Elara adjusted the straps of her black halter-neck dress as she stepped into the park.

The late winter air carried a crisp chill, though the promise of spring lingered in the scent of damp earth and the delicate buds sprouting on the skeletal branches above.

A few brave leaves had begun to unfurl, speckling the trees with the faintest hints of green.

The sky, a vivid light blue, stretched above the cobbled pathways, where skyscraper windows reflected the sunlight, casting warm golden pools of light everywhere.

The faint murmur of conversation, laughter, and the distant strumming of a street musician wove together in a quiet symphony of city life.

Then, an explosion.

A deafening boom tore through the park, shattering the tranquil atmosphere. A burst of orange and red ignited the air, momentarily setting the sky ablaze. A rush of heat pulsed outward, rustling the trees, sending startled birds into the air, and drawing gasps from nearby park goers. Smoke billowed upward in twisting tendrils, the scent of burnt sulfur and charred paper thick in the cold wind.

Elara blinked, then exhaled sharply. Of course.

She picked up her pace, weaving through the scattered crowd toward the source of the explosion. As she stepped past a smoldering patch of grass, her gaze landed on the culprit. A young man stood amidst the haze, coughing violently as he swatted at his singed dark blazer. His wood brown hair, streaked naturally with fiery orange tips, now bore an additional layer of soot, the ends curling slightly from the residual heat. His red eyes, gleaming like embers, darted around as he patted himself down, checking for any lingering flames.

"I might have overdone it," he admitted to no one in particular, his voice raspy from the smoke. He straightened, brushing ash from his sleeves with an air of practiced nonchalance - like a man who had, on multiple occasions, found himself unexpectedly charred.

Elara crossed her arms, lips pressing into a flat line. "I take it that was you."

He turned at the sound of her unimpressed tone, eyes sweeping over her before a lopsided grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Elara," he greeted, as if they had just bumped into each other at a coffee shop instead of in the aftermath of a miniature detonation.

She sighed, reaching into her small purse. Producing a crumpled tissue - stained slightly with lipstick and vibrant mushroom residues but otherwise intact - she held it out.

He accepted it but hesitated upon closer inspection. "This isn't clean."

"It's clean enough."

His expression flickered with disbelief, but instead of arguing, he simply tucked the tissue away and made his way to a nearby public water tap. Twisting the knob, he let the cold water run over his hands before splashing it onto his face, clearing away the last remnants of soot. He scrubbed at his jaw, exhaling as the sting of residual heat faded against his skin.

Elara watched, unperturbed. "So. Want to explain why you started our date with an explosion?"

The young man - Callum, as she now recalled from their brief text exchanges - straightened, running a damp hand through his still-smoking hair. "To be fair, I didn't plan to start things this way." He flashed a sheepish grin. "Just got carried away."

She arched a brow. "Carried away?"

He nodded. "You ever just get … urges?"

"Urges?" she parroted, uninterested.

"Yeah. Like, sometimes you feel like eating ice cream, sometimes you feel like setting things on fire."

Elara exhaled slowly, "That is not the same thing. I'm reconsidering this date."

Callum placed a dramatic hand over his heart. "Ouch. That wounds me, Elara."

"Not as much as a firework to the face should have," she muttered, shaking her head.

Callum chuckled, turning back toward her as he flicked stray droplets from his fingers. He adjusted his blazer, though the burnt edges and faint scorch marks were not exactly fixable. Still, he smiled as if nothing was amiss. "Well," he said, "not quite the entrance I was aiming for."

Elara tilted her head. "What was the goal, then?"

He hesitated, lips quirking. "Awe. Admiration. Maybe a little bit of mystery."

She gave him a slow, detached blink. "Congratulations. You've achieved chaos, singed clothing, and mild secondhand embarrassment."

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess that one's a work in progress."

