=== KARI ===

I avoided Chuck for a while after that. He had tried to call a few times. But with how he had reacted to me handling the Doc Oak situation. And with Curt gallivanting around the world on his advice, instead of in jail, I was pretty pissed at Chuck. I know he's trying his best, but at some point, when did what we do stop being justice?

  Worse than that, though, was that he might be right. I probably didn't have to knock out Doc Oak. He was basically catatonic already. Apparently, he could feel the pain of the plants I had torn up in our . . . Well, it wasn't much of a fight. Confrontation? I asked myself. I shrugged, not really caring. Then there was the other stuff he had been saying. About Curt. About how prison isn't a great solution to that particular problem . . . I thought about my wording, something Chuck had been pushing me to get in the practice of. I had labeled Curt a problem. I had dehumanized him. And that's part of the problem. I view criminals as inhuman. Just because they are breaking the law doesn't mean they're not human. In fact, it's kind of an argument for them being human. I sighed, considering it. When I thought about what would probably happen to Curt if I did catch him and Cherry and put them away . . . Chuck's right. I hate that. It would just make his life worse. I would've hurt him. I . . . I have hurt him. The fact that Curt hated me so much hurt. I accepted that we could never be . . . whatever we were again. But to think that he would turn entirely away from me . . . It was painful. I didn't know how to deal with it.

  I decided to be a little more proactive. I had been hiding in my room for a while, ignoring texts and calls. I just wasn't up to it. But I had to be out there. I put on my supersuit, tugging the cape, and stood in front of the mirror. It had been modified again. It showed off my arms like a form-fitting tank top. It was still that same hot pink, and my cape was still mauve. We had switched out the boots for shoes with a bit more arch support and what amounted to highly resilient yoga pants. The thin lines where Curt had tried to take off my arms were almost gone. It would be much the same on my legs. Despite how dangerous it felt at the time, I had recovered.

  The cuts from Lady Blade were disappearing too. Soon, there'd be no remnant of these fights. I stretched out my arm and flexed as hard as I could. My muscles bulged. I thought back to the first time I saw myself in a supersuit, what felt like eons ago. I look hot, is what I had thought then. And looking at myself, I still felt that way. Even after everything that's happened, I like who I am. I feel strong, capable, and attractive. It has been difficult, lately, to remember to love myself. I was constantly being barraged with opinions I didn't ask for. People telling me I should've done this or that, and people insisting that I was ugly or terrible in countless ways. But I didn't have to listen to any of it. I just need to remember that they don't know me.

  I smiled at my reflection and walked out of my room. Mom and dad both smiled softly at me as I walked past them. Even without them saying anything, I could tell they didn't want me to go out. They didn't want me to be a hero anymore. And they were trying to be supportive. But I saw how their eyes tightened when they looked at my suit, the way their mouths contorted briefly. I knew. I hated training my senses because now it's so hard to ignore the small expressions people make unconsciously. Maybe it's time I move out. I just couldn't help it. I flew over to Avalare City. I was still working on my forcefield, and it shattered several times on the way over when I hit my top speed. But I was getting better.

I arrived in the city and started my patrol. Listening and watching everything I could. There were little crimes here and there, things like purse-snatchers, that I could have stopped, but there were already people working on it. Regular citizens were standing up for each other. It warmed my heart to see. I landed in the middle of the Avalare Open-Air Mall and decided to get myself something to eat.

  While I was waiting, I got a call; it was from Suiren's grandmother. Oh no. A spike of panic spread out in my stomach. Did something happen to Ren? Not wanting to be rude, I stepped out of line and answered it. "Hello?"

  "Kari, how are you doing, dear?" She asked.

  "I'm. . . okay. How are you? Is everything okay?"

  "Yes, yes. Everything is fine. I was just wondering if you remembered it was Suiren's birthday tomorrow. You're still coming, right?" My eyes widened, and I stuttered for a moment. Fuck! I had completely spaced it.

