Archive of Our Own

Balefire’s feet nimbly skimmed across the surface of the night sea. With quick flicks of her fingers, she hurled fireballs at the sprightly figure in front of her. Tachythanatous, the assassin she was chasing, flung out shadow ribbons to gobble up her fire. He abruptly did a U-turn and Bale skidded to a halt.

“Nemesis, I wasn’t doing anything!” Tach whined as he bolted past Bale. After a couple months of dealing with the edgy teenage supervillain, Bale had learned there was nothing Tach loved more than a bit. She didn’t need to chase him when he was talking since he was always within hearing distance. 

Bale glanced at her boots. The glowing bars indicated she had 50% of her super speed quota left. She willed the display to turn off and spun towards Tach.

“Yeah, sure.”

“I just wanted to get takoyaki!” Tach whined. “I’m not on official business tonight.” He switched on the light attached to his anglerfish-inspired helmet. It dangled back and forth in time with his movements. 

Bale knew part of that wasn’t a lie. She’d been anticipating a nice, uneventful evening when Tach was spotted at a food market. As the only hero speedster, it was her duty to arrest him for the crimes of first degree murder. Tach, upon seeing her, immediately sprinted to the sea. And so they ended up in another cat-and-mouse chase on water, both of them straying further and further away from the coastline. Typical of them. (Fishermen would sigh and pray their boats weren't caught in the crossfire.)

“Do you like takoyaki?”

“Would you poison me if I said I was allergic to octopus?” Bale replied drily. As a recent graduate of Freth Superhero Academy, she’d been taught not to reveal anything to villains. However, Tach was not a conventional villain. Carrying out a conversation with him could lower his guard, so it was in Bale’s interest to humour him. Obviously, she didn’t trust him one bit, but this was the only tactic she could think of. 

“Yeah, of course, ‘cause I’m evil and the worst person to ever exist,” Tach said breezily.

This was how their average conversation went. Tach would ask her about something mundane, Bale would give a snarky or a non-committal reply, and Tach would pepper in how evil/cool/edgy/depressed/villainous he was. He was completely insufferable. He was also sleep deprived, learned how to read from Twitter, didn’t know what a popsicle was, obsessed with My Chemical Romance, used Comic Sans on his blog, and most heinous of all, mained Bale’s least favourite girl in a rhythm game. Bale learned a painful amount of unnecessary information because he wouldn’t stop monologuing. Yet, the main questions about him remained unanswered:

One, where did his powers of shadow manipulation and speed come from? 

(Tach claimed he was “an agent of darkness” “the evilest evil” “death personified” on different occasions, so maybe he just had issues. Except he genuinely had powers no one had seen before.)

Two, how old was he? 

(From the way he acted, he couldn’t be older than fifteen. He was shorter than her and wore platform boots.) 

Three, what the fuck was wrong with him?

Bale pounced on him, flames in hand. Tach jumped away and shaped his shadows into… was that a giant cheese grater? His grater repelled Bale’s flames. “Aww, no fun, I thought it would shred them!” Tach complained.

Even though she hadn’t done anything, Bale was smug that Tach was disappointed. “Just because it looks like a grater doesn’t mean it’s a grater.”

Tach scoffed and drew out a shadow sword from behind his back. “Hah! Feast your eyes on my secret weapon! This looks like a sword and it is a sword!”

Bale pulled out her own flaming blade to counter his. “Is that a shoddy imitation of Sentinel’s sword?”

Tach’s light flashed yellow. “Oh hey, you recognised that!” He sounded genuinely excited, which was one of the many things wrong with him. 

They danced around each other for a while. Tach summoned shadows shaped like bats, nunchucks, palm tree leaves, and at one point duelled her with a shadow candelabra. Bale, as a classically trained hero, went for the efficient fireballs. 

“Why don’t you follow me on Twitter?” Tach was complaining, using his shadow tendrils to juggle shadow shards. “I post updates on when I’ve killed people. And I show off my gacha pulls. Hey, what are your thoughts on the next banner?”

