Overkill: Incarnations Chapter 13: Chapter 13 ; being stupid once
Read chapter 13 of Overkill: Incarnations by Kudo_Aosakka on NovelPedia.
CHAPTER XIII: It was an early afternoon ordinarily towering buildings sat quietly, their concrete edges softened by overcast light. It was just ordinary architecture in an ordinary, quiet city on an otherwise ordinary day. The world was dark, filled with the rich scent of dry vanilla, old parchment, aged oak, marble dust, and a faint hint of autumn leaves. The atmosphere was calm, punctuated only by the rhythmic, hollow clack of heels on polished stone somewhere behind him, accompanied by the dry, raspy thrum of a heavy page turning. Kuro opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by the leather spines of countless books. Some were open, others were closed, and most were stacked precariously atop one another, almost barricading him within a fortress of literature. He looked around the spacious room. Oak shelves lined the walls, packed tight with even more volumes. Above those shelves, intricate, contorting circular runes were engraved into the stonewalls at perfect intervals. The runes shimmered with a luminous, vibrant, golden glow, adding a regal feel to the otherwise empty library. Kuro adjusted his posture to sit upright on the marble floor, leaning his back against the wall of books with his arm resting upon a few thick lexicons. Held loosely in his hand was an open book. "You're finally awake, Kuroshiraga. I never expected you to doze off so quickly, especially after drinking that much coffee." The soft, even voice came from behind, its tone casual and calm. Without shifting his torso, Kuro turned his head to look toward the source. Tamiyo stood there, her long blonde hair gathered into braids that cascaded over her shoulders down to her chest. Simple bangs framed her forehead, and she wore ordinary, casual black clothes. Kuro stretched and adjusted his body to shake off the numbness of sleeping in one position for too long. His eyes were still heavy with sleep. With a strained, gravelly voice, he replied, "Ah, Miss Tamiyo, that's right. I keep forgetting that coffee makes me unusually sleepy shortly after I drink it. I should have told you beforehand. My bad." The young lady looked down at him and let out a soft chuckle, gracefully covering her lips with a pale, soft hand. "My, Kuroshiraga. Please drop the formalities. Like I told you already, Tami is just fine." Kuro embarrassedly scratched his head. "Oh, yeah, right. Sorry, Tami." He straightened himself out and stretched a little more. Looking down, he noticed his new clothes were disheveled, so he began to smooth out the creases. Kuro let out a short sigh as the scent of the library mixed with a much more familiar aroma. His clothes still had that distinct scent of being freshly bought, and the price tag was still dangling from the side of his shirt. Tami watched him, her expression entirely unreadable. Her pristine face always made it incredibly difficult to discern what she was thinking or feeling. "How do you like the clothes? I hope they are comfortable enough to wear." Kuro was indeed wearing new clothes, though they weren't bought with his own money. The kind Miss Tamiyo had paid for them entirely out of her own pocket. Because Kuro had not wanted to pick anything too expensive, he had settled on a simple grey T-shirt, baggy black cargo shorts with numerous pockets, black fingerless hard-knuckle gloves, grey socks, and black sandals. 'These clothes are near perfect. I prefer baggier clothes anyway. It is much better than walking around shamefully naked next to a lady.!' His fashion sense was unusual, perhaps even bizarre, but Kuro did not mind. His outward appearance was already strange, so what was a little more eccentricity going to do? "They are indeed comfortable. I selected them myself, after all, so you have nothing to worry about. Also, I am done reading through these books. I have a rough idea of how things work now." Tami looked at Kuro for a moment, then glanced at the barricade of books that obscured a majority of his figure. She