Rolling her eyes, Elara turned on her heel, walking deeper into the park. Without massing a beat, Callum fell into step beside her, brushing off the last embers from his sleeves as they moved past the shops and buildings. The chilly air nipped at Elara's skin, but the mushrooms she ingested earlier and the warmth radiating from Callum - quite literally, given his little mishap - made it feel a little less biting.

"Well," Callum mused, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "If nothing else, I promise the rest of the date will be a lot less explosive."

Elara side-eyed him. "Forgive me if I don't believe you. Actually, don't bother. I don't really care what you think."

His grin widened. "Fair enough."

Jace pressed his back against the cool brick wall of the alleyway, breath hitching as he peeked around the corner. A few feet away, Elara and her so-called date strolled through the park, bathed in the golden glow of the late afternoon sun. The air still carried a lingering scent of charred sulfur from the earlier explosion, though Elara did not seem nearly as perturbed by it as she should have been. If anything, she looked … amused.

That was not a good sign.

"Alright," Izuku whispered, crouching beside him. "I have to ask - what exactly are we doing here?" His green eyes flickered with uncertainty, though his analytical mind was undoubtedly piecing things together already.

Jace sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had not planned to involve anyone else in this, but the idea of staking out Elara's date alone had felt wrong - and, well, terrifying. Despite his quirk, he was not exactly known for his bravery. So he had dragged in backup. "I just … I have a bad feeling," Jace muttered. "Elara's taste in guys is … let's say historically questionable. And this one? He just set off a mini explosion on purpose. That's not exactly 'healthy relationship material.'"

"Maybe she just likes interesting people," Marco offered, leaning casually against the alley wall. "You have to admit, guy's got flair."

"Flair?!" Jace hissed. "You saw what happened! She walked into the park and five minutes later, the sky was on fire! This is already one of her better first dates!"

"Then shouldn't we trust her judgment?" Izuku reasoned, though his voice lacked conviction. He was not entirely on board with this whole operation, but he also was not leaving.

Jace exhaled through his nose. "Look, I've known Elara since elementary school. I know the signs. She's been preparing for this for weeks. The way she's been sneaking off to check her phone, the random shopping trips, the fact that she actually wore a dress. This one matters to her." He frowned, watching as Elara playfully nudged her date's arm. "That's why I have to make sure she doesn't get hurt. Again."

Renée, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke. "So instead of talking to her like a normal person, you decided to stalk her?"

Jace grimaced. "I prefer 'closely monitoring.'"

"That doesn't make it better."

Jace ignored the comment, turning his attention back to the couple. They had stopped near a street musician, and Elara was laughing - actually laughing - at something her date had said. Jace's stomach twisted.

"This is bad," he mumbled. "This is so bad."

Renée huffed, "You could just let her live her life, you know."

"Or," Marco chimed in, all too eager for the potential drama, "we could get closer."

Izuku looked alarmed. "That sounds like the worst possible idea." But Jace was already moving, ducking behind a park bench as Elara and Callum started walking again. The others exchanged glances before reluctantly following. "Let it be known," he whispered as they crept along the edge of a flower bed, "that I am only here because I don't trust you to do this competently."

Jace gave a tight nod. That was fair.

Elara's date was far from over, and he was not about to let his childhood friend walk into disaster without a proper safety net. Even if it meant hiding in bushes and making questionable life choices. Some things never changed.

Elara walked ahead, hands in her dress pockets, her long, grey hair catching in the light breeze and flicking over one shoulder as if dismissing the city itself. Her deep blue eyes, cool and calculating, scanned the familiar streets with practiced ease, reflecting the late afternoon sun with an almost unsettling sharpness. The dark, near-ebony skin of her features, framed by the silken cascade of her hair, only heightened her air of effortless command - like a dark elf stepping through a world that had long since ceased to surprise her.

Behind her, Callum trailed just slightly, adjusting his stride to match hers, though it was clear he was only humoring her lead. He was not struggling, exactly, but there was a tension in the way he moved, as if he were hyper-conscious of the fact that he was not the one directing this so-called date.

"You know, I can get us to the restaurant faster if you just let me lead," Callum offered, gesturing ahead as if she needed directions.

