Bart always lurked when he was waiting, behind street lights, on the sides of buildings, in alleys devoid of old homeless men who were going to beg you for spare change and then rant on and on about how the youth of America weren’t as generous as they used to be.
Passing the time that it took for the other person to show by pacing a dark corner of the city was his thing. Walking at a normal pace would have pulverized that wasting of precious time. Once in a while, he tried and didn’t accomplish anything, except for grumbling about how the guy in front of him was walking too slow and how if he got any slower he wouldn’t be moving at all.
It never worked.
Nobody would have thought that he’d be hurrying through busy streets and crowded sidewalks to get to a karaoke bar. But if accompanying Kira into a building full of people making fools out of themselves to music meant that she would feel just a little bit better, then he was going to suck it up and spend the night making fun of the karaoke participants who only wanted to be cool.
He could do that for her.
Glimpsing out over the side of the wall he’d backed up against (to hide, perhaps) Bart spotted her and took off in her direction, brushing passed the giddy (also likely to be terrible singers) patrons. He appeared beside her without anybody noticing that he’d practically disappeared.
“I bet none of these people have any skill. And that doesn't include you, of course.”