“I am not using my official hero account to follow a supervillain,” Bale deadpanned. She dodged the shards with ease. “Next banner is a skip. Mid outfits. I’m saving up for the fairy set rerun.”

“Yeah, that’s the meta, but they said— OW!”

Bale’s fireball smacked into his helmet. Hoping he was disoriented, she reached for his hands, but he leaped away. Bale let out a frustrated huff. This guy was unbelievably slippery. He couldn’t be drugged, couldn’t be shot by tranquilizer darts, and even when he was hit, he was still fast enough to evade capture. She’d never touched him. Tach spun and shadow tendrils burst from underneath his cape. Bale elegantly swerved away. 

“Why do you wear capes? It’s ugly,” she told him bluntly.

“You mean they add to my,” Tach posed, “fabulous aura of mystique?” 

“No, you look like a trash bag.”

“Do you ever feel like a plastic bag drifting through the wind?” Tach sang as he snuffed out Bale’s fireballs to the beat.

Bale checked her boots. 30% left. They were a fair distance away from the mainland, so she should retreat now. Tach noticed when she stopped attacking.

“You going back?”

Bale refused to give him information, but it felt rude to depart without a word. Usually it was Tach who got bored of her and ran away. 

“Okay, byeeee neme—”

A splash. Bale instinctively propelled herself into the air. Below her, the jaws of a Spinesnapper Mutant clamped down on thin air. She shot at it, but it had already ducked below the surface. Was she slow, or was the Spinesnapper unusually fast?

Bale barely had a second to breathe when another Spinesnapper lunged at her, tongue out. Bale brusquely sliced the tongue off, but again it vanished into the water. Even though light attracted attention, Bale summoned a fireball for visibility. Heart pounding, her eyes danced around the rippling water.

Spinesnapper Mutants, or Snappers as they were frequently called, were a type of marine Mutant. They were deadly silent and able to camouflage themselves when they came close to the water surface. They were named for their huge jaws and were notorious for swallowing their prey whole. Like a frog, they had a long tongue that snatched up unsuspecting victims. Other than dealing with/chasing down/tolerating Tach, killing Snappers was Bale’s main job.

But the Snappers tonight were different. For once, their jaws were larger. Bale’s brain weighed her priorities. She should report this to her superiors, but she should get to a safe location first, and—

Bale moved to the left, and a Snapper crashed into her side. Bale’s vision spun and static exploded in her ears. She was physically fine, just bruised, but if she’d reacted a split second later, the Snapper would’ve swallowed her. She hurriedly smacked her helmet, hoping the static would stop. 

Fuck. Were her comms down?

Bale spun and aimed a fireball down the mouth of a Snapper. A tongue wrapped around her leg and she chopped it off. Multiple Snappers were attacking her, all of them the variant she hadn’t seen before. “Hello?” Bale yelled into her communicator. “It's Balefire! Weird Snappers here! My coords are—”

Oh hell, she didn’t have time to check her coordinates. They had trackers on her anyway, assuming they hadn’t been damaged. Bale gritted her teeth and shot more Snappers. They were extraordinarily quick and she was rapidly burning through her quota. The low, monotonous hum of static continued, no hint of a voice, and panic bubbled inside Bale. 

She could run. She should run. But these Mutants were fast enough to track her, so she had to fight them sooner or later. Besides, it was irresponsible to bring them back to the city. Even though she was on her own, she could do it. She could kill them all. It was what she was good at.

Fire and explosions. The rancid breath of Mutants and the metallic tang of blood. Her braincells were firing off at rapid speeds, ensuring her reflexes were top notch. Bale panted and tugged her fireballs close. Bale squinted at the rippling water, now swirling with dark red. 

It was quiet. 

That wasn’t right. Snappers could be quiet, but it wasn’t just the Snappers here, because there was a certain person who loved making noise—

Bale scanned the area, heart beating fast from exertion. No sign of Tach anywhere. He probably fled the scene. Not like Bale needed to track him since she knew he lived at Mirage’s base (and she was forbidden to go there). 

Right. Nemesis gone. Snappers dead. Comms down. Time for Bale to return. 