Elara barely turned her head, but a slow, derisive smirk curled at the edge of her lips. "Oh, please. I could navigate this city blindfolded. Or, better yet, even under the influence of my hallucinogenic mushrooms." She cast him a sidelong glance, her eyes cool as winter rain. "Do you want me to hold your hand so you don't get lost?"

Callum scoffed, but let the comment slide, pivoting the conversation instead. "You know, my brother would love this place. He's always talking about how cities have their own personalities. The way people move, the way the lights change, the way-"

Elara breathed sharply, flipping a strand of hair behind her shoulder with a flick so dismissive it could have knocked over a lesser man. "Oh, here we go."

Callum hesitated. "What?"

"You've got a full-blown brother complex, don't you?" she drawled, rolling her eyes. "I swear, I could take a whiff of shrooms every time you mention him, and I'd be unconscious in ten minutes."

"That's not-"

"I mean, do you ever have an original thought, or is your brain just 'My Brother Said This' and 'My Brother Said That' on repeat?"

He bristled. "That's not fair. He's just-"

"Your idol? Your inspiration? Your north star?" Elara interrupted, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let me guess, if he walked into traffic, you would follow him just to make sure he did it the 'right' way?"

"You're crossing-"

But Elara had stopped listening. She abruptly veered toward a small vendor stall, drawn by the scent of hot tea and fresh sandwiches. Without a word, she stepped forward, ordering a cup of black tea and two turkey sandwiches. The vendor, an elderly man with kind eyes, handed her the steaming cup first. She wrapped her fingers around it, exhaling contentedly as the warmth seeped into her palms.

Callum, now standing awkwardly beside her, frowned. "You're not even going to acknowledge what I just said?"

Elara took her tea, paid, and sat down on a nearby bench, staring straight ahead. She did not respond.

"Oh, so now you're giving me the silent treatment?" Still no answer. She took a slow sip of tea, the steam curling up past her face, momentarily shrouding her expression in mist. "You're impossible."

Elara set the cup down and, without looking at him, held out one of the sandwiches. Callum reached for it, only for her to pull it back at the last second. Without hesitation, she unwrapped it and took a bite. Then another. And another. Until the second sandwich was gone, too.

His eye twitched. "Seriously?"

She chewed thoughtfully, then shrugged, the motion causing her hair to slide over one shoulder. "What? You didn't say you were hungry."

"That's not the point! You-"

His words were cut off by a sudden lurch beneath his feet. Before he could react, the ground caved in, sending him tumbling into a shallow hole. A startled yelp escaped him as he landed flat on his back. Somewhere nearby, a mutant kid snickered, a faint glow still flickering from their fingertips as they admired their handiwork.

Elara, meanwhile, crouched at the edge of the hole, utterly unbothered. The sun's rays peeking through the branches above cast long shadows across her sharp cheekbones, the amused glint in her eyes bordering on cruelty. Then, with a slow, languid stretch, she laid down, arms folded under her head as she gazed down at him like he was an animal in a zoo exhibit.

Callum groaned, shifting to sit up. "You could help, you know."

She cocked her head. "Mmm." Raising one hand to check an imaginary watch before returning to its cushion position. "Nah."

"You're actually the worst."

"You'll live."

He scowled. "How are you this relaxed right now?"

Elara grinned, toying idly with a lock of hair with her other hand before tossing it behind her once more. "Everything's fine."

"Everything is not fine - I just fell into a hole!"

"Sounds like a you problem." He gritted his teeth, struggling to climb out while she remained entirely unmoved. Two minutes passed in silence, aside from his occasional grumbles and the soft sip of her tea. Then, just as he managed to hoist himself up enough to glare at her properly, she finally spoke again. "It's the same feeling as losing a carp fight in December, right?" She gave him a slow, mocking grin, her features cast in playful malice. "You did it perfectly."