  "I-uh, yeah. I'll be there. What time is everyone coming?"

  "3pm. Bring her a present. It'll make the events with . . . Lady Blade easier to deal with," the old woman added. I nodded and agreed. What do you even get for an eight-year-old martial arts master? I asked myself. I considered what I knew about Ren. She was constantly striving to be skilled enough, to be strong enough, to reclaim that sword. And I had never seen her relax fully. The closest we got was at that ice cream parlor, which still ended up with us beating people up. Thinking about it, it wasn't that different from how I grew up. Isolated from the world with a goal that no one else could relate to. And what I wanted more than anything during that time was a friend. Someone to talk to. Someone to understand what was going on. That's why I became so active on social media. So that I could have anyone to talk to. Even if I couldn't talk to them about everything, I could talk to them about something. I flew off to a store and got her the best present I could think of.

=== CURT ===

It was pretty late by the time we left France. We teleported back to our hotel room and took a shower together, washing the saltwater off. Cin likes her showers to be scalding, and it did take me a while to get used to the lava pouring from the showerhead, but once I was used to it, it felt divine. We went to bed, not precisely cuddling but in contact. Her presence, as always, was reassuring. I always slept better when she was around.

  "Curt," Cindi said the next day, resting on my chest with her arm wrapped protectively around me. "I want to go back to the dig site."

  "The dig site? The . . . The one where you and Hope met?" I asked apprehensively. "That seems like it would dredge up a lot of feelings and isn't exactly honeymoon material, you know?"

  "I know. But I need closure. And I want you to come with me this time. That was where Buck Cherry was created," she emphasized her title. Her voice was solemn. I peered down at her, trying to get a read on the situation, but I couldn't get a good look at her from my position. "It's why I got to know you. And I think it's probably the safest place to stash the Figure."

  I thought about the little statue that we had stolen from Hope. Cindi had stashed it somewhere, and I didn't ask where. It wasn't my place to. I thought through the logic. She usually ran away from her attachments. Realistically, I'm the most significant attachment she has, I thought. I nodded. "Okay, Cin. But you're going to be my tour guide. My personal Lara Croft and explain whatever I want."

  "Deal. Just don't ask stupid questions," she smiled, leaned up, and kissed me softly.

  "Will you wear the outfit?" I asked, grinning.

  "That would be an example of a stupid question." Her smile twisted to match my grin. A little while later, we were in the Middle East; the site had been long abandoned. We walked forward. Some of the things had been cleaned up after the events. I looked up what had happened while getting ready. When one of the university's doctoral students became a suspect in the world's most successful antiquities theft, they quietly shut it down. Hoping that no one would remember that they'd ever been a part of it. As we were walking, we kicked up an abandoned tarp. They really half-assed the cleaning. I sighed and pulled it out of the sand. Cindi glanced at me and it; she wasn't smiling anymore. She turned to the structure, staring pensively. I folded the tarp, teleported it away, walked up to her, and took her hand in mine. She squeezed it.

  The clean-up team had haphazardly sealed the ancient temple with a large piece of wood. It was only a few years later, but it was already breaking down. Cin started to phase through it, but I just teleported us inside. She spoke in a low voice, her usual humor muted, "Well, aren't we useful today, Essy?"

  "Had to happen eventually," I responded, digging through my bag. I took out a small, palm-sized drone and tossed it into the air. It started to fall before catching itself and hovered carefully, spinning around. It turned on a light and scanned the area.

"What's that?"

  "Sigournal Weaver," I responded. She looked at me, nonplussed. "She's a signal booster. Making sure if we need to make an escape, we can. Sig, sentry mode."

  "She?" Cindi asked, leaning in to examine the drone. The drone stabilized. She smiled softly. "You're such a dork."

  "I'm your dork."

  "Yes, you are," she replied warmly, retaking my hand, and we made our way down the corridor, both holding flashlights. I didn't understand any of the symbols, and I was going to ask about them, but Cin just kept moving, so instead, I just made my presence known by pressing into her sometimes, by squeezing her hand. Eventually, we got to a wall and walked around it until we found a seam. She swept her flashlight across it. There were a lot of characters and pictographs.