A noise caught her attention. She spun to see a Snapper pop out from underneath the surface, but this time, its jaw was clamped shut. It stayed there for a few seconds, seemingly not noticing Bale. Bale noticed dark blood trickling down its mouth. 

The Snapper growled and writhed. Bale cautiously moved away and armed herself. It suddenly leaped into the air, then fell back with a splash. It continued to violently flop around. 

Bale’s usual tactic of blasting its insides wouldn’t work. However, this Snapper was near the surface. If she was fast enough, she could use her fire blade to slice its skin before it fell into the water again. Bale willed energy into her boots and prepared to strike.

The Snapper leaped, and Bale pounced. Her blade drew a line across its body and she rapidly moved it back and forth. She sensed the blade sinking in, then something pushed back—

The Snapper’s guts spilled out. Bale was confused because she didn’t think she was that strong, but all celebratory thoughts vanished when she saw a black mass fall from the Snapper’s stomach. A black mass that was suspiciously human-shaped. 

The Snapper shrieked and Bale blasted it away without looking. A motionless Tach was floating in the water, so Bale swept down and grabbed his wrists. He did not escape. He did not even fight. He just coughed weakly, telling her he was alive— for now. His shadows gently pooled around him, repelling acid and gory bits of the Snapper. Bale held her breath against the stench and towed him away.

“Are you— are you hurt?” Bale stuttered, flabbergasted by the chain of events. She couldn’t tell if the blood was his or the Mutant’s. She lifted him out of the water and was astonished (and relieved) to see his suit was intact. No lost limbs, no open wounds, just a torn cape and snapped dangly light. Of course he could be bleeding inside his suit, but she had no way of knowing. His chestplate was intact, so nothing had punctuated his vital organs. Awkwardly, her fingers fumbled for his helmet, then she realised she had no idea how to take it off.

“Are you bleeding? Are you hurt?” she asked again. No response. He was violently trembling and so were his shadows, so some part of him was awake. Bale had no time to hesitate. She flung Tach over her shoulder, secured his legs with her left hand, summoned a fireball with her right hand, and made a beeline for home. 

Did he just get eaten by a Mutant? And did she just manage to catch the enemy? 

Bale dug through her panicked brain for a coherent line of thought. Okay, Tach got swallowed by a Snapper. A weird, abnormally large Snapper. And now the untouchable enemy was in her hands; not moving, let alone resisting. Her comms were dead, her boots were running out of energy, so the only thing she could do was run and hope they wouldn’t bump into Mutants. HQ would take Tach— and then what? Send him to the hospital? Now Bale realised she hadn’t thought about what would happen once she captured Tach. It had been such an impossible, faraway goal. People told her she had to hunt him down, and she didn’t ask questions.

How did Tach get eaten? The Snappers were unusually strong, but Tach was better than her at dodging. Was he tired after their sparring from earlier? Was this the consequence of two overconfident kids duelling at a Mutant-infested sea, acting like they were above it all?

A sob by her ear. Tach’s shivering was getting worse by the second. His breathing came out in short, hurried pants. The unpleasant recognition dawned on Bale. Her stomach churned.

Tach was having a panic attack.

He could very well be faking it, but it felt too real to be fake. If Tach truly wanted to escape, he could. Also, Bale thought if she was a kid with no official training and was swallowed alive, she would also be having a panic attack.

Bale had no idea what to say. Nobody taught her what to do when her teenage nemesis was crying on her shoulder. This was upsetting and suspicious at the same time. Could he be preying on her kindness?

“Did you break any bones? Are you bleeding?”

He did not reply. Maybe he wasn’t capable of replying. Her stomach felt heavy, or perhaps it was just his weight on her back. Bale thought he would appreciate it if she told him what was going on.

“Okay,” she said, voice loud and clear. “Tach, listen to me. I’m arresting you and taking you back to the city. They’ll patch you up and keep you in custody. You will be able to contact your family and lawyers from there.”

No response. Bale was getting worried, then he coughed, body trembling with effort. 