Callum gawked at her, incredulous. Then, with an exasperated groan, he flopped back into the hole, staring up at the sky in pure, exhausted defeat. "How could I have forgotten basic safety rules?"

Elara took another sip of her tea.

Best date ever.

From the shadowed alcove of a nearby café, Jace, Izuku, Marco, and Renée watched the unfolding disaster with a mix of amusement, disbelief, and sheer secondhand embarrassment.

Jace, leaning casually against a lamppost, shook his head with a knowing smirk. "This is a train wreck, but like … in slow motion. And on fire."

Izuku, sitting with his chin propped up on his hands, frowned in deep concentration. "I don't think it's a train wreck. It's more like … Elara doesn't actually register this as a date. It's just another power struggle she's determined to win." Then, as an afterthought, "I still think this is a bad idea, but it gives me something to tell me Kamiko later."

Marco snorted, taking a lazy sip of his iced coffee. "I mean, Callum's holding up better than I thought. I was expecting him to just throw his hands up and walk away by now. El hombre tiene gallas."

Renée, who had been silently scrolling on her phone between glances at the scene, finally looked up. "No, see, he's stubborn. That's why this is still going. He thinks if he just plays along long enough, she'll soften up."

They all paused to watch as Elara casually obliterated Callum's attempt at discussing his brother, then smoothly transitioned into eating both sandwiches without remorse.

"Man, that's cold," Jace let out a low whistle.

Izuku winced. "I actually feel bad for him. He looked so betrayed. Didn't you guys mention that he has a multiple personality kind of quirk? Various personas, somehow coexisting inside him? Gosh, I'm feeling sorry for all of them."

"He should've known better," Marco laughed. Of everyone, he seemed to be enjoying this excursion the most. "We all could've told him food-sharing was never on the table. Proof? Every single time we've eaten with Elara in the dining hall."

Renée raised an eyebrow. "It's actually impressive how effortlessly she dodges any serious conversation. She's like a conversational fencer. No matter what he throws, she counters instantly."

Jace could not help but note that Renée was similar in that regard, where she never noticed his open, longing stares or reacted visibly to their accidental touches. But he said nothing about it. Because that was his fault for being too chicken to be straightforward with his feelings. So instead, Jace chuckled, rubbing his jaw. "Yeah, but she's playing on hard mode. Eventually, she's gonna hit someone who can match her."

Before any of them could respond, Callum abruptly disappeared into a hole in the ground with a startled yell. A mutant kid nearby cackled an unrepentant glee, their hands glimmering softly from whatever ability had caused the sudden collapse. For a long moment, the group simply stared. Then, Marco doubled over laughing, nearly spilling his coffee. "Oh, that's it! That's the highlight of my day! I can go home now."

Izuku groaned, lacking the same enthusiasm as Marco. "Should we … help him?"

Jace, grinning, gestured toward Elara, who had just stretched out languidly beside the pit like she was sunbathing. Never mind, she was doing that in 40 degrees Fahrenheit weather. "Look at her. That's the face of someone who is not lifting a finger. And honestly? It's kinda hilarious."

Renée squinted, watching Elara drink her tea with unshaken calm. "This woman just witnessed her date fall into a hole and decided to have a spa moment instead."

"I don't know if I should be impressed or concerned," Izuku sighed, rubbing his temples.

Marco, wiping away a tear of laughter, waved a hand dismissively. "Both. Both is good. Always both."

They continued to watch as Callum, still fuming, struggled to climb out, while Elara offered no assistance beyond an occasional ignorant remark. Eventually, he seemed to give up, collapsing back into the hole in sheer frustration. Jace smiled, "Well, at least he's learning."

"This is some kind of endurance test," Renée said, shaking her head. "And honestly? I think he's gonna keep coming back."

"That's what worries me," Izuku agreed.

Marco, still chortling, raised his cup in a mock toast. "To Callum Hughes, the bravest fool in the city. May he one day earn a sandwich of his own." They all clinked their drinks together in silent camaraderie, before turning their eyes back to the ever-entertaining chaos that was Elara's so-called date.

