Juniper sat silently in the car, waiting for the awkward ride to end. Her eyes fixed on the passing neon city lights, speckled raindrops lighting up the windows of the car. The ride was awkward. Filled with the kind of silence that felt pressing and suffocating.

She fidgeted constantly adjusting the fresh tracksuit she was given by the OBB, it was a bit undersized and unfamiliar, and it only made her feel self-conscious. The tightness just added more discomfort.

“So…’ balaclava girl,’” A humming John, broke the silence. “How’d it go off? Your powers I mean, how’d they awaken? What was your trigger?”

“B-Balaclava girl? Juniper questioned, she felt a mix of irritation and social unease. The nickname was a horrible fit, even baggirl sounded better to her. Her voice stumbles as struggles to maintain her composure. “W-who chose that name?”

“It’s what the SCRA chose to name you. You're unregistered, they have to work off a reference. Also, that shit you and Annemarie pulled at the bank, went viral. I guess the name has now penetrated internet forums and the like.” he half smirked, she could see in the mirror, he gently lowered a window, just enough to light a cigarette and let the smoke escape.

She felt churning nausea brewing. The thought of thousands of strangers, dissecting every part of her body, hyper-analyzing her–was not something she wanted to deal with. She shuffled where she sat, forehead leaning against the cooled glass. The rain outside was blurring into gray and neon. “I don’t wanna talk about…names.”

“Alright. What woke your powers or caused it?”

She exhaled, the fog mixing with the chilling wetness of the window. “I… got hit by a car. Just went grocery shopping. Supervillain drive by.” she lowered her voice speaking softly, loud and she might break her will to speak.

“They catch them?”

“I don’t believe so, or I don’t know. They were run-of-the-mill villains so…”

Her hands played with the bandages and the stitches on her stomach. She could feel an itchy sensation occurring as if her body was slowly reattaching small dead cells. “Heliogirl fought, That’s about all I know.”

“ahh…I know what you’re talking about,” he said as he huffed out a pillow of smoke.

“Heard there was a lawsuit against her…All the victims and close family affected are supposed to be compensated. Did you partake?”

“No, she saved my life. And she visited me afterward, and brought me gifts." She didn’t know why she was telling a dangerous stranger this.

Maybe he wasn’t all that bad.

“So, the perps could still be out there somewhere. Have you ever thought about payback? Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth.”

She never once thought of it. The very first thing that bothered was the safety and security of her siblings. The pain she felt at that moment, flashed like an old phantom. It could be so easy to think about that, dwell on it. But she had no desire for revenge.

“No.”

There was the silence that followed again. A bit different this time. Reflective not oppressive. It was that break that made her linger on the distant sirens beating through the night air, their lights flashing yellow, red, and white into her eyes.

Somewhere out there, there was a good chance that someone's son, daughter, father, or mother, was on the verge of dying. She hated that feeling.

“Do you enjoy killing people, metal Ronin? The question was out of pocket, too quick for her own thoughts to process, it hung in the air, and the smoke from John’s cigarette was heavier.

“Quite blunt, you can be. And no. Never. I’ve never enjoyed it. But every kill I’ve made was for a good reason. Everything for the cause.”

“What is the cause?” she asked genuinely curious.

“You’ll have to decide that for yourself.”

“Have you ever thought about them? She asked, half whispering. “The people you killed?”

“Every day,” he said. He looked at her eyes through the rearview mirror.

“Why? Planning someone’s death.”

“Maybe, I’m just scared I'll be forced to kill someone,” she muttered, half vulnerable, half joking.

“Do I scare you, Ms. Pinewell? He asked, chuckling. Staring into her eyes.

Juniper hesitated. She didn’t expect to be asked that so bluntly in return, but she had to be honest. “Maybe a bit,” she said and added. “But first impressions always help, you’re uh, quite the handsome man, I guess.”

Her cheeks were slightly in a blush.

“I'm flattered. But I hope one day you’ll see a better side of me.” he laughed genuinely warm, comforting like an older brother who was there for your well-being.

The conversation died down again, Juniper was left alone with her thoughts. She wasn’t sure what made her more uncomfortable– his touching demeanor or her own fucked up emotions.

[Juniper, fire yourself up. Gotta say though, he is giving charismatic but Uncle with an ulterior motive vibes. May I suggest, ejecting yourself out of the car door in case he gets drunk.”]

Juniper blinked several times. Sys-chan’s voice was upbeat, a stark contrast to her own mood. She closed her eyes attempting to focus on a small spark of levity.

“What happened to Annemarie?’ she asked, half disappointed in herself for caring about her well-being.

“Locked up for the night at the SCRA department,” John said, a cigarette leaving his mouth. “Don’t worry about her. They’ll let her out tomorrow. Arkangeal pulled some strings. Otherwise, you’d both be charged for interfering in a state-commandeered operation.

“Arkangel?”

“The woman who spoke to you Evelyn, our boss.”

The weight of everything weighed down on her again. Her arms become numb and she slumps into her seat. Only the system wouldn’t let her gloat in peace, constantly trying to uplift her.