“…Are you taking me to the afterlife?” His voice was meek, uncharacteristically so. 

“No. You’re going to jail,” Bale answered shortly.

“Bale…fire?”

“Yes, it’s your nemesis. You’re out of that Mutant’s stomach now. Are you hurt?”

“No. Not saying. I’ll be—” Tach sniffed, “ex-exposing my weaknesses.” A pause. “Not that it matters. I’m dead.”

Alright, he was awake enough to talk. He was understandably disoriented. Bale wanted to keep him conscious so she had to keep the conversation going.

Tach’s head rested against the crook of her neck. He suddenly sneezed. She wondered if he was cold. 

“Tach, you loathe me. Why would I be in your afterlife? You’re definitely alive.” She held back the “as of now”. 

“That’s ‘cause I’m going to hell, and you’re in my hell,” Tach slurred. “It’s where I get reincarnated as a cockroach. The evil flying kind that everyone hates. Or maybe I’ll be a lab rat. I hate lab rats.”

Bale wasn’t the type to overanalyse, but her brain was trained to pounce on every scrap tumbling out of his unfiltered mouth. It was a common theory that Tach was created in a lab due to the uniqueness of his powers. Maybe the villains had a freaky lab where they experimented on people. 

“You’re not going to get reincarnated because you’re alive.”

“But I did get reincarnated before.”

Tach was sprouting nonsense. Maybe he sustained brain damage, maybe this was his standard brand of weirdness. Or maybe this was him being a chuunibyou. Either way, she had to keep him talking.

“Yeah? What did you reincarnate into?”

“A human,” Tach whimpered. 

“How does being a human feel? Is it fun? You look like you’re having fun.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have said that because it sounded sarcastic, but she meant it. 

Tach didn’t say anything. At least he was audibly sniffing less. Bale checked her glow-in-the-dark compass to make sure she was going in the right direction. She willed energy to trickle into her weary muscles. 

“... I feel weird.”

“Yeah, I know, and for once, it’s not your fault. Being swallowed by a Mutant is some traumatic shit.”

“I feel really weird,” he mumbled. “Like… like…”

He trailed off. “Mhmm?” Bale prompted if only to keep him thinking.

“Like it’s not natural. I c-can’t move.” Tach’s leg weakly shifted, but it stopped and continued shaking. “I can’t move.”

“It’s alright,” Bale said, although that probably had the opposite effect. “You don’t need to fight.” Bale didn’t know if her tone ended up being gentle or patronising. 

I can’t move. Jagged memories from years ago slipped into her mind’s eye, and her body remembered it like it was yesterday. Her mom’s screams, the grotesque Mutant, and most vividly of all, the way her body completely froze as it had been seized by an invisible fist. It squeezed all resistance out of her puny body. It was as if a fundamental instinct had snapped shut. They told her it was a natural reaction to trauma. Bale thought it was cowardice. Because how could she stay still when her own mother was dying? Losing a fight was something. Being frozen in fear was another, because she couldn’t lose a fight she didn’t participate in.

Bale’s heart sank to the pits of her stomach. Her facial muscles tensed and rearranged her lips into a scowl. Now she was in an awful mood. Tach held back a sob, and she was reminded she was responsible for him.

“It’s the freeze instinct.” Her voice was cold, callous even. It was trauma, the chemicals in your brain, the limitations of the human body. It was her weakness. It was her fault. “The Mutants sometimes do that to you.”

“No, they don’t,” Tach mumbled. “Not to us. ‘Cause we’re fast. We’re always moving. We don’t just—“ he sniffed, “stop.”

Bale heavily disliked the use of “us” but she wasn’t going to nitpick the rambles of a panicked kid. It had been a mistake to think about her mom and her grievances was spilling from her. She didn’t want to accidentally aggravate Tach, and he seemed conscious so far, so she stayed silent and focused on moving. 

Tach’s sobs gradually died down, the silence broken by an occasional sniffle. Bale hated how far they’d strayed from the mainland. She only used super speed in spurts as not to overexert herself. There was a tremble in her hand, and it could be due to residual fear or low blood sugar. She still had water, but she ran out of food. Maybe she should’ve had takoyaki at the food market. Damn. 

