=== CURT ===

"And now, I would like to welcome tonight's guest. Coming live from an undisclosed location, the elusive celebrity criminal, Esvanir. Can you hear me?" The Australian host stared with that vaguely unfocused stare that people always gave their computer screens on video calls. I took a deep breath. I had never been on TV before. Well, not on purpose anyway, and it took me a moment to find my voice.

  "Yes, Mister Thrawn. I can hear you."

  "David, please," the man said with a grin. "So, you have had quite a couple of weeks. First, your identity is revealed to the world in a fight with the Smash Gal, then you have your rematch, which ends in your favor. You've become a household name and a major political talking point. How do you feel about this?"

  "It's honestly just really surreal. I don't know how to deal with any of it. I've never really been a public figure and before the . . . uh . . . reveal, I had like five followers on Twitter. And no one ever thought to ask my opinion on much of anything. Now I have thousands of people seeking it."

  "Yes, so let's get your opinion on things. Let's keep it light for a while. Pineapple on pizza?"

  "I'm pro. Not all the time, but you know, the occasional Hawaiian is pretty good."

  "Oh, I think that might be your most controversial opinion yet." The reporter winked at the camera. "So, I'm sure you've seen the various responses from heroes and the ultra-wealthy and not-so-wealthy alike. They think you're a bit of a hypocrite, telling them they need to forfeit their fortunes when you are a thief and haven't given everyone your ability to teleport."

  I considered the man's words for a moment before shaking my head. "I think people misunderstand what I actually want for people. Andrew Wan says that he's spent a lot of money trying to improve the lives of the general populace, in part to feed his own greed, by his own admission. But he fails to realize that the taxes, that he pays such a small amount of, don't really cover the amount of infrastructure he wrecks with a single battle. He has the ability by himself, not even his company, to fund healthcare. Not just for the people who are hurt and don't qualify for the predatory loans and grants his subsidiaries pass out. And that's the other thing. A lot of the goodwill reparations he makes is subsidized by the government, so it's not nearly as philanthropic as Wan En would like us to believe."

  "That's all interesting, but it doesn't seem like your only bone to pick with him or heroes in general. In both of your fights with Smash Gal, you have implied that heroes are not exactly all they're cracked up to be. Would you care to explain that? This topic has seen a lot of debate online that has only grown more furious since you started trending."

  "Uh . . . Yeah, I was . . . maybe not as elegant with my words as I could've been." I paused for a moment. There was a violent pang in my chest. Kari's face etched in my mind as I worked to kill her. I clenched my fists and focused on the camera. "Heroes are irresponsible and answerable to no one. There has been a movement in the last couple of years to stand up to the injustices that the police have done against people of color, and that is a hell of a cause that I firmly believe in. But I would extend it to supposed heroes as well. Kari . . . Smash Gal herself has seen the cops' actions against people of color and how their unfettered power and lack of consequences have led to increasingly violent actions. And yet, the same could be said for these heroes. Since Bion first came on the scene all those years ago, he's become increasingly willing to use deadly force. Jenny the Cannoneer has gotten a couple of kills under her belt. Professor Mind has destroyed the minds of some of his victims. And as we saw almost two weeks ago, Smash Gal, someone who was initially very hesitant to use deadly force not two months ago, almost killed someone who she, herself, considers to be a petty thief. Solving every problem with violence seems to lead people to think that's the only solution."

  "And what about you?" The reporter said, his voice much less light and much more pointed. "You are also answerable to no one. You are literally a criminal. Don't you think it's hypocritical for someone like you to criticize people who are saving others on their methods when yours are even more illegal?"

  "Maybe," I admitted. "But I've never claimed to be anything more than a petty thief. And because I am still mostly powerless against these people. Since I've been thrown around like a rag-doll by them, just barely survived every encounter against them. Only doing so because of some luck and a gadget or two, I see things differently than they do. Smash Gal said it that night. The night she almost killed Buck Cherry. She thought I was no threat because I'm not powered."

  "Do you have anything you'd like to say directly to Smash Gal?"

  "I'd like to apologize," I responded immediately. I had given a lot of thought to this. "I really wish that I could. But the issue is that at this point, all I feel towards her is anger. She destroyed whatever friendship with me we had left. She might be necessary for threats like the Grignau and some of the more violent metas, but I just consider her a threat. Someone impossible to trust. Someone willing to kill people she doesn't even consider threats to her. So, while I'd like to apologize to her, I can't."

  Thrawn cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. He then composed himself. "Yes, well. Sp-peaking of Buck Cherry, how is she doing?"

