It had been a week since James had finished school.
Despite all that, the time that Saori could spend face-to-face with her son had barely increased.
Be a doctor, her parents said. It'll be prestigious, it'll earn you money, it'll get you a good husband and you'll be able to grow a nice family. She snorted self-deprecatingly as she considered that. Look how that had turned out. She was earning quite a bit of money, yes, but no small amount from overtime pay, she looked like she was fifty-five years old when she was only forty-five, she'd been diagnosed with high blood pressure, her husband had left for greener pastures and oh, one of her fucking kids were dead.
James was all she had left, and yet, she couldn't even make the slightest time for him.
For whatever reason, Canberra had consistently lagged behind the rest of the country when it came to medical care. Patients waiting for elective surgery often waited at least two months, with an average of three months; even emergency rooms might take hours to open up to those with injuries or illnesses that weren't life-threatening. And in Canberra, there was plenty enough of those. Gang fights led to stabbings and beatings and punctured organs, and as a surgeon, Saori was one of the people there to patch them up.
All the fucking time.
Sometimes Saori wondered if any of her colleagues would care if she decided not to heal the young (or old) men with gang-affiliated tattoos on their shoulders, the white supremacists that glared at her when they saw who'd be treating them, if she simply let them die. It was a dark fantasy of hers, one that she thought about more and more as she came closer to her sixteenth year as a surgeon, but one she never truly managed to muster the courage to do.
And, if anything, she had it relatively easy. She had started working fewer hours - not much of a difference, going from maybe sixty-six to sixty-two hours a week on average - ever since the death of Esther, her firstborn. Her younger colleagues worked close to seventy sometimes, especially during summer, since that seemed to cause a sharp spike in gang activity. Furthermore, as the economy continued to spiral into depression, people continued to find medical school tuition more and more impossible to afford; new doctors were becoming rarer each passing year.
James had started to go to sleep earlier, which meant that the only time she could really speak to him was during the mornings, when he'd wake up to work out or go for a run, depending on the day of the week. She would try to exchange as many words as she could, pushing through the awkwardness as best she could. She loved James, and James loved her (she hoped). They were close, even if they didn't get to talk much, and sometimes when she had a good day they'd eat dinner together and, even despite her exhaustion, she'd force herself to stay up a little longer and help James with his homework or watch a movie with him.
Her effort was probably the only reason she knew of what he did at night.
James had, on his own volition, reported his power to her. She was glad he did, even if it did mean she was constantly worried for his health. She started keeping comprehensive first-aid kits in the house, if he ever got injured and needed to keep it off the book. He never mentioned what his so-called 'Trigger event' might be, but considering the death of his elder sister only three months before he reported it - well, she wasn't an idiot.
It was to both her and her son's great fortune, though, that James met Flying Fox on his first patrol, who appealed to him as a mentor figure. Fox was surprisingly level-headed, told James not to go out until he was sufficiently trained and sufficiently armored; the young man had even come over to their home for dinner once or twice, when Saori could get days off. Saori herself wasn't too interested in capes beyond what kind of injuries they could put on others, but even she knew who Flying Fox was. All of Canberra did, and even on the national stage he was fairly well-known, despite his lack of government or corporate sponsorship.
James spent about five to six months doing nothing but train with Fox. Sometimes… practical lessons, but Fox tried to avoid those until he felt James was ready. There was a brief period of time in late October when there were two independent vigilantes patrolling the city, and then Fox left, to the United States to live with his girlfriend if James was to be believed, and now it was only James - but despite that, Saori was much more confident about his safety than before.
Though she didn't have much to smile about these days, she still managed a few whenever she was on her coffee break and she saw that her son's Parahuman alter ego had made the local news again - beating back a villain (usually Killshot, due to how close his gang was) or rescuing people from thugs or dragging a driver in a wreck to safety.
She knew that Fox had taught him well, put him on the right path and all that, but she also had no doubt that James was, and always had been, a good kid.
She'd thankfully gotten New Year's off. She had decided to work on Christmas instead, allowing the other doctors with family to celebrate it together; she'd instead asked for New Year's, a day generally more important to her Japanese family than Christmas, so she could video call her parents in Tokyo as well as spend some time with her kid; of course, even for just New Year's Eve and New Year's, Saori had to draw straws with her coworkers.
