Prologue
Resting his hands on the edge of the clean, white, bathroom sink, Jason Scott leaned closer to the mirror until his own reflection was only inches away. His dirty blonde hair was still disheveled and damp from his shower. A bluish-purple circle almost hid his puffy right eye, and a thin scarlet line split his skin just above his left eyebrow. Bruises and small cuts pockmarked his bare chest.
He managed a half smile, more of a grimace really. He had told the others he had taken worse beatings during sparing. A lot worse. Of course, he didn't spar in armor, but his boast wasn't even remotely true. Nothing he had been through even compared.
Part of him still couldn't believe what had happened. Not just yesterday, although the tension, adrenaline fueled desperation, and utter relief and elation he felt after Rita was defeated still dominated his thoughts, but all that had transpired in the last year. The Power Coins. Zordon. The others, Kimberly, Trini, Zach, and Billy. Power Rangers.
Angel Grove would never be the same, and neither would he.
Jason left the bathroom, walking gingerly on sore legs down the hallway and into his bedroom. Early morning sun soaked the room, brightening the navy-blue walls and glinting off the many karate trophies that seemed to be crammed on every flat surface in the room. He pulled a clean tshirt from his dresser drawer and sat down on the far side of his bed. With a grunt he fit his head and arms through and pulled the shirt on.
He exhaled and closed his eyes. For the first time in months he could relax. Rita was gone for good. He and his team had finally come to grips with what it meant to be Power Rangers.
"You have proved yourself as the Red Ranger, Jason."
Zordon's commendation echoed in his mind. Jason Scott, Red Ranger. He had thought about taking the title as his fighting nickname, but the title would probably be too obvious, too cheesy, or both. And around town a lot of folks were already calling him "The Karate Kid."
He had grown so much as a person. He'd been pushed hard by Zordon to develop into a true leader of the Power Rangers. Rita had pushed him too in a manner of speaking.
Everyone had come together really. And now they'd won. A lot of cleanup was still necessary. Angel Grove had suffered underneath Rita, but nothing like last night's onslaught. Smoke from still burning fires hung heavy in the air over downtown. Buildings had been destroyed, whole streets ravaged. People had died. But this time victory had been complete.
He'd seen the morning news while eating breakfast. The mayor was already launching a rebuilding campaign, pushing the slogan "We shall endure." He also thanked the mysterious new heroes, the Power Rangers, now squarely in the public's eye.
His iPhone vibrated on the bed next to him.
It was Kim.
Hey :) whatcha doing?
Kim. Another thing that had happened. He didn't know who had made the first move, but they were here now. He started to reply when another text came in.
Billy this time.
Hey man, you always this sore after you fight?
He chuckled.
Cause I'm really sore.
Someone pushed open the half-closed door to his room and interrupted him.
"Jason?"
He recognized the voice.
"Hey, Dad," he said. He looked over his shoulder. "What's up?"
His father said nothing for a moment, studying Jason's face. He pushed his thumbs underneath the suspenders to his brown overalls, his normal fisherman's attire.
"That was you wasn't it?" his dad asked.
He gave his dad a puzzled expression, remembering what Zordon had said about never revealing his identity as a Power Ranger to anyone.
"Last night, at fourteenth and Brownlee," his dad started. "I saw that video of you pulling those people out of the rubble. Well, it looked like you."
"Oh," he relaxed but dropped his gaze to the floor. "Yeah, that was me. My friends, we were downtown, when, uh, all that craziness happened. Just doing what we could," he said. "Got rough," he added, gesturing to his face.
His dad smiled.
"I'm proud of you, that was very brave," his dad said. "You did the right thing."
"Thanks, dad."
"Oh, I wasn't going to tell your mother you went into a burning building."
He nodded. "Yeah, me neither."
His father turned to go but stopped to lean against the door frame.
"The docks are a mess. Me and some of the boys are headed down to clean up. You want to come?"
"Yeah, I'll be right down," he said, his mind traveling back to nearly twelve months ago.