7

It was so... normal.

I ate breakfast, made the bugs stop nibbling on their fingertips, and went to school.

And it was normal.

With the heads - and hands- of the Hydra gone, the cronies did nothing. Anyone with initiative had been weeded out long ago.

School wasn't terribly productive, I was expecting the police to sweep in and haul me off in chains, or the PRT to come bursting through the walls.

The police did come by in the afternoon, but it was a single car, no sirens, and I only knew they came at all thanks to the less than quiet rumors being harshly whispered by the various gangs in their colors. They did pay attention to things like that.

And no one in the ABB was looking at me.

It was so normal.

And I didn't understand.

---===---​

I had taken care of Oni Lee's needs with the listed instructions as per normal, and once he was done had him put me under in my favorite chair with the usual ether.

I slept, and I dreamed.

I dreamed of my mother.

She was a waitress.

She was so strong.

She was Chinese, and the people around her never let her forget it.

I remembered watching her work when I was very little. I tried to help. The plate was heavy and so hot to my hands. How did she carry them? How did she not burn herself?

"Silly Kenta," she said as she took the heavy plate from my trembling hands, "Fire cannot burn a dragon."

<"One day you'll learn them all. And when you do, help others learn them." She smiled down on me. "Then you'll make the world better."

In first grade, when we had an assignment about our parents, I wrote 'My father is a fisherman, and my mother is a dragon waitress'. I wouldn't change it, even when the teacher tried to correct me.

Thanks to my mother, I was enrolled into yarō-kabuki. Because I was so small and delicate, I got to play many of the female roles. I met Li there, an adopted orphan and he worked as a Kuroko. A long friendship would follow.

And then she died.

It was cancer, and she became so frail. So small.

We needed money, and there were few places a half-breed like me could make it quickly.

I endured.

And then, thanks to her, I triggered.

---===---​

I awoke to the smell of bacon.

I sat up and the La-Z-boy clicked into position.

"Awake?" Came the voice from the kitchen. "Good. Set the table."

I stood and stretched. The nearby clock said it was almost noon. Breakfast time for a Villain. Pretty early for me. I was usually up by two.

Time Zones. Multi-ethnic Asian gang. Parahuman turf wars. Take your pick.

I set the table for two. Lee got the regular plate, fork, spoon, and knife, and I got mine.

Mine were... sturdier. A custom - and thick - titanium plate and bowl so I wouldn't accidentally break them, and my utensils were tungsten, as they had to go into my mouth. Sometimes it got really hot in there.

Lee came out, apron over his jeans and t-shirt. The pan he was holding sizzled. "How many eggs?"

Ah, snark. You must be feeling better.

"Twenty-two. You still need two for yourself." He nodded and returned to the kitchen.

I sat at the table, at my reinforced chair.

Hardly. He's a shadow of what he once was. It comes back when he rests, but less and less of it each time.

There's so little of him now. Mostly routines, habits. I reinforce what I can, but I doubt there will be anything left of him by the end of this year.

Lee returned with the plates. Mine was filled with five times the amount as his. And there was plenty more waiting.

I typically eat one meal a day. If it's really busy, I eat half a cow and coast for a week.

We ate. It was cooked the same as always, seasoned the same as always. I had eaten this same meal for almost a year now.

It helps him. The stronger the routine the longer it takes to get... ground away. This way, if I get captured, he'll at least eat breakfast without me.

"Why?" Came the voice across the table.

I blinked.

Lee had asked me a question. Pretty rare for him to do that.

I raised an eyebrow as my mouth was full.

He was struggling to come up with the words, his face radiated curiosity, but he couldn't remember how to express it properly.

"Why did you do that?"

Good enough for me to work with. Amazing for him.

"So she would join us."

He nodded, accepting my words, before his head looked up from his food.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"How?" A second question! Marvelous!

"Because she will have to choose between what is right and what must be done. Between being a Hero of ashes, or a Villain with a tomorrow."

Things were quiet after that. I remember when it was much livelier.

Afterwards, Lee did his own dishes, as always. I just used heat to char the bits off of mine. As always.

And so, to work. It's not all fun and games as a Supervillain.