“Are you hurt?” she asked again, remembering he didn’t answer.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I know you don’t trust me, but this is for your own good. I wasn’t asked to bring you back dead.”

Tach sniffed. “You should kill me first then.”

That ungrateful little— Bale held back a sharp retort. She might be moody, but he was recovering from a near death experience. She had to be the bigger person here. 

“It’s fine if you don’t tell me. Anyways, once we’re back, I’ll take you to the hospi—“

Tach screamed and violently thrashed. His leg smacked into her helmet, she dropped him, and he tumbled into the sea. 

“Get AWAY from me!” he demanded, spitting saltwater from his mouth. Bale ducked to avoid a shadow tendril pummelling into her head. Tach’s limbs wildly flailed and Bale instantly scanned the area for Mutant activity. Her first thought was to berate him for attracting attention, but she understood he wasn’t acting logically. The mention of hospitals had triggered him for some reason. Her first priority should be calming him down. 

A shadow shard snuffed out her fireball, plunging them in darkness. Bale hastily conjured another one and struggled to find Tach in the disarray of shadows and splashes. 

“I’m trying to help!” she yelled. She extended a hand, but had to snatch it back when another tendril slashed towards her. 

Tach was frantically paddling away, but he was barely moving. Bale was worried he was going to drown. 

“No hospitals! You’re not going anywhere near them!” Bale yelled over the din. “I’m— I— I don’t like hospitals too! They’re cold! And they smell weird!”

Bale gritted her teeth, thought “fuck it”, and bravely dove into the shadows. A shadow spike barrelled towards her and flames erupted from her hand. The spike wavered, as if scared of her. She took the split second opportunity to grab Tach’s helmet and dragged his head above surface. He spluttered and gasped for breath. 

“Get— away—“ he panted. 

Bale’s arms became numb from shadows twirling up them, but she could tell this wasn’t a real effort to stop her. His movements were sloppy and instinctive. 

“No, I’m not taking you to the hospital and no, you are not dying,” Bale told him firmly. “I’ll make sure of it. You’re not going anywhere without me.”

Tach seemed to relent. His shadows deflated and splintered off into nothing. He hacked out coughs. One, two, then a stream of vomit exploded from his mouth. Bale, unaffected, held him steady. 

“Are they back?” he whimpered.

Bale was going to lie to him either way, but she took a look around all the same. “The Mutants are gone.”

“Not the Mutants,” he mumbled, which didn’t sound cryptic at all. 

“Tach, I’m taking you to the mainland, okay? Mutants can’t hurt us there. And I’m not taking you to the hospital.”

“You’re not?”

“No, I’m immediately throwing you in a jail cell,” Bale told him patiently. “You know, tiny jail cells? Iron bars? Can't get out and can’t get in? With a bed and food? Maybe a TV if you behave? And guards to make sure no one gets hurt?”

“… And you’ll leave me alone?”

God, he sounded miserable. What was a child doing out here anyway? Bale knew that patronising him and being nice would only raise his suspicions. So, in order to be kind, she had to act unkind. 

“Don’t be silly,” she chastised him. “I’m your nemesis! I can’t leave you to your own devices. It’s my duty to check in with you.” She paused for breath, then continued, “I’m doing this because I hate you and I want to defeat you one day. But it has to be a fair defeat, y’know? Nothing honourable about fighting you in this state. So,” she rambled on, not knowing what the fuck she was talking about, “you’re going to get better.” 

No response from him. Tach slumped, broken light flopping in front of his face. And for just a moment, the world was quiet.

“Can I pick you up?” Bale asked, hoping he wouldn’t lash out again. 

They heard it at the same time. Bale moved faster. She lifted Tach out of the water, but the Spinesnapper’s jaw clamped shut on Tach’s cape. Bale struggled to keep Tach from falling. 

“Shoot it!” Bale demanded.

Tach, who jolted awake, shaped a shadow shard and flung it at the Mutant’s head. Curiously, Bale saw the shard hit its target, but nothing happened. Tach’s shadows hurt all living creatures. Or maybe he had missed. She could barely see.