[Chin up! Juni! Tomorrow is another promise to be made. You can be a proper hero now, make better fashion decisions, and maybe no uncles to drive you around. Sit upright!]

It’s not that simple.

John pulled into the dim parking lot under the apartment complex, The rain hammering the windows with heavy torrents.

“For you,” he said. John reached into his coat and handed her a phone slim, pitch-black. It felt much heavier than it should have in her palm.

“Keep this on you. If you decide to join, just give me or Evelyn a call. If you don't and feel threatened, or you need something, feel free to call us. We’ll take care of you.”

She was hesitant, one part of her wanted to throw it out of the window, the other part wanted to hold onto it just in case, she decided in the flicker of the moment.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Okay,” she murmured, tucking it into the pocket of the tracksuit.

“Can I walk you inside? You’re still wobbling like a madman. The last thing we want is for you to crack your head open on a stairwell.”

“It’s not necessary.” she gripped the door handle, eager to get inside the apartment.

He held his hands up. “I insist. No ulterior motives, I promise.” he leaned against the seat. “Believe it or not, I like playing big brother with Annemarie, stupid girl’s always getting herself into trouble.”

Juniper smiled. Did her people even know that she was a sexually frustrated maniac or was it just her who was exposed to that side of her?

Moving through the torrenting rain. Up into the second floor, the hallway was mostly quiet. The faint smell of mildew was overridden by petrichor.

She hadn’t even reached the door when an old familiar voice called out to her.

“Juniper!”

'Sweet Jesus, does this woman sleep.'

Ms. Louise wobbled forward like a rolling avalanche. Suspicions and contempt on her face.

She said aghast. “I didn’t know you were bringing home older men!” the woman folded her arms, clearly in disapproval.

“Uh no–”

“John stepped in smoothly. “Late-night internship,” he said with confidence. “Juniper here just came back from a meeting so to speak.”

“Internship?” the lady scoffed. “Their letting kids work at night these days, back in my day–”

Juniper had to shut out the rest of the lady’s rant, some part of her would really like to be rid of this old crone, but pummeling her with her powers would not be a good thing on her records. She supposed John's presence eased the irritation.

When they reached the door, she felt drained all over again.

“Great,” she said with disappointment. “She probably thinks I sell my body or something.”

John shrugged. “Could be worse.”

“Can it?”

They stood awkwardly in front of the door, the peeling paint of the wall, did nothing to alleviate her feelings.

“Well then.” John spun around. “I’ll be off. Take care, Ms. Pinewell, and please–”

“Yes?”

“Make a choice before it’s too late.”

“Sure.”

He walked off, not looking back, she waited till he disappeared out of the hallway. Her stomach started twisting in ways she couldn’t explain. Even with the door calm and still in front of her. She hesitated.

[Medical alert! Depressive feelings detected, may I recommend a hug or an ice cream.]

“You’re not helping at all. You need to learn when to be quiet.”

The door is locked. As it should be.

She pressed her thumb under the doorknob, where a hidden scanner was. The mechanism beeped twice before unlocking. Stepping inside, she shut the door behind her with a soft click.

Stepping inside, the dim glow of the television monitor lit up the living room, Remy and Effy were curled up together on the sofa. Effy was slumped down in Remy’s lap, her little body rising and falling as she breathed in deep sleep. Remy’s unalert and probably tired as hell, head snapped towards the door, with sudden fright.

For a mild second, the warmth of her home settled in, like an old blanket in a dark cold. She wanted to cozy beside them, pull under the warmth of settling in. But the Heavyweight of what transpired rattled her bones.

Remy sprang up, on his feet. Before she could even move another step, he looked frantic and wild. Effy stirs slightly but doesn’t wake up. Remy’s arms flailing open around her waist.

“Juniper!” his voice was disjointed. “Where’ve you been? I thought something happened to you?”

His hug was tight-too tight–she winced as the wounds started aching.

“A lady called,” he said, half-tearing up half-laughing. “A cape lady. Said you’ve been shot and taken into medical care. And then I saw it– t-the video–online! The bank thing! I knew that was you. Juniper, I–”

He nearly tumbled them both over, half-mad, not knowing how to act.

“What if you–what if you get killed? What the hell Am I supposed to do–”

She hugged him back, the pain amplifying as she pressed into him.

“Remy,” she whispered, resting her chin on his shoulder. “I'm alright.”

He pulled back noticing her discomfort, just enough to see her bandages peaking through the tracksuit. His tracking the bloodstains.

“You’re still hurt!”

“This–is nothing,” she said dismissively. Playing with his messy hair. “I’ll heal.”

He looked unconvinced.

“But you got shot several times. Why aren’t you in a hospital?”

She sighed, she may as well come clean. She couldn’t keep brushing him away, he knew it was not the first time. She’d avoided telling him most of it.

“Healing factor, I can regenerate.”

His face fell as the realization dawned on him.

“So… you really are a cape?”

She nodded. She hated being called that, the way he said was like it was an irreversible thing, something she’ll have to wear for the rest of her life.

