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The Indomitable
From the Start

From the Start

It was the summer of 2044, at the height of the solstice. The school year was drawing to a close for Sleepy Hollow High School, and the seniors were eagerly preparing for their final events: the senior ball—called the Solstice Soiree—and graduation, scheduled for the following week. Among them was Julius Hatakana.

Julius was the son of recently retired Army Colonel—now Brigadier General—Maria Hatakana, and celebrated author Tokugawa Hatakana, known for his fantasy epic, The Indomitable. The two had met decades earlier at Camp Zama in Japan’s Kanagawa Prefecture, a story they described as “love at first sight,” though Julius often struggled to believe it.

He was a skeptic when it came to romantic ideals: kindred spirits, past lives, soulmates, true love, love at first sight—all of it seemed irrational. Yet, he could find no logical explanation for his parents’ lasting connection. They were complete opposites, so much so that even the age-old adage “opposites attract” seemed inadequate.

His father was the embodiment of a calming cup of tea—timid, smooth, reserved, and rarely speaking more than a few sentences in any conversation. His mother, by contrast, was like a shot of espresso: loud, bold, robust, and compact yet strong—very strong. After all, one doesn’t achieve the rank of colonel, or rather brigadier general, without both the strength to level towers and the wisdom to wield such power carefully (otherwise, one would be nothing more than a front-line weapon of mass destruction).

Somehow, these two worlds and personalities harmonized and resulted in Julius, the embodiment of hot chocolate—jolly, warm, sweet, and innocent. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t pack a punch (especially when spiked with a shot of something stronger).

Julius was at once timid, like his father, and the natural commander of a room, like his mother. To his knowledge, he didn’t possess the otherworldly prowess his mother seemed to have, but he did inherit enough of a physical boost to be the strongest, fastest, and most resilient among his peers. Much to his mother’s dismay—and his father’s quiet approval—he never put these strengths to much use beyond the FitnessGram Pacer Test. Even then, he held back. As a kid, he’d watched The Incredibles and thought it would be fun to keep his abilities hidden.

That said, he took little pride in his natural talents. Sure, he was stronger than most, but he was far from the top, and these abilities were a gift, not something earned through hard work.

His mother would often scold him for this laid-back attitude.

“It doesn’t matter if you start from a better position. You still need to put in the work to make something of yourself.”

She was right, but he preferred his father’s advice:

“Do what you enjoy, not just what you’re good at.”

So, Julius took after his father and began to write.

He didn’t think he had any real talent, but his ego received a boost whenever his father read his work. His dad was his number one fan, often comparing Julius’ writing to that of his favorite author. The best part was that he never had a negative word to say—something that was unhelpful for honing one’s craft but a blessing for anyone seeking parental approval. However, the true motivation behind his father’s encouragement came into question when one learned about Joan.

Joan had been Julius’s best friend since childhood. She loved poetry, and since Julius loved Joan, he felt he had to love poetry for

her to love him in return. Except he didn’t need to—Joan already loved him. In fact, both of them were oblivious to their feelings. They were the only two who seemed unaware.

This ongoing tension of “will they, won’t they” finally reached a climax when Joan grew tired of waiting for Julius to ask her to the senior dance and decided to take matters into her own hands.

“I may be wishful,

Julius Hatakana,

But will you be mine?”

There was a pause in the air as the moon-eyed Joan stood before Julius, who was slowly sinking deeper into the bean bag he was sitting in.

“A haiku?” Julius asked as he rolled an overly gelled loch of his dark auburn hair.

“Yes…” Joan replied.

“I feel like I’m being profiled.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. I wanted to write you a poem, and that’s the easiest style I know! Now, answer me!”

“Answer what?”

“Will you go to the senior soiree with me?”

“We already are…?”

“No, I mean as a date-date.”

Both of them blushed.

“Yes… To be honest,” Julius said, his voice slipping into the soft, quiet cadence of his father’s,

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“I’ve sort of had a huge crush on you for as long as I can remember.”