Tach lurched lower, and they both screamed. His leg was dangerously close to the Mutant’s jaw. Tach hastily summoned a jagged shard and flung it underneath him. It severed his cape and the rebounding force nearly sent Bale flying. Bale willed power trickle into her boots and she shot upwards. Predictably, a familiar wave of lightheadedness flooded her head. Tach grabbed onto Bale’s arms for dear life. 

“Get on my back!” she hollered. “I need my hands!”

With maneuvering skills that they didn’t know they had, Bale and Tach shifted him onto her back. Tach locked his arms around Bale and used his shadows to adhere him into place. Bale wobbled mid-air, unused to the sudden shift in balance. It felt weird that she didn’t have to use her arms to hold his legs. Bale pulled the fireball closer and struggled to aim. 

“Where is it?” she demanded. “Can you see?” Tach had better night vision. They were in a disadvantaged position because she needed light to attack, and hence the Mutant knew exactly where they were.

Tach was panting. “Alpha Bravo Charlie Delta Echo Foxtrot—“

“Uh—“

“— Golf Hotel India Juliet Kilo—“ Tach kept rambling, faster and faster, words slurring. 

This was it. They were going to die with her screaming and him reciting the goddamn phonetic alphabet. Bale frantically looked around, but the Mutant had sunk underwater. 

“UP!” Tach suddenly cried, and Bale’s body obeyed before she could think. The Mutant’s jaw missed her feet by a few inches, and Bale winced at its sour breath. Bale tried to shoot, but she was a split second late. The Mutant sunk again. Bale bit her lip, frustrated. 

“You there? I need a clean shot in its mouth. You have to warn me.”

Tach ignored her, and his voice became more and more high pitched. “Lima Mike Novem-vember Os-oscar Pa—“ His speech was overtaken by sniffs and barely-restrained sobs. 

It was then she felt something cold tickle her neck. She glanced down to see a mass of writhing shadows enveloping Tach’s arms. Her blood chilled. He was losing control. 

“We need to work together to kill that thing. We can do it.” She held back a “we have to do it”.

Worrying enough, Tach was quiet. He wasn’t even reciting the alphabet. “Tach?” No reply. 

Bale pushed herself up, boots shaking with effort. Her stomach rose to her throat and she struggled against the dizziness. Her trembling fingers cradled her fireball and willed it bigger. Then came the worst part— the wait. 

A tug on her arm. Bale watched in morbid fascination as a thin shadow tendril twirled around her right arm and guided it an inch to the right. It paused, then pulled her slightly to the left. 

Blood pounded in her ears. Bale didn’t dare to breathe. She was so stressed that she couldn’t spare a moment to give herself a mental pep talk. Tach’s shadow tendril, for the first time, was a comfort. Even if Tach was losing consciousness, his body instinctively reacted to threats. Normally, she would never trust him, but when forced into a life-or-death situation, there was no way they weren’t on the same page.

It happened so fast that Bale’s mind couldn’t comprehend it. She heard a noise, Tach’s grip tightened, she released, then she saw a monstrous figure illuminated by her fire. Her fireball vanished down its mouth. The Spinesnapper roared in agony as the fire burnt its insides, flames sputtering out of its mouth. The heat warmed her face, a welcome sensation in contrast to the coldness on her neck. 

They had to have hit the Snapper. Even if it wasn’t dead, it was heavily wounded. A disoriented Bale glanced at the compass on her wrist and sped towards the mainland. She didn't dare to create a light source. She hoped they’d killed all the Mutants.

“Tach!” she hissed. “It’s down!”

On a subconscious level, Tach must’ve sensed the danger was over, because his tendril retreated from her arm. 

“Quebec Romeo Sierra…?” she tried. 

The shadows thickened, pressing down on her, and Bale bit back a surprised gasp. Great, she’d saved them both, and her reward was him strangling her. More shadows criss-crossed her torso to bind them together. What was he, a shadow parasite? What had she gotten herself into?

