[1] Trigger Happy

I leaned against the grimy warehouse window, my thoughts drifting to the weirdest shit. You ever notice how people always say "it's raining cats and dogs" when it's pouring? Like, why those animals specifically? Why not "it's raining elephants and giraffes" or "it's raining sushi and sake"?

Fuck, now I wanted sushi.

But seriously, language is a trip. We've got all these sayings that make zero sense when you actually think about them. "Break a leg" - who the hell wishes injury on someone for good luck? It's probably some twisted theater superstition. Still, I'd rather have my leg broken than be told to "break a leg" one more time before a job.

Speaking of jobs, here I was, crouched on the second floor of this dump, about to "clean up the streets." That's what they always say in those cheesy cop shows, right? Except I wasn't exactly on the right side of the law. More like the morally ambiguous, profit-motivated side.

I chuckled to myself. "Time to take out the trash," I muttered, another cliché that actually fit the situation for once. The gang below was nothing but scum, preying on the weak and lining their pockets with blood money. Sure, I was here for the cash too, but at least I had standards. Don't hurt kids, don't traffic humans, and always pay your debts. Simple rules that apparently were too complicated for these morons.

My fingers tapped against the windowsill, little sparks of energy dancing between them. The familiar rush of power tingled through my body, ready to be unleashed. It was almost time.

"You know," I said to no one in particular, "maybe I should come up with my own catchphrase. Something like... 'Time to cash in on karma.'" I paused, cringing at how lame that sounded. "Yeah, no. I'll workshop it."

I flexed my fingers. "Let's raise the stakes," I whispered, a grin spreading across my face. It was showtime, and I was about to make it rain... justice? Nah, too corny. I was about to make it rain pain.

Damn it, that was even worse.

Whatever. I'd figure out the one-liners later. Right now, it was time to earn my payday and maybe, just maybe, make this city a tiny bit safer in the process.

Don't get me wrong - I wasn't some bleeding-heart hero type. But if I could line my pockets and take out the trash at the same time? Well, that's what I call a win-win situation.

I peered down from my perch, crimson eyes counting heads. Eight villains total. Four mutants huddled around a briefcase, probably full of cash. The other four looked regular enough, but I knew better. One of them cradled a metal case like it was his firstborn.

I adjusted my mask and tugged at my gloves. Can't be too careful these days.

"You got the goods?" one of the mutants growled. Guy had a face like a bulldog and biceps to match.

The apparent leader of the humans, a wiry man with slicked-back hair, patted the metal case. "Pure as snow and twice as cold. You got our payment?"

"Show us the merchandise first," a mutant with scales instead of skin hissed.

The wiry man clicked open the case, revealing rows of vials filled with luminescent green liquid. "Satisfied?"

Trigger. The glowing green vials were unmistakable. Just last week, I'd seen a skinny guy punch through concrete after taking that stuff. The designer drug was turning the underground into a superhuman arms race, and these idiots were playing with fire.

The mutants crowded around, eyes gleaming. The one with the canine face sniffed the air. "Smells legit."

"It better be," rumbled a third mutant, built like a brick wall with rocky protrusions jutting from his skin. "We didn't come all this way for snake oil."

The fourth mutant, sporting chitinous armor plates, chittered in agreement.

"Now, now," the wiry man's smile didn't reach his eyes, "we're all professionals here. Your turn."

Bulldog face nodded to his rocky companion, who lumbered forward with the briefcase. He flipped it open, revealing stacks of bills.

My fingers twitched. That's a lot of zeroes.

The human crew's eyes lit up. A woman with neon green hair stepped forward, hands outstretched. "Beautiful."

"Hold up," Scales interrupted. "How do we know that Trigger's the real deal?"

The wiry man's smile tightened. "You questioning our integrity?"

"In this business? Always," Bulldog growled.

I tensed, sensing the shift in atmosphere. This could get ugly fast.

The wiry man's eyes narrowed. "Fine. You want proof?" He grabbed a vial and tossed it to Scales. "On the house. Give it a try."

Scales caught it, hesitating for a moment before popping the cap and injecting it into his neck.

For a second, nothing happened. Then Scales doubled over, gasping. His skin rippled, scales growing larger, sharper. He straightened up, eyes wild, a manic grin spreading across his face.

"Oh yeah, that's the good stuff," he rasped, voice deeper than before.

I whistled under my breath. Nasty stuff, but effective. Time to crash this party.

I vaulted over the railing, landing in a crouch between the two groups. "Evening, gentlemen. Mind if I cut in?"