Elara tapped her fingers against the rim of her teacup, sitting, watching Callum's latest attempt at escaping the pit with vague interest. He was persistent, she would give him that. Unfortunately for him, persistence was not always enough. He clawed at the edge of the hole, only for the soil to crumble beneath his grip, sending him sliding back down with an irritated curse.

"Elara," he huffed, looking up at her with a glare that barely concealed his frustration, "if you're not going to actually help, can you at least get someone else?"

Elara took another drag of her tea, considering his request. Then, with deliberate care, she set the cup down beside her and stretched out an arm toward him. "I am helping," she said, tone as light as the wind cutting through the city streets.

Callum eyed her extended hand with deep skepticism. Rightfully so. She was not exactly making an effort to seem useful. Still, desperation had a way of making people hopeful. He reached up and grabbed hold of her hand, pulling with what little leverage he had-

And Elara, ever the supportive date, did absolutely nothing.

His red eyes widened a split second before he slid back down, barely managing to brace himself before landing in an undignified heap at the bottom of the pit. She propped her chin up with her palm, moving her head to the side. "Whoops."

Callum groaned, rubbing a hand over his face before glowering up at her again. His crimson eyes seemed to turn scarlet now from rage. "Okay, new plan," he began, carefully controlled. "If you're not going to actually help, go get someone who will."

Elara exhaled, feigning deep contemplation. "That is an option.

His eye twitched. "Yes. It is."

With a long-suffering sigh, Elara dusted off her dress, rose to her feet, and strolled away as through she had not just left her date trapped in a hole. She took her time, of course. The cold air was crisp, and she was not about to rush over something that, realistically, would solve itself one way or another. Eventually, she spotted a lone figure jogging down the path.

The woman was older - perhaps in her sixties - but carried herself with a kind of unwavering strength. Her white hair was tied in a high ponytail, and the tank top she wore left little to the imagination when it came to her musculature. She looked as if she could bench press Elara and Callum at the same time.

Perfect.

"Excuse me," Elara called out, stepping into the woman's path. "Would you mind helping? My date is in a bit of a predicament."

The woman slowed, arching a brow. "What kind of predicament?"

Elara gestured vaguely. "He's stuck in a ditch."

The jogger blinked. Then, without hesitation, she turned on her heel and followed Elara back to the scene. By the time they returned, Callum had resigned himself to his fate, leaning against the dirt wall with the expression of a man who had given up on all good things in life.

"Alright, where is he?" the woman asked, scanning the area.

"There." Elara pointed.

The woman took one look, strode over, and reached down - grabbing Callum by the back of his jacket. Without so much as a grunt of effort, she lifted him clean out of the pit and set him on solid ground as though he weighed nothing at all. Elara sipped her half-empty cup of tea, watching the entire exchange with mild amusement.

Callum barely had time to process his abrupt rescue before the jogger patted him on the head like a scolded child. "You need to eat more greens, boy. Can't go around getting stuck in holes if you want to grow strong." Elara's lips twitched. Callum, for once, seemed too stunned to argue. His face turned a faint shade of pink, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to protest but could not quite find the words. The woman nodded in satisfaction. "Good boy." Then, with that, she resumed her jog without a second glance.

Elara, utterly pleased with the turn of events, smirked as she met Callum's flustered gaze. "Well, you did ask for help."

He took a long, deep breath, again dragging his hand down his face. "I hate you."

She hummed, finally finishing the tea. "No, you don't."

Elara dusted off the last few drops of sandwich crumbs from her fingers, observing as Callum rolled the tension from his shoulders, now free from his dirt-ridden confinement. His blazer was slightly disheveled, his hair tousled from the ordeal, but the sharp gleam in his eyes had returned: challenging, smug, as if daring her to comment.

She did not.

Rather, she stretched her arms behind her back, inhaling the now early evening air. "So," she mused, "was that enough excitement for one evening, or do you intend to continue making a spectacle of yourself?"