The room felt ablaze with tension.

“Same,” Joan murmured.

They began to laugh uncontrollably, the kind of shared, nervous laughter that borders on hysteria—until it was broken by a thunderous voice from the floor above.

“About damn time!”

It was Julius’s mother. With hearing as sharp as a bat’s, she made intimate conversations like this… less than intimate.

“Ma, could you please not eavesdrop?” Julius called upstairs.

“Sorry, baby, but you know I’m a little nosy! Now get your tushies up here; the pizzelle’s ready.”

The lovebirds darted upstairs to the kitchen.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Hatakana,” Joan said, grabbing a warm cookie.

“No problem, dear. Now why don’t you run home and get ready? The limo will be here at 6:30, but I want to take pictures beforehand.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joan said, her words muffled by the cookie.

She grabbed a few more cookies before darting out the door, her excitement barely contained.

“Good thing NYU is close to Columbia,” Tokugawa said. “Hey, you can probably ask her rich Ivy League friends to finance your film assignments.”

He was scribbling in a marble notebook, with a pile of cookies beside him and crumbs scattered across his black shirt.

Tokugawa was a rather large man, towering over the family. His grand stature seemed especially out of place at the cramped kitchen table, but he didn’t mind; it reminded him of home. It was half the reason he drove a Prius—its compact size fit well into his life, plus the gas mileage was unbeatable, and it was easy to park on trips to the city.

“How exciting—no long-distance! You’re just a short bus ride away from your girlfriend,” Maria teased.

“She’s not my girlfriend, and it’s a thirty-minute commute… so it’s not that close.”

“Oh, listen to him; he’s already figured it all out,” Maria replied, pulling her hair free from a ponytail.

“So, schmoopy, now that you have a proper date, that hair won’t do.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

“The gel,” Tokugawa chimed in, his words muffled by a mouthful of cookie.

“Exactly,” Maria agreed. “The gel. You’re a cutie no matter what, but why not try something different? Go natural and show off those beautiful red curls I gave you. Ladies love curls.”

“Okay, I’ll consider it,” Julius replied. “By the way, why is the countertop broken?”

He pointed at a large chunk of granite, shattered and scattered on the counter.

“Oh,” Maria said sheepishly, “I burned myself on the pizzelle maker, and, well… I smashed it. I’ll fix it.”

Maria waved her hand over the rubble, and as she did, the broken pieces began to float back up to the counter, reassembling like a jigsaw puzzle. The pattern wasn’t quite the same as before, but to Maria, it was good enough.

She wasn’t capable of perfect repairs, and she certainly didn’t want to spend money replacing the entire counter.

As the final piece fused into place, Maria glanced over at her husband, who was now several pages deeper in his notebook than when the conversation began.

“Yes?” he asked, not looking up.

“When is Ooshiba supposed to arrive? The lasagna’s going to dry out if I leave it in the heat any longer.”

“He was supposed to be here an hour ago.”

“Wait, who is Ooshiba?” Julius asked, sliding into a seat next to his father.

“Are you serious?” Maria replied, raising an eyebrow. “I’d give you a bop on the head, but it might make things worse. Have you not been listening to anything we’ve said all week? He’s your father’s friend. He has some business to take care of in New York, so he’s staying with us for a few days. Why do you think we’ve been cleaning so much?”

Just then, Tokugawa’s phone chimed pleasantly. He glanced down at it.

“He’ll be here after dinner,” he announced. “Let’s eat.”

Name

Height

Julius

69 inches

Maria

60 inches

Toka

74 inches

Name

Maria diNolti Hatakana

Eyes

Brown

Hair

Light Auburn

Innate Ability

Matter Manipulation

Aliases

Red Wine, Supernova, Cl. Cabernet, Red

Affiliation

US Army

Pneumatic Tier

6

Potential

S

Strength

B

Range

B

Speed

B

Precision

B

Power

B