Curled up on the couch with her phone in hand, Matilda sipped from her hot chocolate. The scent of marinated meat wafted through the living room from the kitchen, cluing her in on what Allen was cooking today; one of her favorites. This was the kind of evening that made her feel guilty about not training, but Allen was strict about taking rest days.

Thankfully, he tended to be home to make sure she relaxed. He even found the time to prepare food. A noteworthy feat with his busy schedule, and something that made her appreciate him all the more. Despite his hero work, he made time to spend with her.

When he was around, she felt safe.

Matilda took another sip of her drink, savoring the taste as she glanced toward the kitchen. She could hear the soft clatter of pots and pans as Allen moved about, the sound familiar and comforting.

In an ideal world, she could responsibly spend the whole week this way. Unfortunately, they didn’t live in an ideal world. Not to mention she needed to keep improving. She wasn't satisfied with most of her showings since her debut. Some had been decent, but she hadn’t bagged a big victory over anyone as of yet.

She wasn’t some kind of glory hound or anything, but she didn’t want to disappoint all the people who had invested in her, and she wanted the image of Damsel to represent strength, not incompetence and favoritism.

While Nar’s presence on the team overshadowing hers was a factor in that he set the standard so high, she couldn’t blame him for her failures. Furthermore, they had him to thank for all their more intensive practice routines, which she had to admit were effective.

Granted, their team captain was patrolling solo more often recently, meaning he wasn’t present for training as often as the rest of them. She wasn’t naive enough to think he was doing so simply because he felt like it. He must be preparing for something, she just didn’t know what. And when she had attempted to probe him for information, she was met with that infuriating, arrogant dismissal of his.

Would Allen be willing to satisfy her curiosity on the matter? Unlikely, but she was going to try asking him over dinner regardless. For now, she let her eyes drift back to her phone.

Swiping to refresh the page, she read through a new string of comments on the video she’d been watching. This video wasn’t one of her own. Instead, it was shaky footage of Calliope, and her partner, Shade.

They had been sighted at a Venin front and gotten into a confrontation with Fetter. Frameshot had jumped in on the action as well, though the footage was just a few seconds long. She had already gone over it a few times the past week, but there really wasn’t much to be gleaned aside from the two vigilantes being better equipped.

She pursed her lips as she scrolled through the many different accounts giving glowing praise to the pair. What these people were saying was true, much as she would’ve liked to deny it so she didn’t have to face her own inadequacies. Having met them herself once, she knew she would get along well with Calliope, and Shade seemed to take his job very seriously. Which he had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt when he came to help out against Homeland.

Speaking of, that was another thing. People had compiled and posted every part of the Trooper chase that had been caught on tape. Including a shot of Shade and a car flying directly at the camera. Needless to say, that video had made the rounds. After that spectacularly coordinated battle against Ignis, it was the second time a clip of the young hero had gone viral.

And that was what he was: a hero. No matter what anyone else said about Aegis operatives only being in it for the money, he had gone above and beyond to keep innocent bystanders from getting hurt, even putting himself at risk to do so. She hoped his teammate would get a similar showing, to shut people up for good.

For the thousandth time, she lamented the fact that she was forbidden by the DHD from contacting any independents without strict supervision. If she had more freedom, she would set up a meeting, learn from them, and maybe earn a friend or two in the process.

Rubbing her eyes, she put her phone away and brought more of that heavenly cocoa beverage to her lips. The rich, velvety flavor warmed her from the inside out, but didn’t quite dispel the nagging feeling in her gut. She felt like she was spinning her wheels without making any real progress compared to everyone around her. Would she perform better if she cut herself free from the system?

The clatter of pots and pans shifted her focus back to the kitchen, where Allen was busy stirring a pot. The steady clink of utensils, the bubbling of a simmering pot—it grounded her, drawing her out of her self-critical spiral. She knew she was being hard on herself, but it was impossible not to be. The pressure to improve, to stand out, was ever-present. Something had to justify her ability to have moments like this.

“Dinner is almost ready. Should be about five more minutes,” Allen announced.

With a stretch of her legs, Matilda moved to the table and sat down. Her eyes settled on the polished wood while her guardian took the garlic bread out of the oven.

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“Allen?” she said hesitantly.

He glanced over his shoulder, his expression one of open curiosity. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“I was wondering whether you would be willing to look into extra training opportunities for me? Nar isn’t present as much as before, and Aquiveil can be a leader when he puts his mind to it, but…” she trailed off.

“Matilda, you’re doing great. You are not going to burn yourself out with extra hours,” Allen warned. “Although, if you really want to sharpen your skills even more, I might be able to sign you up for one of the cross-district sessions next month. I think they’re holding it in A22.”