Callum scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Bold of you to assume I was the spectacle," he shot back. "I wasn't the one who enlisted a professional bodybuilder to hoist me out of the ground."

She smirked cunningly. "You're welcome."

He rolled his eyes, but there was something lighter in his posture now, a subtle shift from the exasperation from earlier. He glanced up at the streetlights flickering in the distance, the city stretching before them, alive with a quiet hum of rising nighttime activity.

"... I'm starving."

Elara gaped at him, wide-eyed. "You just said you weren't the spectacle."

He beamed, sharp and lopsided. "Yeah, yeah. C'mon, let's get food."

She considered it for a moment, then sighed, shaking her head as she fell into step beside him. "Fine. But if you get stuck in another hole along the way, I'm leaving you there."

The ramen shop was tucked between two larger buildings, its weathered wooden sign swaying gently in the night breeze. A soft glow spilled from the paper lanterns hanging outside, and from within, the clatter of bowls and the rhythmic hum of conversation filled the air.

The moment they stepped inside, the warmth of the restaurant wrapped around them, thick with the scent of miso broth, soy sauce, and freshly cut scallions. The place was packed: cramped tables filled with customers hunched over steaming bowls, chopsticks clinking against ceramic. A flurry of movement from behind the counter signaled the cooks, their voices curt and efficient as they ladled broth and tossed noodles with practiced ease.

Elara barely had time to take in the details before Callum had already slumped into the nearest open seat, sprawling out as if he owned the place. His usual poised arrogance had taken a backseat, replaced by something looser, less refined.

She recognized the shift instantly.

Callum had always been a man of many faces, adapting his demeanor as easily as one changed coats. He said that it was courtesy of quirk: a multiple personality ability where he could switch from one personality to the next in a matter of seconds. He liked to joke that the skill would make him an excellent actor, but Elara begged to differ. For example, now. This one - this version of him - was different. Louder. Bolder. Unapologetically ill-mannered. It was a shade of him she rarely saw, one that she did not care to see, because it bore an uncanny resemblance to his younger sister's reckless energy.

Elara slid into the seat across from him, studying him with her chin in her palm. "I see we've entered this phase of the evening."

He shot her a cocky grin. "Oh, don't look so thrilled."

Their bowls arrived quickly, steam curling from the surface as the rich aroma filled the space between them. Callum wasted no time. The moment the bowl hit the table, he tore into it with the enthusiasm of a man who had spent weeks on a deserted island.

She watched, rather disgusted, as he inhaled his noodles with violent efficiency. Slurping so loudly that the elderly man at the next table turned to grimace. Callum either did not notice or did not care. His chopsticks were wielded with the grace of a toddler, tonkotsu broth splashing onto the table as he practically shoveled food into his mouth.

Elara lifted a delicate spoonful of shoyu broth to her lips. "You eat like a feral dog."

He did not even look up, speaking around a mouthful of noodles. "And yet, I'm still the most charming person at this table."

"Objectively false."

"You wound me, Elara." The same words from when their date started. He repeated the same gesture: a dramatic hand over his chest, before promptly stuffing another bite into his mouth.

Elara pinched the bridge of her nose. His behavior was grating on her, and she was only two filthy acts away from telling him to get lost and never contact her again. "You do realize I've met your sister, yes? If you're going to emulate her, at least commit."

That did it.

The merriment in his gaze darkened into something sinister, something less playful. His posture shifted, ever so slightly, as if something else had settled into his bones. The resemblance to his sister was no longer just in his mannerisms - it was in his very presence, something restless and hungry, as though a ghost of her head had seeped into his skin.

And when he spoke again, it was not just Callum's voice.

"She thinks you're stealing me," he spoke, voice light, but carrying a weight beneath it.

Elara did not react - at least, not outwardly. She merely hummed, lifting a set of chopsticks wrapped with noodles to her mouth with slow precision. "She thinks a lot of things. Most of them are crap."

"She thinks she's losing me."

"Perhaps she should consider whether she's driving you away instead."

