Chapter 44

One Punch Girl (in Training)

I bounced off and looked up, finding not a wall but a man. He was of a familiar massive size, but he was not decked out in black combat armor this time. Instead, he was dressed a lot like a lumberjack, with a beard to match it. It was the first time I’d seen the masked man without his mask and besides his size I never would have thought it was him. His eyes. They were so… normal, kind.

“Uh, I’m sorry,” I said.

He looked down at me over his bulk. “Hey now, you look a little familiar.”

“No, I’ve never met you be—“

“Yeah, you’re Fishbowl girl!”

I just smiled awkwardly and tried to walk around him but he held his arm out, barring my way.

“Hey now, where are you going? This is your celebration.”

I gestured back to Stephen and the crowd. “Obviously not.”

He stared at the contents of the room, taking it all in. He grinned. “Ah, your partner took all the glory, huh?”

He put his arm down, letting me leave if I wanted to, but I stayed rooted to the spot.

He leaned down closer to me. “I know it was you who bested me in that fight. There was no puppet master pulling your strings that day. Why are you letting him get the glory?”

I wanted to ask him how he could possibly know that, but I didn’t, hanging on the last of his words.

“I… don’t want it. Never liked the spotlight.”

He grinned. “Well girl, his fifteen minutes of fame are just starting. Might be a while before you can stand in the dark with him again. If at all.”

That didn’t make me feel better in the slightest. But could he be right? Maybe this was something that, once out of the box, it could never go back in. Maybe I would never have the Stephen I knew again.

I looked back at him, watching as he mingled with the crowd, absolutely living it up. The Stephen who was timid and shy around people already seemed to have vanished.

Just as I was about to turn away. Sam teleported into the middle of the room with the AI butler.

“Pizza!!” He said. “Come and get your pizzaaaaa!”

The already chaotic scene got even more so. Laughter at Sam’s body and anticipation of food. The pizza was handed out, greedy hands snatching the slices and being treated to the otherworldly bliss of Sam’s cooking.

I looked back up at the man, he had a weird expression on his face. I couldn’t quite describe it. Let’s just say he appeared to be excited for some pizza.

I had one more question for him. “Where are your lackeys?”

He didn’t look away from the chaos but answered, “They’re around.”

“You know, you guys would probably get some fanboys if you were wearing your masks. You helped a lot there at the end.”

He met my eyes. “I, too, am not a fan of the light. But I enjoy the shadows that it casts. Have a goodnight, Fishbowl.” He smiled and again I was struck with how kind he appeared. A gentle giant.

I wondered what his story was. I wanted to ask but he’d already made his way into the crowd, making a beeline for Sam and his slowly diminishing piles of pizza.

I was left alone at the entrance. My side of the room dark and quiet compared to the hustle and bustle on the other side. I caught sight of Stephen. He didn’t look up a single time.

Unnoticed by everyone, I disappeared inside the darkness.

#

I’ll go ahead and quell a little of your worries: that wasn’t the end of me and Stephen. But it was the beginning of a pause. The next day, he was pulled into a crazy media blitz, being toured around the Interverse, the absolute talk of the whole digital world.

A few days later, he messaged me.

[ Darcy, dude, this stuff is freaking wild. I haven’t been left alone since the night before the final fight. I really miss you. We totally need to hang out. I’m sorry I’ve been AWOL ]

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

There were several ways I could go with my reply. I could carry on like this, pick up the scraps of his time. I could confront him, tell him that we should be sharing the victory, he didn’t do it all himself. Or…

[ It does seem crazy! Don’t worry about it. Just so you know, I think I’m gonna step aside for a while. I want to train. Get ready for the tournament. ]

[Oh, yeah damn, that’s a good idea. We should so get back to it. I gotta wait for things to settle down a bit though. I’ll let you know! ]

I decided not to wait around for the fifteen minutes to end. After those messages, I immediately messaged our teacher.

[ Hey! I want to keep up my training. Is there a time that works for you to meet? ]

He sent an invitation to his office almost instantly. I smiled, at least someone was still on the ball.

I phased onto the oh so familiar couch.

“Darcy,” he said, smiling. “You did it.”

You. Not we, or us. Me. I appreciated that wording.

“I did! Sorry for not showing up earlier. We had a party but, uh, didn’t know if that was something you could make an appearance to?”

He shook his head. “No, we should probably keep our public appearances together to a minimum. Beyond the support group, of course.”

Damn, I’d almost forgotten about those. I didn’t know if I’d ever set foot in one of them again but I would always be grateful. Without that meeting none of what had happened these past few weeks would have been possible.

“No Stephen today?” He asked.

“No. Probably not for a long time.”

He nodded, a knowing look in his eye. “I’ve seen some of his countless interviews. He is in high demand.”