  "This is amazing," I muttered, stepping closer as I fingered an image of a woman who stood tall above everyone else.

  "What is?" She asked.

  "Everything we make breaks down pretty easily. It's by design. The nature of capitalism and all of that. Obsolescence and a need for progress. But that's not what these people were concerned with. They carved and designed things to last, what? Two thousand years?"

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  "Three thousand five hundred," she replied quietly, stepping up with me. She was reading . . . understanding? the symbols. Eventually, she reached up and pressed her hand into a stone, which depressed. It was a button. They had made a button somehow. The sound of stone grinding echoed through the halls, but the wall in front of us barely budged. She sighed, stripped down, handed me her bag, then offered me her hand. I took it, and we floated through the stone. It was a thick wall. Probably four feet. That was mainly to hide the device inside that was supposed to open the door. Passing through that much solid material is always really weird. You're still whole. You can still feel things, and the object you're going through wants to resist, and sometimes parts of you get briefly stuck on other things. So there is resistance. I still didn't have any real clue as to how her powers worked.

  We got through to the other side and landed carefully. Cindi had described it briefly, but honestly, it didn't do it justice. There were little streams of water pooling throughout the room; leaves and plants had overtaken much of the ground. Light was dispersed throughout the room, and when I looked at the ceiling, there was a series of gems that they were using to do it. "The physics of this room makes my head hurt."

  "You are aware we literally just walked through a wall because your wife stole a magical statue, right?"

  "I . . . Shut up."

  Cindi grabbed her bag and walked to the center of the room, where a raised platform was barely overtaken by plants. In the middle of the platform was a pedestal, presumably where her statue was meant to be placed. She opened the bag and took out the case she kept the Figure in. Buck Cherry took out her ill-gotten gains and did something I'd never seen her do before; she returned what she had stolen. She took the piece out and carefully placed it back on the pedestal. Nothing dramatic happened. There was no shaking of the temple, no great upheaval of stone, no collapsing. It was completely normal. Except Cindi. Cindi fell over and started convulsing. Panicking, I dashed towards her.

=== KARI ===

I arrived at the dojo's terrace a little ahead of time, gift in hand. I shifted uncomfortably. I wasn't sure if it was something that she'd want. But it was what I would've wanted when I was younger, trapped alone, isolated from anyone who wasn't my parents. Other people had gathered too. Suiren's grandmother was smiling at the other guests, a lot of which were just her and Suiren's students. Suiren wasn't dressed in her standard gi. Instead, she wore a dress, which was honestly kind of surreal. I don't think I've ever seen her wear anything else, I thought to myself. I stepped up. She was surrounded by a man and a woman, both dressed very nicely. They had her features; the woman reminded me of Ren's grandmother. They must be her parents. They watched everyone with wary eyes as if expecting something to go terribly wrong. I wandered over to the not insubstantial pile of gifts that had been gathered. When I turned around, I met Ren's eyes for a moment. She smiled at me slightly. I wanted to go to her, but her parents guided her away quickly.

  Eventually, after everyone was gathered, we collected and sang her happy birthday. Her parents abstained, but her grandmother belted out the words. We had a little bit of cake, and everything seemed less tense. Especially after that, when Ren started opening gifts. She got a new set of Kendo swords and some training weights to wear. Her parents had given her several large books. She thanked everyone after each gift, but she was especially deferential with those books. Someone had gotten her a collection of trading cards. She opened the package and sifted through them; she beamed down at them. "Kari! Come look!"

  I glided over to her, peeking over her shoulder. They were superhero cards. I frowned. There were fifteen of them. And upon second glance, they couldn't have been superhero cards. There were villains and bad guys mixed in with them; Curt, for instance, was in the bunch. I took a deep breath. Ren held out one in particular. I was staring back at myself. It was a foiled card where I was sitting in a very . . . open pose. On the card, I was wearing the costume with the skirt, but it was far shorter than I would have ever dared. My stockings were also more transparent and . . . My chest was much more prominent. "I got you, Kar! Isn't that cool? You're very rare. Especially the holo version."

