To Geft: To be fair, Paris United isn't the only group giving out loans to help small businesses. The Agreste Charity does similar things.

Thierry sprinted across the park, the flying disc hurtling after him. Wind whipped through his hair. The sounds of laughing children filled the park, but Thierry couldn't let them distract him. Only a few paces ahead of him, a low wall of paving stones marked the edge of a garden patch, with a line of bushes growing on the other side. He reached up as far as he could without losing his balance, but still the frisbee remained just out of his reach by a couple of centimeters. The bushes were rushing to meet him; he was running out of time. But if he reached for the frisbee and missed, he would knock it away into the trees on the far side of the park. "Come on…" he muttered, concentrating and timing his jump.

"Grab it, bro!" shouted Laurent behind him, waving his arm and hopping up and down excitedly.

Just in front of the curb, Thierry twisted his body and pushed off into the air in a single smooth motion, snagging the frisbee with two fingers and pulling it in just as he felt the prickly bush against the back of his legs. Quickly, as if in slow motion, he scanned the small park for his friends and spotted Jacques, standing not too far from the park entrance, close to the carousel. Gravity was starting to pull Thierry down into the bushes. As he fell, he whipped the frisbee out, straight at Jacques' chest. The surprise on Jacques' face was the last thing Thierry saw before he fell behind the bush, pulling in his arms and bracing himself as King Monkey had taught him. Hitting the ground on his shoulder, he rolled to distribute the impact force and tumbled backward to his feet, popping up to find Jacques staring at him in shock, holding the frisbee in both hands.

"Dude, where did that even come from?" demanded Michel, as Thierry climbed over the line of bushes and jogged back over to the others, wincing and rolling his shoulders. A dozen little prickers seemed to have affixed themselves to his back through his shirt, and he tugged on the fabric to pull them out, brushing his lower back as best he could. When he reached them, Michel held out a hand to bump his fist, and Thierry grinned in exhilaration.

"I didn't realize you had that in you!" added Laurent, shaking his head in disbelief. "You been holding out on us?"

Thierry shook his head. "I don't know… I guess that instinct must have just taken over there," he replied. "You know how it goes: all of a sudden everything just… clicks."

Laurent scoffed. "So how the hell did we lose to the girls in that last Ultimate game?"

Thierry shrugged. "I… may have been practicing a little," he admitted, grinning sheepishly. "Gotta find something to do over the summer, right?" He winced, trying to suppress the urge to rub his hip where he had fallen a couple nights earlier while training with King Monkey. At the time he had thought King Monkey was crazy for insisting that they play frisbee for four hours – even if it might help his accuracy. But now?

He would never doubt King Monkey again.

Jacques arched an eyebrow. "Well, yeah, but I figured it would be video games or something."

Thierry worked his jaw, setting his mouth in a thin line to avoid wincing at the reminder. It wasn't Jacques' fault, of course; Thierry hadn't told anyone what his father had done. When he had left that morning, everything had been right where it was supposed to be; that afternoon, he had returned to find all his games… gone. Not that he should have been surprised by it. Letting out a breath, he gave Jacques a grin. "I'd rather hang out outside."

Laurent eyed Thierry suspiciously for a moment before clapping him on the shoulder. "Well, keep that up, and we'll blow the girls out of the water next time we play!"

"Think we should set up a rematch?" Michel grinned eagerly. "Victoria's been rubbing that stupid game in my face ever since…"

Thierry smirked. "Are you complaining?"

Michel gave him a look, the corners of his lips curving up into a grin. "Hey…"

Laurent rolled his eyes. "Go long," he told Thierry, drawing back the frisbee again and aiming around the carousel, toward a group of boys who looked close to their last year of lycée and who were playing football in the grass by the playground.

Thierry instantly sprinted away from the others, the wind whistling in his ears and blowing his hair around his head. It was a hot summer's day; even with the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves and almost drowned out the traffic noise from the streets bordering the park, his was already starting to soak in liters of sweat from the exertion.

And yet, for the middle of the day during the week, the park was pretty crowded, with a few older couples walking the path or else standing and admiring the makeshift tributary display around the statue of Ladybug and Cat Noir. A group on the far side of the park was throwing around an American football; a couple others were tossing a baseball. A girl a few years older than him leaned against a tree, watching a younger boy and girl on the swing set. Another pair of younger boys sat on the seesaw. A few parents talked under the shade of the trees lining the edge of the park.

The frisbee flew after Thierry in a straight line, only to catch a sudden wind gust and curve abruptly, angling in the direction of the swings. Still a half-dozen meters ahead of it, Thierry gritted his teeth, veering sharply in that direction, his eyes focused intently on the frisbee. An updraft pushed the disc up higher, and it struck the bar at the top of the swing set and ricocheted back at an angle, straight at Thierry's head. Ducking, Thierry grabbed it with one hand, nearly colliding with the swing set himself before he could stop. Grabbing onto the support, Thierry skidded to a stop, hanging onto the swing set for balance. The boys on the seesaw stared at Thierry in shock as he slid to the ground, clutching his chest and trying to catch his breath.

"That was awesome!" one of the boys enthused, his eyes wide.

"I want to try that!" his brother agreed eagerly.

"Me first!"

Thierry gave them a half-grin and shook his head in amusement, forcing himself to breath slowly and deeply. "You probably don't want to try that when the frisbee is coming straight for your head." Sucking in a deep breath, he glanced up to find two pairs of eyes staring back at him. Almost identical, he could hardly tell them apart beyond the one having his dark hair cut a little shorter than the other. But something in the eyes, or the shape of the face, seemed familiar.