She was damn glad she'd gotten those two days off. Despite most fireworks being restricted to the general public, people always managed to find ways to give themselves second-degree burns while drunk and drag themselves to the hospital in hordes. Although one could argue that treating dozens of burns was significantly better than extracting a Christmas ornament from someone's rectum. Because there was always that one person.
Saori sighed through her nose as she reached her apartment door. She stuck her key inside it and twisted. It got stuck. Fucking… she took a deep breath to calm herself down, and was reminded of James' smug impression from that day they'd gone shopping and he managed to unlock the door on his first try, because he'd likely been smoothing out the inside of the lock. She jiggled it around a little more vigorously and it opened. She lightly kicked the door as she entered, grumbling.
The door automatically swung shut behind her, as it was designed to do. She sighed. The light in the kitchen was still on, as usual, but there was a shadow there as well. "James?" she called, and he made a muffled noise. She smiled.
She found him with his cheeks bulging like that of a chipmunk, hunched over a pack of Oreos. She shook her head in exasperation. "Oreos so close to midnight, James? You won't be able to sleep."
He swallowed, and the lump visibly straining against his throat was an unpleasant sight. "I'm not going to sleep," he replied.
"Going out again?" Saori asked.
"Yeah. I need the sugar."
"The Oreos are costing us a fortune," Saori commented, putting down her bag to the side and cracking her knuckles.
"The gangs are costing us a fortune. If I can take down the gangs with the help of Oreos, we'll still be making a profit."
Saori rolled her eyes at him. He was dressed in his repurposed motorcycle gear, sans helmet. Everything was all laid out, ready to go. She opened up the fridge to find a plate with steamed veggies and grilled salmon. "Is this for me?"
"Yeah."
"Thanks, James. You're a good kid," she said honestly, and pretended not to notice him freeze and blush slightly. He blushed so easily - took after his prick of a father. It was cute on him, though, despite where it came from.
"I'll be back in a few hours," James said, putting on his hoodie. Saori nodded to him.
"Stay safe."
"I will. Love you, mum."
"I love you too, James."
Saori continued to smile softly even as he slid out the window (nearly gave her a heart attack when he first did it) and down onto the street. Her little hero. Despite his seemingly weak power - certainly wasn't as destructive as even the weaker villains in this city - he had done well for himself. A few cuts and bruises sometimes, but no major defeats. He truly was living up to Fox's legacy, and if he did ever join the Canberra Heat once he became an adult, he'd be a prized member for sure.
The microwave beeped. Saori sat down to eat. Even after so long, it tasted good.
"Who's there?"
Slipstick strained his eyes, searching for the source of the sound. He relaxed marginally as a dark figure appeared, holding an oil lantern that glowed a dull, wavering orange. It never failed to unnerve him, that one, what with all her 'Boatman of the Styx' kind of vibes. The lamp and its owner came closer, slowly revealing the silhouette of a cloaked and hooded person.
"Hello, Slipstick," she said softly.
"Wisp," Slip replied. "Do you always have to spook me when you show up?"
"I can't help it." The figure made some sort of motion that could be interpreted as a shrug. "It's not like I enjoy being seen."
"Aren't you, like, the second most popular member of the Heat? Adults and Juniors both?" Slipstick asked.
"And I hate it," Wisp grumbled. "They always want my autograph, and my handwriting isn't even that good. And they try to make me talk exactly because I don't talk."
"Maybe you could tell them to fuck off," Slipstick said, as the two began walking side by side. "The first words Wisp the introvert ever speaks on patrol - 'fuck off.'"
"PR would tan my hide," Wisp replied flatly. "And they'll tell me to be more friendly. And to help with that, I'll need a friendlier, more open costume. And by 'open', they mean exposing skin."
"Yeah, sucks." James briefly wondered what Wisp looked like in skin-revealing outfits - like they'd never seen the sun before, probably. "You could always become an independent, you know. Then you'd get to patrol with me, the nicest bloke in Canberra." Slip hummed to himself. "Speaking of, why are you patrolling this area?"
"I got temporarily redirected here because of increased activity from Killshot," she said, referring to the events of a week ago. "I've been patrolling the day before yesterday, and the day before that too. You just didn't see me, I guess."
"I saw Blink once."