Callum - or rather, the presence of his sister tangled in his words - let out a short, humorless laugh. "Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you?" His grin was all teeth now, menacing and knowing. "You like having me to yourself. You pretend not to care, but you do."

Elara took another large bite before speaking. "You're mistaken."

"Oh?"

She leaned forward just enough that the air between them felt charged, a quiet challenge resting in her gaze. "I'm not stealing you," she murmured, smooth as silk. "You're choosing to follow. Tell your sister that the next time you see her."

For a fleeting moment, something wavered in Callum's expression, something uncertain. The malicious edge dulled, the weight behind his stare flickering like a candle caught in a breeze. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. He let out a small laugh, leaning back with a dramatic sigh, dragging his fingers through his messy hair. "Ugh. You're no fun, Elara."

She smirked, ready to enjoy her meal without having an animal in front of her to ruin her appetite. "I know."

All things considered, Elara and Callum tolerated each other's presence enough to have decided to visit one last place before ending their date. The neon lights of the arcade glimmered in the night air, their electric hum mixing with the distant chatter of pedestrians. Callum, now fully himself again - well, as much as could authentically be - stretched his arms overhead, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the remnants of his sister's presence. "Alright, Elara. I hope you're ready to be humiliated at air hockey."

"You assume too much," though she accepted the challenge.

Inside, the arcade was a cacophony of flashing screens, buzzing machines, and the rapid clatter of buttons. Callum led the way, his gait easy, the earlier tension between them dissolving into something lighter. Easier. They spent an hour hopping from one game to the next, just being kids. Elara triumphed at rhythm games; Callum flexed his skills at first-person shooters.

Everything was going fine. Until it was not.

As they exited the arcade, stepping onto the dimly lit street, a man deliberately brushed past Callum, striking his arm hard enough to jostle him. A muttered insult followed, just under his breath but sharp enough to cut. Callum stiffened. His reflexive anger simmered beneath the surface, his fingers flexing at his sides.

Before he could react, Elara smoothly slid between them, stepping forward with an exaggerated casualness that was far more dangerous than any overt aggression. "Apologize," she said flatly.

The man turned, his lips curling into a sneer as he gave her a once-over. "You got a problem, sweetheart?"

Callum moaned, "Oh no."

Elara grinned, a glint of mischief sparking in her eyes. "Sweetheart? That's cute." She tilted her head. "Say it again, so I can see if I misheard or if you're really that stupid."

The man's sneer twisted into something uglier. "You've got a big mouth."

"And you've got the fragile ego of a man who drinks warm beer alone," she retorted.

His face darkened. "Think you're funny?"

"I know I am."

The tension between them crackled. Callum, instead of fueling the situation, took a calculated step forward, lifting his hands as if to say, Everyone, let's take a step back and talk like civilized adults.

However, that was not going to happen. The man's temper had finally snapped. "You wanna take this outside?"

Elara chuckled, "We are outside, drunkard."

Callum groaned, "You just had to say it, didn't you?"

The man lunged. Elara moved first.

She dodged his swing effortlessly, twisting around him, and with no hesitation, kicked him square in the back. The force sent him stumbling forward, crashing onto the pavement. He barely had time to launch his offense before she grabbed the back of his head and slammed it into the nearby wall. His body went slack.

Callum whistled, slow and impressed. "Well, that escalated."

Elara crouched next to the unconscious man, checking his pulse. Still alive. Good.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small cloth infused with a ground-up narcotic mushroom mixture that she had made earlier in the day. As if this was not her first time doing so, she rubbed it across his nose and mouth. The effect was immediate: his breathing slowed, his body remaining lax.

"You just carry that around?" Callum asked, incredulous.

"You don't?" Elara dusted off her hands, standing. "It's called being prepared."

He shook his head, looking down at the dazed man, then back at her. "Remind me never to piss you off."

"Oh, Callum," she patted his cheeks before saundering ahead. "You're already on thin ice."

