Heroes on a Certain Night (2)

'I wonder how Club's doing right now...'

Hero Spade sat alone in the lounge on the 7th Squad's dormitory floor, lost in thought. In her hand was a freshly cracked-open canned drink. What came to mind was her fellow junior—now missing—Club. It had already been about five days since Club's kidnapping. And the order to halt the search had come down just this afternoon.

Spade had naturally objected, but Captain Rahe had only said she'd confirmed Club's safety. There was no arguing with the captain's words. Spade couldn't quite accept it, but she had no choice but to go along. She still harbored some resentment, but Check had encouraged her, saying Captain Rahe must have something in mind. The captain couldn't possibly not worry about her subordinate Club. She might be feared among villains as the "Ice Witch," but Spade knew she burned hotter than anyone for her comrades. If the captain had made that call, there had to be solid reasons behind it. So ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all Spade could do was trust and accept it.

Even convincing herself like that didn't fully erase her worries. She'd told Apple not to worry too much before—said it was rare but not unheard of in hero work, and not to let it weigh on her. Yet here she was, the one who'd pretended to be so casual, hanging on every detail. It left a bitter taste.

"Spade, you okay?"

"...Apple."

The one addressing Spade as she sipped her drink alone was Apple. With her hair in twin braids, round glasses, that soft expression, and especially her standout chest. From head to toe, she exuded a gentle, cozy, harmless vibe. Spade knew she was just a year older, but she carried herself with such mature poise it was hard to believe. How are we even the same generation?

"You look troubled. Is it about Club?"

"...Yeah. More precisely, I just can't figure out what Captain Rahe is thinking."

Apple sat beside the listless Spade.

"Captain Rahe mentioned you seemed worried, actually."

"That's why you came?"

"I could tell too— you've looked down since this afternoon. Hehe, last time you were the one encouraging me."

"...Embarrassing. After I went and said all that."

Spade wasn't shaken just by a comrade's kidnapping or death. But the frustration of knowing nothing about her fate—and being powerless to act—that gnawed at her. She didn't want to doubt the captain, but it was still a hard order to swallow. As she mulled over her feelings without voicing them, searching for the right words, Apple leaned in close.

"Spade, I'm hesitant to say this since it's not confirmed, but want to hear it? It's about Club."

"...? What? Go ahead."

"Well, I overheard something once... It seems like Captain Rahe might be planning a deal with the villain group that took Club."

"?!"

Spade whipped around to stare at Apple in shock. Apple glanced around cautiously, as if afraid of being overheard, then continued softly.

"It's not certain, and I don't know the details of the deal. But it looks like they're using Club as leverage. Something like, 'Keep searching, and her life is forfeit.'"

"No way... Is that for real...?!"

"Spade, your voice! Keep it down."

Apple warned her, but Spade could hardly calm down. A deal? With those villains? Blackmail, even? The unexpected info sent her mind spinning.

"Not great talking here—shall we continue in my room? Come with me."

"...No, Apple. I need to see the captain first."

Spade rejected the offer, chugged the rest of her drink, and tossed the can in the trash. As she started to stand, Apple grabbed her arm.

"Spade, wait."

"Apple, I—"

"Look at me, Spade. Just for a second."

Spade tried to speak, but Apple's firm tone silenced her. She looked. What is she getting at?

"Spade Jack was hung on the guillotine."

'......Huh?'

A phrase she'd heard somewhere before. But where? Her memory failed. More than that, her head felt... Spade's eyes dulled instantly. Her unsteady stance gave way, and she slumped back onto the sofa like a puppet with cut strings.

"Mm, I was hoping to lure her naturally to my room, but no dice. She's so unpredictable. Dealing with impulsive types is such a pain."

Apple muttered, but Spade—now a soulless doll—sat motionless, unresponsive to the words. Apple hooked her arm through Spade's and whispered in her ear. Spade staggered to her feet and followed Apple's lead. They headed to Apple's room...

Ah... Aah... Ah... Hoo... Nngh...

In Apple's room, two heroes were entwined, a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠woman's sweet moans faintly echoing. Moments ago, Apple's brainwashing key had plunged Spade into a doll-like hypnotic state. Now, on the bed, Apple's hands roamed Spade's body freely, pressing pressure points to stoke her arousal and aid her heat.

"Spade, Spade. Focus on my hands more. Embrace it with naughtier feelings."

"Hehehe, you're so cute, Spade. Adorable. So strong normally, but you melt so fast for lewd stuff—it's too precious."

"So let's feel it more. Get even lewder."

Apple whispered like a spell. With each word, Spade's body heated up, flooding with filthy sensations.

Apple slipped her hand into Spade's defenseless crotch, under her panties. She kneaded and toyed with Spade's pussy over the fabric. Just that much, and Spade was already moaning uncontrollably, her body twitching. Apple pushed her tongue into Spade's ear. The twitching intensified. With a sigh, burning words escaped her lips: "Apple... Appple..."

"Oh dear, no no."

"Don't you have someone you crave more than me right now?"

"Someone you want even more."

"Spade's master is waiting."

Apple whispered in a lascivious, bewitching tone. Spade stared blankly into space, thinking, then spoke.

"No. 13... No. 13..."

Ah, yes. That name. Saying it, thinking it—bright light burst inside Spade like fireworks. A soft, pleasant warmth enveloped her too.

Uuuhnngh...!

She climaxed. Apple's caresses were mere surface teasing, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trivial. Yet recalling No. 13 pushed her over the edge. Astonishing.

"Good girl. You remembered well, Spade. Faster than yesterday. Better reaction than the day before. Good ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠job."

Apple kept rubbing Spade's spent pussy inside her panties, licking her cheek. Drool trickled from Spade's mouth. As Apple said, Spade had been trained here yesterday and the day before too. On days No. 13 couldn't tend to her, Apple managed it daily. After the department store incident, she was putting extra care into the sessions. Ideally, he'd take a week off for Dorothy to handle direct brainwashing... but with the 7th Squad so busy, it risked suspicion. No choice.

Apple continued caressing and massaging Spade—avoiding direct genital contact—whispering hypnotic suggestions. Guiding her thoughts, melting her ego, deeply embedding devotion to No. 13. When satisfied, she released her.

Usually, they'd escalate—naked bodies grinding in lesbian play to sate urges—but not tonight; she had plans. Her smartphone rang beside her. Unknown number, but she knew who.

He gave Apple some instructions, then hung up. She gazed fondly at the darkened screen, then approached Spade and whispered anew. Spade nodded, straightened her clothes, and staggered out of the room...