“I’m going to make my choice soon,” she said softly. “I’ll join an agency. Get us away from this neighborhood, get Effy a better school, I’ll get you the medical care you need.”

He looked away as she said the last part.

“You’ll still be putting your life in danger!”

His voice cracked, panic leaking.

“Can you even fight? Do you even have offensive powers?

“Look,” she said, firmly. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to talk. Right now I need some proper rest.”

“But–”

“Remy.” her voice faltered. “I know you had a death scare, but please. Let me rest. I’ll speak to you when my head is clear. Take it easy.”

He nodded reluctantly.

She stared at her sister, who lay splayed over the coach. “Don’t tell Effy, a thing, okay?” she added. “I don’t want her exposed to this stuff at all.”

Without a further word, she scooped up her little sister.

“Damn,” she exclaimed. “She’s getting heavier.”

She stirred faintly, as she was carried halfway to her bed. Eyes flickering over for a second.

“Juno?” she mumbled in her sleep.

“Go back to sleep, Effy”.

Effy’s eyes went shut again, and Juniper tucked her into her bed, under two thin, worn blankets. She stood over her for a moment, pinching her face and brushing her away from her face.

The lump in her throat, half swallowed.

[Critical damage suffered! Sibling moment. Emotional well-being–staggered. Need some comfort Y/N?]

She ignored the popup, flicked the light off, and the door pulled shut behind her.

She locked the room, to her door. Remy lingered in front of the TV. She was afraid he would overly try and take care of her. Leaning on the door, sliding down. She shot right up again when her wound contracted.

“Fuck!” she shouted as soft as she could.

Everything had caught up to her, It pressed her down. Her breathing became short-winded. She pressed her palm on her mouth, struggling to let the sobbing stay inside. She didn’t want to hear her sibling cry.

[May I suggest deep breaths? Or even punching something, just not the door.]

She exhaled as slowly as she could, kicking off her shoes and socks. She needed to focus on something–anything else before she spiraled out of control. Most people would run straight to drugs or alcohol, she didn’t want that for herself or her siblings.

Her gaze locked onto her console. She stared at her glitchy Monitor, it was a 4-year-old model, and she never could afford a new one. That would have to change.

[Dissociation protocol activated. Seriously go do something else. Don’t mope on the ground.]

She crawled towards the console and grabbed the controller, flopping on her bed, head leaning on it. Restarting an old computer role-playing game she liked to play every once in a while.

“Just for a moment.”

[That’s the spirit! Achievement unlocked—‘Pretend It’s Fine!’ Reward: mild distraction from real-life issues. (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)]

Juniper almost laughed. Almost. She launched the game.

She checked the time on her phone.

3:27 AM.

Her phone’s bright blue glow fucked with eyes, even with pastel wallpaper. An open field of purple and blue with little cute animals running over it. She winced as she lowered the brightness.

Her fingers danced beside her, searching for a full can of energy. Four now stood empty. They reflected the light of the monitor in her eyes.

On the big screen, her character, a spellsword drow– hung on the scaled wing of the dragon, hacking away as fire from his breath, spilled onto her.

Her hands moved on instinct. Fingers waltzing all over the buttons.

With a swift impalement in the head of the beast. The dragon tried throwing her off, crashing into a burning meadow.

5000 exp gained. Level up.

[Congratulations! You’ve leveled up a digital illusion. You are now an expert at coping with your emotions.]

Juniper ignored her. ‘Her’ did she syschan even have a gender, what even was she really?

[Whatever you need me to be in the moment.]

Her focus returned to the game, the growing pit in her chest was feigning out. Maybe a thing of the past.

[Okay juniper. Seriously, that’s your fifth energy drink. Your heart is gonna explode at this rate.]

“No,” She uttered, completely exhausted, but pushing on. “A few more hours. OBB can wait. Superpowers can wait. I want ‘me’ time.”

[Like what.Overthrowing corrupt dragon gods? Meh. Murderhobo-ing a village of cursed werewolves? Critical mission. Kinda boring if you ask me. When you can be a god in the real world.]

Her fingers slipped as she struggled to play coherently. Preparing her team of companions for another dungeon run.

One more at least.

[Dude. The last thing you need is to turn into a female version of the neckbeard. What’s the next step?]

“hmmm….AI waifu’s”’

[Excuse me. Am I just lifeless code? Am I not good enough for you.☹]

“You can’t hold me. You can’t make me moan.”

[I can whisper in your ear.]

Juniper shivered, Sys-chan’s voice was dropping way too low. Too close, so soft. Warm, and prickly, an involuntary shiver ran up her spine.

“W-what the hell…” Her cheeks warmed, and there was a faint tingle below her waist.

[Go to bed, already!]

She put her controller down. Partly flustered. Still depressed. “You’re crazy sometimes you know that.”

[And yet you still haven’t reset my factory settings.]

She pulled a pillow over her head. Sleep was beginning to sound better. If it means, sys-chan’s yammering will stop.

[ Sweet dreams, Juniper. I’ll be right here—in your ears.( ˘ ³˘) ]

Sys-chan's last words lingered in her ears as she departed the world.