“Yeah.” I crossed my legs.

“Does that bother you?”

I wagged my finger at him. “Uh uh, I didn’t come here for the therapy part of your talents.”

He laughed. “You should know by now that both of my chosen fields are linked.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I know. But, come on, I want to get my mind off things right now. Not delve into them head first.”

“Not today. But…?”

“Yes, soon. I’m sure you will be the first person I come crying to. Now, for TODAY, can you please give me something to punch?”

“When have I ever given you something to punch?” That twinkle in his eye.

“You know, the brain dummies. Let me hit some of those.”

“That won’t accomplish much, Darcy. If you want to raise your strength you will have to go elsewhere. But… how about I show you how to use your energy in your fists. Would that suffice?”

I shot up off the couch. “Yes! Show me that!”

He laughed. “I’m afraid this is a simple lesson. You would have figured out how to do it on your own eventually.”

He waved his hand and the room became a void again. A brain dummy appeared from the floor. Just one.

“You know how I showed you how to shield areas of your body with your energy?”

I nodded and demonstrated it, cycling thought different areas of my body.

“Just put it on your fists. Lesson complete.”

I did as he said. My fists were surrounded in my blue energy, looking like boxing gloves made of giant bubbles.

“That’s it?” I punched the dummy. It definitely packed more of a punch than, well, my normal punches. But not a crazy difference.

“When you do that trick, the normal way is to will for protection. Well, when you want to hurt… will it to hurt.”

I looked at my fists. I did as he said, willed my energy to hurt. The bubble gloves emitted a heat so intense that it was uncomfortable for me to hold.

The teacher noticed. “Give it something else to hurt or it will turn on you. Just like losing control during the Mind Link.”

I focused on the dummy and there was an instant shift. The heat changed direction toward the dummy, the energy lashing out, itching to hurt. I did as it commanded. My right fist darted forward and the difference compared to my earlier punch was impossible to miss. A loud WHAP cut through the training space and the dummy recoiled from the blow. A red mark burned from where my fist touched it.

“Wow,” I said. “You know, the mister Miyagi impression I had of you didn’t turn out to be true. You’ve taught me a lot of ways to fuck someone up and only gave me one lecture about it.”

I expected a laugh, but he was quiet. “Unfortunately, violence is often necessary. Besides, you wanted me to get you ready for a tournament. You have to know how to fight. But…”

“Uh oh, did I speak too soon?”

He finally laughed. “Violence is not always the answer. Just be aware of that. For example, right now, you are avoiding addressing your actual feelings by wanting to train. If you just talk it out with me we could—“

“No. I don’t want to talk. Not yet. It might sort itself out.” The teacher frowned at that. “We’ve had enough therapy. That thing with my mom to unlock my powers? That was majorly fucking upsetting, man. If that’s what therapy is like… no thanks. For now.” I added quickly.

“Darcy, the thing with your mom was only as bad as it was cause you held it in for so long.” He could tell I was firm in putting it off. He sighed. “Alright. Just… don’t avoid it for too long, okay? Can you promise me that?”

“I…” Could I promise him? I mean, I definitely didn’t want to end up with as much pain as with my mom. So don’t put it off for more than a year. That was doable, right? “I promise.”

“You can use this training mode of my office whenever you want, no need to ask.”

[ You now have access to Training Room! Get to punching! ]

“Really?” I couldn’t believe his kindness. “Even when I’m avoiding therapy?”

“What can I say… you ARE my favorite.” He winked and exited the training room before I could say anything.

I was too stunned to speak anyway. I just stood there for at least thirty seconds, a smile forming on my face. I knew I was his favorite! Someone appreciated me.

With that thought I was reminded of Stephen and his media blitz. My fists rocked with energy, almost looking like flames instead of bubbles, the blue tint had taken on a red glow.

I hit the dummy. WHAM. It jerked so hard it went down to the ground and then popped back up. I hit it with my other fist. It felt amazing.

I punched it, again and again. My mind playing things in my head. Stephen giving his speech in the writing nook. WHAM. The fact that Angelia hadn’t contacted me at all since that night. WHAM. WHAM. The endless threads of praise and obsession for Stephen. WHAM. “His fifteen minutes of fame are just beginning.” My fists became a blur as I beat the dummy to a pulp.

My thoughts and memories ran through my head until they condensed, becoming just a single face: Stephen. I punched and punched. The dummy was knocked about non stop, my fists continuing to wail on it until, reaching its limit, the dummy exploded. Splintered pieces of it rained down, brain matter dripped everywhere, sticking to my fist.

Panting, I let my energy drift away from my hands. I stared at the dummy, just a crumpled mass on the ground.

Yeah, I was gonna do a LOT more punching.

[ New Skill Learned! ]