He was definitely getting a headache. Why had he thought this was a good idea in the first place? Helping refugees was one thing, but actually bringing them to friends' places and allowing them to see his face was definitely not Isa's style.
Every time he remembered her words he wanted to slap himself across the face. With a chair. Nonetheless, he'd gone to see her tonight, too, deciding to take a night off since his wound was still in its late healing stage and he wasn't supposed to be fighting people until it was fixed: healer's orders.
The Masked Avenger therefore skidded the roofs quietly, praying to all the gods and martyrs that he would not meet trouble along the way. Unfortunately, Isa had never been so lucky. As soon as he heard it, he looked up at the stars and glared.
Then, of course, he went to see what the hell was going on.