  I opened my mouth to answer, but Cherry, who had been sitting on the side, listening, leaned into the frame and grinned. I looked at her. You could still see the violently purple bruises in the form of a handprint around her throat. Her face was still scratched, and her lips were cracked. She was still beautiful, but she was also really battered. "Hello, David. Can you hear me?"

  "Yes, I can," David said, nodding. "How are you, Miss Drei?"

  "I am doing great, considering. I never got a chance to thank you."

  "Thank me? For what?"

  "For my name," She said before sitting in my lap. She was wearing a bathrobe. I hadn't thought about it, but this was why. Cindi was a nudist whenever possible. She had always been planning on coming on. I couldn't help but grin. Just barely leaving Death's Door, and she was already back to her games. She pulled the robe to the side, revealing one of her several cherry tattoos. "I really like it. As you can see. I do wish that I was able to copyright it, but I'm told you did that for me."

  "Oh," Thrawn laughed a little nervously. "Yeah, well. I'm glad you like it."

  "I really do," she said. "But I still think you owe me. You've been profiting from my name this whole time. Do me a favor, will you?"

  The reporter gulped and looked away from the camera for a moment. "Oh? Well, I can try. But I'm not doing anything illegal, right?"

  "No, no, no," Cindi cooed. "I just need you to cut to a commercial after my next question."

  She grabbed the camera and adjusted it as she slipped from my lap. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a set of black metal rings. She held one up. "Curtis 'Esvanir' Reese, will you marry me?"

=== KARI ===

The words echoed through my mind over and over again. I had paused the interview and was staring at my screen, thinking about what I had just seen. Someone impossible to trust. Someone willing to kill people who she doesn't even consider to be threats. Is that who I am? Is that what Curt sees me as? I deflated in my chair and held my head in my hands; I felt tears leak down my cheeks. I sat there and cried for a few minutes before I got up and cleaned my face. I was back in fighting shape again. Mostly. My arms and legs were really sore still, but I would deal with that.

  It was time. I donned my costume. Mom had refused to repair the old one, but Jenny had dropped off a new one anyway. The color scheme of the shirt was inverted. White with periwinkle trim and lettering emblazoned across my chest and a matching cape. It was also a short sleeve mid-drift cut. The skirt was a bit shorter and cut up the thigh a little further than I liked. There were stockings and new boots that weren't ruined from saltwater. I put it on and stared at myself in the mirror. The scars on my thighs and arms were clearly visible. I fingered them solemnly. Then I gathered my phone and promptly jumped out the window.

  I blasted off after letting the air pass me as I fell. I didn't go my full speed. I was just too busy letting my mind empty of everything. I hadn't flown in almost two weeks. That was the longest I had gone since I had learned how to fly. I spun through the air and made a loop. I got to my destination much faster than I would have liked. I would have given anything to be wandering the city on patrol. But it was time for business. I landed in a terrace garden. There were some people there in plain-looking robes tending to the garden. There was a pool of sand where someone was drawing intricate designs that I couldn't begin to fathom. There was a small pond with koi fish gathered near someone feeding them. I walked down the path, and no one looked at me. In fact, if someone was walking towards me, they'd specifically avert their eyes. I sighed. It was a weird opposite to being down on the street.

  I turned to ask someone where I was supposed to go, but as I opened my mouth, a loud screeching voice cried out, "You're late!"

  I turned around and didn't see anyone looking at me. For a moment, I wondered if that had been directed at me, and then the voice rang out again. "Down here, you damned fool."

  I looked down. An absolutely tiny woman was leaning over a cane and stared up at me. She had small eyes magnified ridiculously by her thick, broken glasses. She stumped around me, and when I didn't follow, she turned and motioned for me to follow. "Well, come on then. We have to see if you're worth anything."

  She led me down some labyrinthine corridors until we reached a small room with a child meditating inside. The old woman thundered past the young girl and sat cross-legged against the wall. "Test this child for me."

  "I don't think that's appropriate," I said, stepping into the room. "I am very stron-"

  "Who said I was talking to you, fool?" The old woman said. The young girl stood up and bowed to me. She had black hair and dark eyes and couldn't have been more than ten.

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  "What?" I asked. I didn't even think to bow back because I was so flabbergasted. "I can't fight her! I might kill her."

  "Oh, well, that should be fun to watch," The old woman said, grinning. "What do you think, Suiren?"

