readily agreed. Of course, it wasn’t a place where the kind of customers he mentioned before were present.

Seeing me smoke a cigarette while walking, the girl said with a slight smile, “I’m glad you’re using it.” I had smoked just to see this reaction, but I remained silent. It felt like first love, so pathetic. Did I ever feel this way back then?

“Did you enjoy the whiskey?”

“I broke the bottle and spilled it.”

I lied.

“That was really expensive, you know.”

“It should be cheaper than the travel expenses, right?”

“Well, that’s true.”

We took a seat in the back of the coffee shop, away from prying eyes. The master came. As a long-time regular who gets along well with him, he goes out of his way to come and ask for my order. Or rather, he comes to decide for me. I said, “Ice Kona Black.” The master looked surprised that I didn’t choose the “chef’s special.” When I looked at the girl, she said, “I’m fine, I didn’t bring any money.” I said, “And a lot of hot Kona sugar on the side.”

“Sweeter than I expected,” the girl said happily as she drank her coffee. I asked, “Why did you do that?” but the girl just stared blankly and replied, “This is my first time trying Hawaiian Kona coffee. It’s incredibly sweet.”

“It’s sweet because it has a lot of sugar in it; that’s not its original taste.”

“I know. Are you an idiot? By the way, I’m a huge fan of sweets.”

I see.

“Are you a sweet tooth too, Stalker-san?”

“Maybe.”

When I asked the same question again, the girl said, “Do we look like a couple? Could you tell me again after we return to our adult forms like before?” “What do you mean?” I gave up asking and ordered four more pancakes. The sweet-toothed girl and I quickly devoured it.” To the stalker who seems to prefer people their own age, I have some disappointing news: this is my true self,” she said, moving her face away from her ear and smiling in a way appropriate for her age.

When they left the store, the girl spun around happily.” I’ve never had a meal with a stalker before. Ah, it was so much fun,” she said. I thought about asking why she doesn’t make friends, but I decided against it. The girl asked as we were parting ways, “Stalker-san, can I have another treat from you?” I, who had gone from being a hitman to a stalker, nodded.