He watched her go before sighing and trailing after her. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just get something sweet before you start another brawl."

As they walked away from the scene of Elara's impromptu takedown, Callum shook his head, still half in disbelief. "You really don't hesitate, do you?"

Elara replied nonchalantly, "Hesitation gets you hurt."

Callum was not sure how to feel about that answer, but he let it slide. It was not just her combat skills that intrigued him, it was how she carried herself. She did not just react to the world; she shaped it to her will. Confident, resourceful, unshaken. There was no pretense with her, no manufactured charm or forced politeness. She was sharp-witted, capable, and always two steps ahead.

As they turned the corner, the atmosphere shifted. Callum caught the way Elara tensed, her sharp eyes flicking toward the shadows between buildings. She breathed loudly, irritated rather than alarmed.

"They're following us," she muttered.

Callum followed her gaze and spotted them - Jace, Marco, Renée, and a green-haired boy whose name he struggled to recall - keeping their distance but moving with intent. Callum groaned. "You know, for a guy who's supposed to be subtle, Jace is aboslute garbage at tailing someone."

Elara was already done with the situation. She rubbed her nose bridge. "Apparently." Without breaking stride, she veered into a narrow alley. Callum stalled, then followed. Predictably, Jace took the bait, leading his gang right in after them. Elara waited until they were fully committed before she stopped, spinning on her heel. "Okay," she called out, her voice laced with boredom. "Let's cut to the chase. Why are you following me?"

Jace stepped forward, hands on either side of his hips, but not in any authoritative manner. Rather, a casual, cool guy demeanor. "Relax, angry mushroom. Just keeping an eye on you. Making sure you're not getting into too much trouble."

Callum grumbled under his breath, "Oh, for the love of-"

Elara raised her chin, something predatory in her gaze. "And what exactly do you think I'm doing?"

He took another step, his confidence an irritating thing. "We all know you don't do things without a reason, Elara. So I'm curious. Is this a game? A distraction? Or are you actually starting to like the company?" He nodded toward Callum. "Because that'd be a shame. Disrespectful to both him and yourself."

Callum scoffed. "I feel like I should be offended."

Elara, however, was done entertaining the conversation. She stepped forwarded so quickly Jace could not activate his quirk and put up his defenses soon enough before her first crashed into his jaw. The impact sent him staggering back, but she was not finished. She grabbed the front of his shirt, yanked him forward, and drove her knee into his ribs.

He wheezed, stumbling. "Shit-"

"Following. Me," she punctuated each word with a calculated strike - an elbow to the temple, a sharp kick to the back of his knee - sending him crashing down, "Was. A. Mistake."

The others hesitated, torn between jumping in or running for it. Elara rolled her shoulders, cracking her knuckles. "Anyone else?"

They wavered. Callum, recognizing the shift in momentum, stepped up beside her, waving both hands in a placating gesture. "Personally, I'd advise against it."

Jack, moaning, managed to lift his head. "Damn it, Elara!"

She crouched down, gripping his collar and pulling him forward so they were eye to eye. "Stay out of my business," she whispered, low and dangerous. "Or next time, I won't be so generous." Elara released him, and he collapsed onto his back, cursing under his breath. Straightening, Elara turned around like she had not just dismantled the guy in under a minute. Callum studied her, a slow grin spreading across his face.

"Okay," he admitted. "That was kinda impressive."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Only 'impressive'?"

He shrugged. "What do you want me to say? 'Terrifyingly competent'? 'Brutally efficient'?" He nodded toward the gasping Jace. "Because I'm leaning toward the latter."

"Smart man," she smirked.

As they stepped back onto the main street, Callum chuckled. "So, still ready to call it a day? Or are you up for dessert? Maybe you're planning on knocking out someone else first?"

Elara made a noncommittal sound, considering. "I think I can spare a few minutes before my next altercation."

Callum laughed.

Yeah, he liked her.

And not because she was 'different' or some dumb reason where she was 'not like other girls.'

But because she was, without a doubt, entirely herself.