A pit formed in her stomach as he said that. “I want to stay with you,” she blurted. She sat straighter and coughed into her fist. “What I meant was, I want to stay here and utilize the resources in my immediate environment.”

“We’re all quite busy at the moment,” Allen replied, grinning.

“I understand that, but I was thinking that I could perhaps get in contact with Calliope and Shade? If you endorse my request, surely the board will allow me to go meet them?” she said, her eyes pleading.

“Not going to happen,” Allen shot her down mercilessly. “But,” he pressed on with a raised finger when she opened her mouth to argue. “You may be seeing them sooner than you think.”

That brought her up short. She paused in what she’d been about to say in response and thought. See them sooner than she thought? To do what, exactly? As far as she knew, the DHD hadn’t gotten in contact with them before she had. And any attempts at recruitment that had been made were clearly shot down, given the fact that the two weren’t on her team at this current moment.

“What do you mean? Are they coming in for tryouts?” she asked, hoping to extract more information out of him.

Sadly, his response was a shrug and that smile that told her he was done talking about this topic. She tried a couple more times, but he didn’t budge, as expected.

Allen set the table and brought out the food. She relented by then, frustrating as it was, and decided to dig in. It was delicious, as always, and thoughts of heroism took a temporary backseat. Damsel could never permit such weakness, but for Matilda, on days like this, it was okay.

After all, she was supposed to spend the day with the man who took care of her when she needed it the most. She didn’t understand what made her worth that kind of care, but here they were.

Certainly, it was a far cry from her birth parents, who… did the unthinkable to her. She hated it when her mind went there, but her therapist had said it was unhealthy to suppress or disown that part of her.

For years, she had lived in hell. It didn’t take long to figure out what was happening to her wasn’t normal, but that didn’t mean she saw a way out, not when it was made abundantly clear to her that letting someone else know would have dire consequences. So she suffered in silence.

When things had finally escalated to match her worst nightmares, no heroes came for her. At the height of her pain, of her desperation, she had seen the vision. And afterwards, she had been stronger than she could have imagined.

The monsters in human skin she had come to fear so much were suddenly on the ground, broken and bleeding. She didn’t even remember beating them, only seeing them there and breaking through the wall with a chunk of the radiator, dripping crimson.

Once she was out, scared and alone and running barefoot on cold asphalt, with nothing and nobody to turn to, he had been there. Floating on a stormcloud, hail and lightning swirling around him, Mistral found her sprinting across the street in her birthday suit.

He didn’t ask what happened. Didn’t need to. He’d simply come down, draped his cape around her, and said, “You’re safe now.” Words she had never expected to hear in her life.

Following that fateful meeting, she didn’t want him to disappear again, as he no doubt did with all the other thousands of people he’d saved. And to her surprise, he hadn’t, choosing to take her in. She had gotten to know the patient, kind, caring Allen underneath the mask. The person she could never possibly repay.

The road to recovery was long, and she hadn’t fully walked it, not even close, but he had supported her the whole way.

“You belong to me.”

Those words still haunted her, some days. She would feel like she was back there, experiencing it all over again. In the beginning, it could make her wake up screaming, but Allen would be by her side, letting her know they couldn’t hurt her anymore.

Times like this, where she sat with him eating an exceptional meal in a comfortable chair with nice, soft clothes on, she didn’t deserve them. That was why Damsel had to be great. To show that she was more than just a useless victim, a scarred girl, a freeloader.

She turned to her plate again. The air between them was easy, the sound of clinking utensils the only noise as they finished up. Allen stood and moved to take the dishes to the sink, but Matilda abruptly walked up to him and wrapped him in a tight hug.

“Careful not to crush me, okay?” he wheezed, gently embracing her in turn. “I don’t want to bother Radi at this hour.”

She loosened her hold a bit. “I love you,” she said, her words muffled in his chest. He smelled like home.

Matilda held onto Allen a moment longer, letting the warmth of his presence anchor her. It was a rare gesture for her—physical affection didn’t come easily. But Allen never pressured her, never pushed her to give more than she was comfortable with, and that was perhaps why she felt so secure in moments like this. He always let her come to him on her terms.

Eventually, she let go, looking up at her favorite person in the world with a small, sheepish smile, which he returned with a fond, tired look. “I love you too. Now go get the ice cream out of the freezer.”

She nodded and went to get their dessert. Living like this wasn’t anywhere close to what Matilda had expected when she made her bid for freedom, but now, she couldn’t imagine having it any other way.