  "O-oh. Are you a collector?" I asked, staring at how this version of me posed with the implication that standing just an inch or two to the side, you could see a lot more. I couldn't help but frown.

  "Yeah, I got into it a little while ago. It really helped me understand what is going on around you. It also gave me a better scope of the abilities you guys have."

  "Abilities?" I asked, leaning over. Ren nodded and turned the card over. There was another, smaller picture of my face and a list of some of the things I had done under the label Feats of Heroism. My frown deepened. This card had a lot of information about me. At the bottom, there was a logo. Action Publishing. That was the same publishing company that published the charity calendars that Jenny had Chuck, Harold, and a bunch of others do.

  "Yeah, it lists some of the cooler things you do. And they're a lot cooler than the Wiki pages." She flipped it back over, revealing the same art. It is a good painting. A little exaggerated, sure, but . . . I tried to get comfortable with this art being out there. It was still less risque than all of the literal porn parodies. And apparently, it was official merchandise. I have to talk to Jenny about that. Maybe we could get less . . . horny art. Suiren held up the card. "Can you sign it?"

  "Oh, of course." I took the card and a marker I kept for precisely this purpose and signed it as Kari - Smash Gal with a little heart over the i. I picked up Curt's card; his art was also exaggerated; he looked more muscular and broader. They'd also replaced his regular vest and dress shirt combo with an absolutely scandalous deep V-cut and exceptionally tight pants. They were practically painted on. He could have been on a romance novel cover between that and his long hair. Even with the sides of his head shaved. I couldn't help but smile at this one.

Ren moved on to other gifts. Eventually, she got to mine. She tore off the wrapping paper I had spent an hour figuring out. Even with super perception, I still can't wrap gifts to save my life. She held up the box underneath and frowned curiously at it. "You got me a camera? Why?"

  "Uh," I began, self-doubt and anxiety spreading into my stomach. "Well, I . . .When I was locked up in the lab, I got really lonely. The only experience I ever really got of the outside world was making videos and posts on social media. Making videos was a lot of fun. So, I thought I'd share that with you . . . I'm. . . I'm sorry. I can return it."

I reached out for the camera box, and Ren pulled it away from me. "N-no. I . . . I want to try it. You think people will watch my videos?"

  "Yeah, of course!" I said, smiling. Some tension I hadn't realized had built up in my shoulders released. "You're like the coolest. You are a martial arts prodigy. Just remember to be goofy sometimes, too."

  The party continued, and Ren got some batteries for the camera, took a lot of pictures, and had other people take pictures of her practicing with her new kendo swords. Ren's grandmother brought out one last gift. At first, I thought it was another set of Kendo swords, but Ren struggled to lift one of them with one hand. She pulled the wooden sheath down some, revealing an actual blade. Ren looked up at her grandmother, her lip trembling and tears threatening to leak out from her eyes. The older woman, not that much taller than Ren herself, pulled her into a hug. I watched her parents, who were speaking in a hushed tone in a language I didn't understand. I wondered what was happening but had no way of knowing. Someone should really invent something that automatically translates things.

  There was a shuffling elsewhere, and I turned to see a pair of purple-black armored feet dash behind a couple of plants. Time stretched out for me. I blasted off from my spot to try and get a better vantage point. It really was her. Lady Blade saw me, unsheathed her sword, and swept through the plants in front of her; a torrent of purple fire roared forward. The ground caught flame, regaining its more natural orange-yellow. People screamed and dived out of the way; not everyone was fast enough. The armored woman swung again, and more flames gathered around the blade and shot forward. I slammed down in front of the gout and created a forcefield, blocking them. She roared in rage, "Degenerate! How dare you! I will cleanse the world of you and the usurper who tried to steal my divine judgment!"