Eight heads whipped towards me. Confusion quickly morphed into anger.

"Who the hell are you?" Wiry demanded.

I stood, stretching casually. "Just a concerned citizen. You know, keeping the neighborhood clean and all that."

"You picked the wrong warehouse, kid," Bulldog snarled.

I cocked my head, eyes gleaming. "Wrong? Nah, I'd say this warehouse is juuust right. Goldilocks approved and everything."

The woman with green hair stepped forward, hands glowing with an eerie light. "Last chance to walk away, hero."

I laughed. "Hero? Nah, I'm just here for a good time."

Rocky cracked his knuckles. "Your funeral."

I grinned beneath my mask. "Don't be so sure about that."

Bulldog lunged first, all muscle and no finesse. I sidestepped, letting him stumble past me. As he turned, I planted a hand on his back, feeling the rush of kinetic energy flowing into me.

"Thanks for the boost," I quipped, before sending him flying with a well-placed kick.

The warehouse erupted into chaos. Green Hair shot blasts of energy at me, which I dodged, feeling the heat as they whizzed past. The fourth human, a stocky guy with a shaved head, slammed his fist into the ground. The concrete rippled like water, nearly throwing me off balance.

I cartwheeled away, narrowly avoiding Rocky's massive fist. "Ooh, earth manipulation. Neat trick!"

Chitinous charged at me, mandibles clicking furiously. I ducked under his swing, grabbing his arm and using his momentum to throw him into Green Hair. They went down in a tangle of limbs.

Wiry hung back, clutching the case of Trigger. Smart move, but not smart enough.

I focused, channeling the absorbed energy into my legs. In a burst of speed, I closed the distance between us. His eyes widened in shock as I appeared before him.

"Mind if I borrow this?" I snatched the case from his grasp.

He snarled, reaching for me, but I was already gone

.

A massive shadow loomed over me. I looked up to see Rocky, fist raised high. "Aw, shi-"

The blow caught me in the ribs, sending me flying. Pain exploded through my side as I slammed into a stack of crates. The case of Trigger skittered across the floor.

I wheezed, struggling to my feet. "Okay, that one hurt."

Scales, still high on Trigger, leapt at me with a feral roar. His claws raked across my arm, tearing through the hoodie and drawing blood.

I hissed in pain, grabbing his wrist and absorbing the enhanced kinetic energy from his attack. "Thanks for the power-up, lizard boy."

I headbutted him, hard. He staggered back, dazed.

Green Hair and Baldy were back on their feet, advancing cautiously. Chitinous circled around, trying to flank me.

I grinned, despite the throbbing in my side. "What's wrong? Scared of little old me?"

Green Hair's hands lit up again. "You talk too much."

She fired a barrage of energy blasts. I weaved through them, feeling the heat singe my clothes. One grazed my shoulder, and I bit back a cry of pain.

I closed the distance, grabbing her wrist and redirecting her next blast towards Baldy. He yelped, diving for cover.

"Friendly fire, huh?" I taunted. "Maybe work on your aim."

A chitinous arm wrapped around my throat from behind. I struggled, feeling my air supply cut off.

"Not so tough now, are you?" Chitinous hissed in my ear.

I stomped on his foot, hard. As his grip loosened, I grabbed his arm, channeling the stored energy into my elbow. I drove it back into his face with a satisfying crunch.

He stumbled away, clutching his broken mandibles.

I spun, surveying the battlefield. Bulldog was stirring, shaking off the effects of my earlier kick. Rocky lumbered towards me, each step shaking the ground.

Time to end this.

I sprinted towards Rocky, ducking under his massive swing. I placed both hands on his chest, feeling the rough texture of his skin.

"Let's see how you like a taste of your own medicine," I grinned, releasing all most of my stored energy in one massive burst.

Rocky flew backward, crashing through the warehouse wall and leaving a boulder-shaped hole.

I turned to face the remaining villains, black and red sparks crackling around my body. "Anyone else want to dance?"

Wiry, who'd been hanging back, suddenly produced a gun. "Enough of this!"

The gunshot rang out, and I felt a searing pain in my thigh. I stumbled, nearly falling.

"Not so cocky now, are you?" Wiry sneered, advancing with the gun trained on me.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stand straight. "You call that a shot? My grandma hits harder than that."

His face contorted with rage. He fired again, but this time I was ready. I dodged, the bullet whizzing past my ear.

In a burst of speed, I closed the distance between us. His eyes widened in shock as I appeared before him, my hand on the gun.

"Bang," I whispered, absorbing the energy from the weapon and channeling it back into the gun itself.