"Yeah, I think that was… three days ago? We've been on a rotation."
"I guess Killshot isn't a small-timer anymore, huh?" Slip sighed. "I didn't think he'd go all out on me like that."
"Neither did Steadfast. She's increasing Heat presence near Killshot's and Baron's territories." Due to the similarity of their powers and the alliance between the two gangs, it was widely suspected Killshot was a second-generation trigger from the Red Baron.
"Think they're planning something?"
"Maybe. Maybe not." Wisp raised her free hand to make a so-so gesture. "I think Killshot just went a bit too far without realizing and now he's hiding to lose the Heat."
"Do you make that pun every single time this sort of thing happens?"
"Nobody appreciates my jokes. And they wonder why I don't talk," Wisp said.
Slip smirked. "Maybe they think you're a Case-53." Those were rare outside of the United States, but Australia did have its own - an armadillo-like hero called… Armadillo.
"Who's to say I'm not?" Wisp challenged.
Slip stared into her eyes. Or, at least, into her hood. "Are you really?"
"...nah. I don't have amnesia. I can still remember when I burst into tears the first time I was made to perform public speaking in school. And now I want to kill myself. Again."
Slip snorted. "Please don't. You're the second-best Junior Heat."
"There are only two Junior Heats, full stop."
"Well, I mean, of course it sounds bad if you put it that way."
"So you like Blink more than I do, huh?"
"Well, yeah. You're like all creepy, but Blink is blonde, wears a deliciously skintight costume, and probably plays volleyball." And reminded him of Liv.
"Volleyball?"
"Have you seen that ass?"
"Fucking creep."
Slip chuckled. "You know I'm joking, right?"
"You're not."
"Yeah, I'm not."
"And what about me?" Wisp looked at him. "Do I have a nice butt?"
Slip looked at her outline, which looked more like the Earth Aleph depiction of a Nazgûl more than anything. "...sure."
"You're so mean." Wisp swatted at him. "Dick."
"You know you love me."
"My mum loves you," Wisp said, and Slip choked. "She'd probably try to grab your bicep and tell you how strong you are. She's embarrassing like that."
"What about you? How high does she rank you?"
"I'm not even her favorite Junior Heat."
"Damn. That sucks."
"Yeah. But she likes me better than Duke or Steadfast, so that's something."
Slip stared at her. Steadfast - an Alexandria package. Those who punched her reported that they felt like they were punching a brick wall, and others reported talking to her was like talking to a brick wall, as well. Duke, who could - well, he wasn't a bad person, Slip was sure - be taken by some to be a bit of an asshole; a bit arrogant and bragged more than most. Honestly, it wasn't much of a victory. He told her as much.
"Slipstick, I was making a joke. It's a shock that I'm the second favorite in the Canberra branch, only after Alloy. I mean, yeah, Alloy's a Tinker so he's cool as hell, but I honestly wasn't expecting to be higher than Blink. Like you said, she's blonde, she's busty, has a moderately flashy power and she's nice to her fans. I ignore them most of the time."
"I think your power's really cool," Slipstick said honestly. "Even if I don't understand all of it."
"Photon manipulation in a two-point-four meter radius. Apparently." Wisp shrugged. "I don't know much about physics."
"Fuck physics."
"Fuck physics," she agreed. "I'm kinda hungry. I forgot to eat before I went out."
"There's a Macca's that way," Slip pointed. "I think it's open twenty-four hours. Or maybe that's just the drive-thru. I'm not sure."
"Console," Wisp said blandly, "permission to get a burger?"
Slip snorted, trying to contain his laughter at the flat tone in which it was spoken, and Wisp tilted her head to the side, listening. Eventually, she nodded. "Thanks, console." She turned to Slipstick. "Console says I can get Macca's."
"I thought Dementors ate happiness, not hamburgers."
"Shut up."
"Maybe a Happy Meal counts?"
Wisp didn't deign to respond.
"Do you have cash?" Slipstick asked.
"I keep it in here somewhere," she said, fumbling with her cloak and robe. "Eh, I'm sure I'll find it."
The McDonald's wasn't too far off the route of Wisp's patrol, so they dropped by. Since it was only the drive-thru, they just decided to walk under the arch while Slipstick made engine noises with his mouth until Wisp told him to shut up. The cashier at the window sort of stared at them, wondering what the hell he was seeing. Wisp bought herself a Big Mac with fries, while Slip went for a box of ten nuggets.