  She brandished the blade again, leaping over the flaming plants she left in her wake. My forcefield cracked as she slammed her weapon down on it. She slashed at it seven more times, each time worsening the crack. I tried to reinforce it, but I just didn't know how. I couldn't even create a new one because each strike sent a flash of discomfort through my mind. The shield eventually shattered, and I fell back, my head pounding. Using forcefields like that is hard. How does Chuck do this all the time? I asked myself. Lady Blade stepped forward, preparing to cut me down, but Suiren jumped in the way with her new sword. She tried to block the strike, but her arms crumpled under the force of the woman's attack. She ducked under it and slashed at her repeatedly, but her movements were slow and clunky. She's not used to the weight of the new sword. Lady Blade backhanded Ren with her gauntleted fist, and she went flying. I roared in rage and threw myself to my feet, interlacing my fingers. I slammed down on the woman with both, and she crumpled underneath the force. And so did the floor, cracks spider-webbing out from where she landed.

  She pushed herself back up and rolled out of the way of my stomp. The armored woman swept her blade towards my leg, and it bit into me briefly before I flew out of the way. She rose, slicing through the air at me and sending another lance of flame at me. I dodged out of the way and slammed down next to her. She cut at me again, but I ducked. She had been anticipating that, fire blasting out towards the crowd. I panicked and launched myself forward to intercede. She took the opportunity to slash my back several times. I cried out in pain but didn't let that or the blood I could feel leaking down my spine stop me. I tanked the flame and spun it out. She was going after Ren again. This time, Suiren's grandmother jumped in the way, blocking the downward arc of Lady Blade's weapon and deflecting it. The older woman slid her own sword out of the cane. The two launched into a series of quick, skilled slashes.

  They wouldn't bang their swords together so much as just catch them and move them out of the way of attacking. These two seemed evenly matched for a full minute. I spent that time pushing everyone out of the way. I swept behind them and scooped Ren, who looked up at me woozily. Her eyes were unfocused. Rage boiled through me. I tried to find the space in my head that Ren had spent so much time trying to instill in me. A place of calm. A place where I could think. But I couldn't. Not only is she attacking my friend, but on her birthday! I was shaking with rage when I set her down. Her parents took her and nodded at me. She started giving instructions, getting everyone out of the way from her father's arms. I turned, and Suiren's grandmother was beginning to fade. She couldn't keep up with the constant assault that Lady Blade was used to dishing out. I watched the criminal's sword bite into and cauterize the wound immediately. The older woman cried out and fell over. Lady Blade raised her sword and prepared to strike my teacher's teacher down. My friend down. She was every bit of my friend that Suiren was. I screamed, "Enough!"

  I didn't wait for a response; I charged forward. I didn't regulate my speed; I didn't hold back. I was so tired of this woman trying to take away my friends. Trying to kill people in front of me. I slammed a fist into her chest, barely cognizant of the Mach-cone that had formed around it. I also didn't try to hold back my strength. Her armor shattered under my strike, shrapnel flying everywhere. She flew back and slammed into the wall around the garden. Then through it. Somehow, she had kept a hold on her weapon. But it didn't matter. I launched myself after her and caught up almost instantly. I hammered into her and sent her to the ground. A crater formed around her, and the street was cracked. Even from three stories up, I could tell her body was broken. I saw her trying to move, and I slammed down next to her, stepping on both the wrist trying to lift the sword and her chest. She cried out in pain. But I didn't care. I just stared down at the woman, barely able to keep myself from stepping through her chest. I felt tears sting my eyes. Cops and EMTs gathered around us and started carting her away. The cops put her sword into an evidence bag. One of them questioned me. "What happened here?"

  "She attacked a party up there," I answered blandly, gesturing up to where her body had broken through the wall. The cop nodded.

  "You really did a number on her," the cop remarked offhandedly.

  "She shouldn't have tried killing my friends in front of me. I had been way too easy on her. I've been too easy on everyone."