The weapon exploded in his hand. He screamed, stumbling back and clutching his injured fingers.

I swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor.

The remaining villains looked at each other, then at me. I could see the fight leaving their eyes.

"So," I said casually, despite the pain radiating from my leg and ribs, "who wants to be next?"

They broke, scrambling for the exits. But I wasn't done yet.

I zipped around the warehouse, taking them down one by one. A chop to the neck here, a well-placed kick there. Within moments, all eight villains were laid out on the floor, groaning or unconscious.

I limped over to the briefcase of cash, flipping it open. My eyes widened at the amount inside. It was tempting, so tempting, to take it all. But I'm not stupid.

I grabbed about 20% of the cash, stuffing it into my pockets. Enough to make it worth my while, not enough to raise suspicions.

Using zip ties I'd brought along (always be prepared), I secured the villains. Then I grabbed one of their phones, dialing the police.

"Hello, police?" I mimicked a panicked civilian voice. "There's been some kind of fight at the old warehouse on Main. I saw villains and some guy in a hoodie. There's a hole in the wall! Please hurry!"

I hung up, tossing the phone beside its unconscious owner.

As sirens began to wail in the distance, I made my way to the exit, limping slightly. I paused at the door, looking back at the scene of destruction.

"Thanks for the workout, boys and girls," I called out to the groaning villains. "We should do this again sometime. Maybe next time you'll actually be a challenge."

{45 Minutes later}

I limped my way up the stairs to our apartment in Atami, each step sending a jolt of pain through my thigh. The cash in my pocket felt heavier with every floor.

"Please be at work, please be at work," I muttered under my breath as I reached our door.

I turned the key, holding my breath as I pushed it open. Silence greeted me. No clicking of laptop keys, no rustling of papers, no exasperated sighs that were practically Noel's catchphrase these days.

"Thank fuck," I breathed, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it for a moment.

I made my way to my room, shedding clothes as I went. The hoodie was a lost cause, slashed and singed beyond repair. I stuffed everything into the duffel bag I kept hidden in my closet, buried under a stack of magazines that would make any self-respecting teenager proud.

"Sorry, ladies," I muttered to the glossy covers as I shoved the bag back into place. "You're taking one for the team."

Grabbing some clean clothes, I hobbled to the bathroom, locking the door behind me out of habit. Noel wasn't home, but better safe than sorry.

I peeled off the rest of my clothes, wincing as dried blood pulled at the wound on my thigh. It wasn't deep, just a graze, but it stung like a bitch.

The mirror revealed a canvas of forming bruises, splashes of purple and blue across my ribs and back. The guy with the rock quirk had packed one hell of a punch.

"Gonna be feeling that one for a while," I grumbled, prodding at my side and immediately regretting it.

I stepped into the shower, hissing as hot water hit my injuries. But as the water ran over me, I felt the familiar tingle of my quirk kicking in, absorbing the kinetic energy from the droplets. It wasn't much, but every little bit helped speed up the healing process.

By the time I stepped out, the pain had dulled to a manageable ache. I dried off and pulled on my clothes, careful not to aggravate the wound on my thigh.

Back at the mirror, I examined my reflection. The bruises were already fading slightly, turning a sickly yellow-green at the edges. Give it a few days, and they'd be gone completely.

"Just gotta keep Noel from seeing for a bit," I told my reflection. "No problem. Piece of cake."

My reflection didn't look convinced.

I ran a hand through my damp white hair, pushing it back from my face. My red eyes stared back at me, bright with leftover adrenaline and something else. Something hungry.

I grinned, feeling the weight of the cash in my discarded pants.

"Not a bad night's work, Akira," I said to myself. "Not bad at all."

As I left the bathroom, my phone buzzed. A message from Noel.

"Working late tonight. Don't wait up. There's leftovers in the fridge. - Noel"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Always looking out for me, sis. Even when you're not here."

I headed to the kitchen, suddenly aware of the gnawing hunger in my stomach. Fighting villains really worked up an appetite.

As I reheated the leftovers, my mind wandered back to the warehouse. The rush of the fight, the thrill of outwitting those villains, the satisfaction of walking away with a pocket full of cash.

It was addictive.

But as I sat down to eat, a nagging thought crept in. How long could I keep this up? How long before Noel caught on, or worse, before I bit off more than I could chew?

I pushed the thought away, focusing on my food. That was a problem for future Akira. Right now, I had a full stomach, a healing body, and a successful night behind me.

Tomorrow... well, tomorrow was another day.