"Yeah, sorry," Wisp apologized as she fumbled her cash. "I only have one free hand, so… fuck."
"I got it," Slip said, picking up her cash and handing it to the man. Boy. Somewhere in between - he was about university age. "Thanks, dude."
"Hey, uh, could I…"
"Picture?" Slip guessed.
"Yeah," the guy said with a nervous smile. "If it's not too much trouble."
"No problem," Wisp said quietly, and the guy stuck his torso over the drive-thru window to take a selfie with them. Then he got two pair photos, one with Wisp, the other with Slip. As they returned to the patrol route, Wisp peeled her mask down (independent to the hood she wore) and took generous bites of the burger. She also ate the fries one at a time. So she was one of those people.
Meanwhile, Slip couldn't pull his helmet down, so he had to walk with the chin guard covering his eyes. He hung onto Wisp's cloak like a young child grasping their parent's shirt (it was kind of funny listening to Wisp grumble at him) and hoped he didn't trip over anything and drop his precious nuggets. The two of them finished their food and Wisp took both their rubbish. Slip raised an eyebrow at her as he pulled his helmet back down.
"I have pockets lined with waterproof fabric," she explained. "Heroes can't be seen littering."
"Wow."
"Yeah. Cool, huh?"
"I guess?"
Another thirty minutes passed without incident before Wisp paused. Her head-tilting indicated she was receiving information. "Understood," she said quietly. "Heading that way now." And then she turned ninety degrees, to her right, and began running East. Slip promptly followed her.
His left leg to two. Right leg to sixty. He began sliding along the road like he was riding a skateboard, easily keeping pace with Wisp, who glared at him in annoyance. She wasn't unfit - Slip sincerely doubted that any of the heroes, even the Juniors, were unfit - but running in heavy clothes probably wasn't that fun. By comparison, here he was, casually rolling along with his arms behind his head.
"Are you doing that just to annoy me?" Wisp asked.
"Doing what?"
"Never mind. Have more important things to focus on," she muttered. "Independent villain Juggernaut was sighted seven hundred meters east, apparently robbing a jewelry store. Remember, he's a Breaker-5, sub-categories Brute-7 and Mover-3, who enters a Breaker state which allows him to charge at speeds upwards of seventy kilometers an hour, but only in a straight line and for less than three seconds. While he's in his Breaker state, he's invulnerable to almost anything, including most other powers."
"Yeah, he's a fucking tool. We'll get him easy enough," Slip said with a grin.
"Yeah, and Juggernaut has still escaped the police, I don't know, a dozen times. He's also escaped once from Steadfast. You should be careful."
"Always am," Slip replied.
Wisp muttered something that he didn't quite manage to catch. "Fine. As soon as we see Juggernaut, I'm going dark. You distract him while I try to get up close to him so I can stun him."
Slip nodded. 'Going dark' in Wisp's sense was her bending the photons around her to shroud her figure. It wasn't foolproof, and it could be easily detected during the day - but it was close to invisible to any unsuspecting people during night. This was helped by Wisp's dark costume and the fact that nobody ever really expected her, despite being fairly famous in these parts.
Another minute and the two of them were on the scene; Juggernaut, and the three other members of his crew, were carefully carrying out their prize into the back of a truck. Slipstick began to veer away from the center of the road, running close to the buildings and letting his dark red outfit blend in against the brickwork; Wisp took a second to shift into near-invisibility and disappeared. Slip lost sight of the girl hero soon enough.
When facing multiple enemies, the element of surprise was always crucial. The guy keeping watch hadn't heard him - careful application of friction on the soles of his shoes with every single step, and every shift of body weight from his heel to toes, kept him quiet to the point of near-silence as he ran. When he was close enough, he slowed to a sneak and jumped the man.
Friction on his palms and fingers to two hundred. On his back to two hundred and fifty. The man made no noise except his breath being knocked from his lungs as Slipstick tossed him over his back in a judo throw which he didn't actually know the name of. A heavy thud as the man - fairly large and muscular - hit the ground. This got the attention of Juggernaut and one other thug. The last one was sitting in the driver's seat of the cabin and didn't seem to notice.