  The girl didn't respond; She just took a stance and motioned me forward; I walked towards her and looked down at her. She was less than half my height. "I can't do thi-"

  The girl slammed a palm into my stomach, and the air rushed out of my lungs. I coughed and barely got my arm in the way to intercept a kick. She had launched herself from the ground, kicked my forearm three times, and landed perfectly. And swept my leg out from under me. I landed on the ground, and the young girl offered her hand to help me back up. I sat up. "Okay. She can fight. But I can lift a building."

  "Yeah, that's been really helpful so far," cackled the old woman. I glared at her and then at the girl whose expression had not changed whatsoever in the time since we had walked into the room. I stood up and threw a soft punch. A love tap. The girl grabbed my arm, spun on her heel, and threw me. I landed heavily across the room; I lifted myself off the ground and stared.

  "Oh, so she's a meta. Maybe someone who manipulates gravity or something?"

  "No, nothing like that," the old woman responded cryptically. I charged forward and kicked. The girl ducked under my leg and slammed two hands into my side, and I crashed down to the floor again. It didn't hurt but still. I jumped up and threw a punch; the girl barely seemed to move out of the way. And her expression never changed. She dodged everything I threw at her. I could not touch her at all. She slammed a fist into my stomach again, and I sputtered, unable to catch my breath.

  "Grandma, this lady isn't a fighter. Why am I doing this? This isn't going to help me get my-"

  "It is important that you not just focus on your goals but to help other people. Or do you want to be like her?" The girl blanched at this and turned to me. She bowed again.

  "I'm sorry. But you're just no challenge for me," the little girl said with closed eyes. "Please come back when you can actually hit me."

  "Suiren!"

  "I don't know how to help her."

  "So," I began, wiping the slobber from my chin. "You want me to hit you, huh?"

  "You can't. Not with the way you fight. I'm sorry."

  "We'll see," I said, anger building up in my chest. I threw a relatively slow punch, which she blocked. She also jumped over my leg that I tried to sweep under her. She sighed and shook her head. "I'm the one who should be sorry."

  "Why's that?" She asked, only seeming half interested.

  "Because you're the one who's outmatched, girl." I charged forward and threw another punch. This time at my full speed. She just managed to duck under it and the next one. But she was caught off guard from then on out. I pounded into the girl who I had not been able to touch. She blocked as much as she could, arms curling around her face. I heard her yelp, and I slowed down.

  "That's enough!" The old woman cried out. I halted my assault. I hadn't tried to hurt the girl, and as it turns out, I hadn't. She was a little bruised, but I had managed to keep control over my strength. The woman wandered over to Suiren and pulled her up. "Was that your goal, Suiren?"

  "I wanted to see what it was like," the little girl said in a small voice.

  "And what did you think?"

  "It's pointless. She can't do anything like that."

  "Yeah," the woman agreed. "I don't know that I can teach anyone like this."

  "Excuse me, I'm right here."

  "Yeah, we know. But this doesn't concern you."

  "It sure seems to concern me, seeing as how you're talking about me." The old woman considered me for a moment.

  "That is true. We're not going to teach you."

  "What? Why not?"

  "You can't even beat an eight-year-old girl without powers."

  "She dodged all of my blows. Of course, she has powers!"

  "No, I don't. I just could see all of your punches coming immediately. You're predictable."

  "I was punching at Mach 8!"

  "Yes, you were. And she still managed to block your punches."

  "Then she's a meta!"

  "Or I knew where your punches were going to land."

  "Is Esvanir a meta?"

  "No, but he's a cheater."

  "A cheater?" The old woman looked at me. "How do you figure that?"

  "He caught me off-guard."

  "In a fight that you initiated."

  "Y-yeah. He's tricky."

  "He's a real fighter," Suiren added. "You're just strong. That's not the same thing."

  "Isn't that why I'm here?" I demanded, unable to keep the heat out of my voice. "To learn how to fight!?"

  "That's the other thing. You're too angry. You will hurt people if you learn how to fight."

  "I am a superhero! I am going to protect people!"

  "Or get them killed. Like you almost did to that girl. You had no idea what you were doing, and you almost got yourself, her, Professor Mind, and Esvanir killed that night."

  "N-no!" I swiped my arms through the air, causing a shockwave to cut through it.