Footsteps pounded, and Laurent jogged up to Thierry, Michel and Jacques right behind him. "Sorry, bro," Laurent called as he neared. "I didn't mean to hook it like that."

Thierry shrugged, holding up the frisbee and waving it back and forth. "No worries; I got it!"

"Not bad," Jacques told him, nodding approvingly.

Michel grinned. "That's definitely better than it getting you!"

Laurent stopped in front of Thierry, who held the frisbee out to him. Shaking his head, Laurent grabbed Thierry by the wrist and hauled him up to his feet. "You've got to teach me that, bro. I was sure you were about to lose some teeth!"

Thierry put a hand on Laurent's shoulder. "There's a very simple trick to it," he told him. "You see where the frisbee is going… and you go there."

Laurent gave him a deadpan look. "Thanks."

Michel rolled his eyes. "Are you serious here, dudes?" he demanded. "Let's get going already!"

Thierry scoffed. "Fine – but I'm not running for it this time – you go long!"

"Now we're talking!" Michel sprinted back in the direction of the carousel, glancing back over his shoulder as he went.

Waiting a moment, Thierry wound up and launched the frisbee after Michel, angling it slightly to cut through the wind. The frisbee shifted direction once as it hit a patch of wind and righted itself, only to get knocked a little too far the other way and turn back toward them. With a grimace, Michel lunged for the frisbee, which deflected off his fingertips and into the ground, just out of his reach. Thierry let out a muttered curse.

Grinning, Jacques clapped him on the shoulder. "I guess you can't be good at everything."

Thierry hummed. "I guess this one has a little different weight than I'm used to."

Michel lobbed the frisbee back at them, and Laurent jumped in front of Thierry to grab it out of the air. "Gotta be quicker than that, bro!" called Laurent, flicking the disc to Jacques as Michel slowly made his way back toward them.

Thierry groaned. "After the last two, you can have this one!" He rolled his shoulders. "Actually, I wouldn't mind a break for a couple minutes."

Pausing, Jacques raised an eyebrow. "What, you want to pick up some pastries across the street or something?"

Laurent hummed. "I could go for a snack."

Stretching his legs, Thierry started to lead the way back toward the entrance near the bakery. He'd only made it a few paces, however, when he heard the voices behind them, near the playground.

"Hey, did you get too much sun?" A few of the football players had left their friends behind and crowded around the two boys at the seesaw. "Your parents leave you out in the sun too long?"

"I hear that they dry out in the sun!" another boy laughed. "Like raisins!"

"No…" One of the twins folded his arms, frowning.

A third older boy scoffed. "I bet their parents don't care about them."

The other twin glared at him, arms folded. "That's not true!"

"Yeah?" sneered the first boy. "Then why'd they bring you here? No one wants you here!"

Beside Thierry, he could feel Michel tense. Laurent frowned. Thierry looked closer at the group. The twins looked scared, stuck on the seesaw with the older boys clustered on one side of them, and none of the parents were looking in that direction. The girl by the swings pursed her lips, watching the group of boys closely.

"Are people seriously like that?" Michel wondered.

Jacques shook his head. "We shouldn't engage them," he muttered. "It's not our business."

Thierry frowned. It wasn't any of his business, right? He was a superhero now, but that didn't mean he was always a superhero, did it? He didn't have to step in every time someone said mean things, did he? The two twins looked back and forth at each other nervously. Thierry's stomach clenched.

"You seriously want to just stand here and watch them bully a couple of kids?" Laurent demanded, frowning.

"They are pretty big…"

Oh, God damn it. Thierry's mouth set in a thin line, his eyes hardening. The Owl would never sit back and just watch someone get bullied.

Gritting his teeth, Thierry left the other three behind and marched toward the seesaw.

"Thierry!?" hissed Jacques, grabbing for his arm. "What are you doing!?"

"Hey!" Thierry shouted, clenching his hand into a fist. The older group of boys all jumped, turning to look at him in surprise. "Leave them alone!" Thierry growled, his eyes narrowed. "They weren't doing anything to you."

The leader, at least a head taller than Thierry, folded his arms and arched an eyebrow at him. "Yeah? Then what are they doing in my park?"

Thierry glared up at him, his mouth set in a thin line. "The same thing you were: playing. Now leave them alone." The twins looked up at Thierry in surprise, still sitting rooted in place on the seesaw. The other group glanced back and forth without moving. Thierry folded his arms. "Do I need to make you leave?"

The leader sneered, his hands tightening into fists. "You know, I kinda want to see you make me."

Thierry stepped closer, steeling his nerve. This was just a bully – he could handle this… right? "Yeah," he muttered, so softly that only the leader could hear. "Is this really the fight you want? Over whether or not you can bully a couple of kids? Because when I beat you, you'll look stupid in front of your friends. And if you actually beat me, then you're just the dick who likes to beat up kids smaller than himself."

The leader met his gaze for a long moment and scoffed. "Whatever. This isn't worth our time," he called to his friends, before turning and stalking away.

"Thank you," one of the twins told Thierry, once the older boys had left.

Thierry gave him a half-smile. "Don't mention it, kid." His smile dropped. Earlier this year, he wouldn't have done or said anything. He might have just watched it happen and thought it justified. But he couldn't do that anymore. "You okay?"

The twin nodded, frowning. "I think so?"

"What are your names?"

"I'm Salim," he answered promptly. "He's Samir."

"Where are you parents?"

"They're at work," Samir explained. "We came with our sister, but she stopped at the bakery across the street first – she'll be here soon." Thierry nodded as someone ran out of the bakery. "That's her now!"

Thierry let out a breath. "That's good," he told them, starting back toward the others. He paused for a moment and glanced back at Salim and Samir. "Um… stay safe."