"Fucking Slipstick," Slip heard Juggernaut mutter. "Get the fuck out of here."
"Telling me never works, you know," Slip quipped.
He danced out of the way of Juggernaut rushing past him. Juggernaut was like a rhinoceros, just human-sized and significantly less maneuverable. The trick was to give yourself enough space to dodge, and Juggernaut would never be able to catch you. Juggernaut expertly spun on one foot, preserving his momentum, and charged again, lighting up with a kaleidoscopic aura as he rushed forward, his body frozen in time. Slip dodged again.
It was interesting. People suspected that Steadfast and Juggernaut might be a cluster trigger - after all, they basically had the same power, except for Steadfast it only worked when she didn't move, instead anchoring herself to one spot. And there was the fact that the one time they fought, their two powers canceled each other out and both of them ended up getting hurt.
As Juggernaut's three seconds ran out and the light faded away, he tried to spin again to face Slip but yelled out as a bright light, as bright as the sun, flashed out in front of him. He clutched his eyes, moaning in agony, and the light of Wisp's lantern disappeared once more. The man in the truck finally noticed what was going on, and the other henchman lunged at a dark shape where Wisp used to be, only to pass through air and stumble. He was struck by Wisp's taser in the back shortly afterward, and fell immobile to the ground.
The truck tried to move, only to find its wheels spinning uselessly as Slip set the tires to zero. While he let them spin, he held down Juggernaut and allowed Wisp to handcuff him. Wisp's form rematerialized from a blurry outline into a proper person - if a super goth one - and the two of them looked at each other, visor to mask. Wisp raised her free hand, curled into a fist. Slip bumped it.
"Nice," Slip said with an unseen grin.
"Console, Wisp and vigilante Slipstick has captured the villain Juggernaut," Wisp said. "With three of his henchmen."
Slip made sure to very quietly zip-tie the driver, making sure Wisp's statement was actually true.
"Great. Thanks." Wisp turned to Slip. "Police ETA in ninety seconds. They were already homing in on our position."
"Good to know," Slip said. He glanced at his watch. "Fucking hell - it's three in the morning. I wanna go to bed."
"Hmph. I have to stay up for another hour on patrol."
Slip scratched his neck. "Man, now that makes me feel bad. Fine, I'll stay up for another hour to be with you."
"You're too kind," Wisp said, but it was too quiet for Slip to determine if it was sarcasm or not. It probably was.
Slip didn't mind patrolling with Wisp at all. If he was honest, he was sort of interested in her, in a 'is she pretty behind the mask' kind of way. He knew that a lot of guys his age shared the same feelings about her, which led to her popularity. Blink was very attractive, with her buxom figure inside a tight costume, but Wisp had the mystique that caught a lot people's interest. Not that Wisp herself realized that.
The remaining hour was spent in peace. Killshot didn't pop up today, either. Maybe he really was just laying low - Slip might joke that he didn't have the brain cells necessary to formulate a plan, but he'd underestimated Killshot's ruthlessness last week already, he didn't need to underestimate the villain again. Maybe he could shoot Fox a message, see what he thought about all this.
Wisp and Slipstick parted ways an hour later, with the former being picked up by a police vehicle that'd transport her back to Heat headquarters in Civic, near the city central shopping district and near the Australian National University. Slip was given permission to grab the police cruiser's mirror and slide alongside the car, hitching a ride until he was near where he always dumped his backpack. He circled the block, making sure nobody was tailing him, then retrieved his backpack, covered himself in his hoodie, and went back home.
He increased the friction on his fingertips to five hundred and his toes to seven hundred and began scaling the wall of his apartment towards his open window, like Spider-Man. He couldn't turn the friction all the way up to one thousand or otherwise the concrete started flaking off from his weight; since the Manton effect protected his own body from burning up, all the force was applied to the wall itself. He rolled over the windowsill and landed on the strategically placed sofa with an 'oomph.'
He closed the window, and crept back into his room. He dumped his backpack in the corner, messily shoved his costume behind the underwear drawer, and drowned himself in deodorant before changing into PJs. He checked his personal phone - his work phone was long since turned off - and realized Liv had responded to one of his earlier messages.
Yeah, I can meet up with u
Whats ur schedule like
I can do tues(28) at like 11am?
James lay down in bed, and smiled.