  "You can't even control your anger when you're having a conversation." The old woman started walking away. "I've already made the mistake of teaching someone with more strength and anger than sense. Unlike you, I can learn from my missteps."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "Think about it." And I did. Suiren and the old woman left. I sat down in the room. After a few minutes, the lights turned off automatically. I sat there in the darkness. I thought about it. Curt had been out of his gourd with rage and pain that night. But he still beat me; he couldn't fly at Mach anything. Esvanir was just a vanilla human, and he caught me. He made me hurt Professor Mind. I clenched my fist in anger at the thought. Then I released it. He'd used that trick before. He had made me punch things before. He had always been able to do that. But how? Cherry threw me around, too. She doesn't seem that strong. But she had me on the ropes once. Almost twice. She's slower and weaker than I am. I thought about how Suiren had blocked or ducked under everything until it became physically impossible for a human to keep up. I had had to resort to that against Cherry too. And against Curt in our previous fights. And in a lot of my fights. Because when I was fighting at their level, I wasn't good enough. Curt's words echoed through my head again. You're all so sloppy because you never have to try!

  I stood up after a while. The light came back on. I looked around. If I wanted to, I could have killed Suiren. I had almost killed Cherry. Professor Mind pointed out that I had practically killed Curt before I knew it was him. I was sloppy. I just got beat up by an eight-year-old. Fuck! I walked out of the room. It took a few minutes, but I found the old lady and Suiren. "Was your time in the dark enlightening?"

  "Y-yeah. I guess." I got down on my knees and pressed my head to the ground in front of the old woman. "You're right about me. I . . . am angry. And I rely too much on my powers. C-could you teach me whatever mystical arts you know? So that I can learn how to be more in control."

  "Mystical arts?" Both Suiren and the woman fell over laughing. "We don't teach mystical arts here."

  "Then how . . ."

  "I told you," Suiren managed, catching her breath. "You are just predictable. All the speed and power in the world doesn't matter if I know where you will be."

  "You don't have faith in the unpowered. That is one of your weaknesses."

  "But she is capable of admitting when she's wrong," Suiren pointed out.

  "Sometimes," the older woman added, watching me. "Do you see something in her, Suiren?"

  "Maybe. Maybe she's not a complete moron."

  "Alright. She'll be your charge."

  "What!?" Both of us demanded simultaneously.

  "Yes, I think this should be fun. Who knows. Maybe the Smash Gal could teach you something, too." Suiren looked doubtful but sighed and nodded.

  "Thank you for this opportunity," she said as deferentially as a petulant child could. She stood up. "C'mon. I'll show you your room."

  We walked in silence for a while through the confusing maze of hallways again. She brought me to a room without a bed or anything in it. "Here you are. There's a pad to sleep on in the closet. Goodnight."

  I was going to ask something, but she disappeared around the corner before I could find the words. I walked into the room. It was small and barren. No touch of life. But there was power. And a phone charger. There was that. I took out the mat and laid it out. Laying down, I opened Twitter and started my nightly ritual of scrolling for a few hours before finally being able to sleep. Or what would have been had the first thing I had seen not sent me spiraling.

=== CURT ===

Cin was staring at me, holding the ring in her tiny, delicate fingers. The perfect fingers for cracking a safe or palming something. The band that she had undoubtedly stolen from somewhere during her trips, that I had helped her do while trying to solve the Marcelli problem. My mind was reeling. She had that mischievous smirk painted across her face, "Curt, the commercial break was for dramatic effect. It's for the audience, not for me."

  "C-Cindi, are you sure?" I asked pleadingly.

  "When am I not sure about the things I want?" My mind jutted to a stop. She was right. She knew what she wanted. She had this extraordinary ability to know exactly what she wanted at any given time. She was never paralyzed with doubt or fear. Somehow. And whenever she was sure she wanted something, I was always sure I wanted it too. And I wanted this. I took the ring from her hand and slid it onto my finger. It fit perfectly. She had measured my finger.

  "What does that mean? Do you just like the piece of jewelry?" She asked, just as playful as ever.

  "It means 'yes', Cind. I'll marry you." She launched herself from her knee and jumped up onto my chair. Which promptly crashed to the floor. I didn't really notice until afterwards, though, because she was pressing her lips to mine and had her arms wrapped around my neck. She dragged me up to my feet.

  "Show the camera!" She demanded, leaning over. I did so. She held her hand next to mine and pulled me down to look into the camera. "First of all, I know you're watching. You lose, again. Secondly, Thrawn, we're even. I might even invite you to the wedding."

  "Wow," Thrawn said, flabbergasted. "I don't think we're even. You just gave me the exclusive of a lifetime. You heard it here first, folks. The super-villain celebrity couple Buck Cherry and Esvanir are engaged, live right here."

  "That's right, bitches. ChesVy is canon!" Cindi shouted with the biggest grin.