Bale was reminded of the fable of the scorpion and the frog. Here she was, carrying them to safety, and Tach was trying to strangle her. It wasn’t in his self-interest to hurt her. Not at this specific moment. He was losing control and that equated to self-sabotage. 

A shadow tendril snaked around her leg, numbing her flesh through the armour. Bale struggled to shake off the feeling. “Tach, I need to move. Or else those things are going to attack us again,” she hissed.

He didn’t relent. Bale powered through, but she was getting more sluggish. Tach seemed to feel heavier by the second.

“Please speak to me if you’re here.”

No response. Nothing, not a cry or a whimper or a cough. Physically and mentally exhausted, Bale stopped to drink the last of her water. She nearly dropped the bottle and cursed her vulnerability. 

Maybe at this point, someone would be suspicious that she wasn’t back. Maybe someone was searching for her. Or, more likely, they trusted her to handle herself because she was a fully fledged hero. It was a dangerous and cruel world, and she didn’t expect to be coddled.

“... I wanna go home,” Tach whimpered, voice tinier than she’d ever heard it.

Bale turned to the head nestled on her shoulder. He was still motionless and defenceless. She had her suspicions that his irreverent bravado was just a facade. Bale could easily toss him into the sea and eliminate the threat forever, but that wasn’t ever an option. Something had destabilised Tach so much that he was now openly weeping in his nemesis’ arms. Something had struck him to the core and eroded his defences enough that he was begging to go home. 

Something fundamentally terrified him, the boy who could run away from everything. 

Lights appeared in the distance. The hairs on Bale’s neck stood up. Part of her hoped it was backup on her side, but she was also smart enough to remember her comms were down. People swarmed towards her, the ferocity reminding her of a tidal wave. Her eyes widened. 

It was the villains. Specifically, Mirage and his cronies. 

Shit.

Bale willed herself to move faster, but nausea surged from her stomach. She hated to admit it, but she was at her limit. During her chases with Tach, she normally kept a reserve of energy in case things went wrong. Well, now, she’d used that reserve to escape from the Mutants. She had nothing left to use. The dead buzz of static in her helmet was a grim reminder she was truly alone. 

Mirage wasn’t visibly armed, but he didn’t need a weapon. Information helpfully slithered into her brain— Mirage was a matter manipulator that specialised in illusions. He disoriented enemies by creating images from fine sand particles. So everything she saw now could be a lie.

Bale glanced suspiciously at Mirage’s three companions. She recognised Panther and Blackrain, but there was a mysterious figure next to Mirage. They were dressed in basic gear, nothing flashy and gimmicky. Bale believed they were a civilian or a villain hiding their identity.

“Good evening. Give him back,” was Mirage’s short and direct order. None of the flair his faction was known for. “We come in peace. We just want him.”

Bale scowled. She didn’t want to talk to Mirage (was it hero protocol, or was she running away like a coward?). She faked a move and dashed to the other side. Immediately, Blackrain raised towering waves to block her. 

“One move and I’ll drop this over you,” he warned. “You’re not fast enough to escape.” It wasn’t a question. Like it was a known fact that she was weak.

“You’re bluffing,” Bale retorted even if it was stupid. She hated how young her voice sounded. “You’ll drown him too.”

“We’re at sea, young lady,” Blackrain drawled. “This is our territory, not yours. And you don’t have the energy to run away. You’re at our mercy.”

Mirage raised a hand. “I said no fighting,” he warned Blackrain. Mirage’s voice was quiet but powerful. Something inside Bale trembled, but she wrestled to control herself. 

“Give him back,” Mirage addressed Bale. “We’re not here to fight. We won’t hurt you.”

Bale’s mouth felt dry. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I have to arrest him.”

“Awww, baby cop. How cute,” Panther cheerfully drawled. Bale bristled at her patronising tone.

“You would understand,” Mirage said carefully, “that we aren’t doing anything wrong here. One of us is hurt. We want him back. It’s the same way you so-called heroes protect each other. Why won’t you let us save him?”

“He is a danger to Freth and it is my duty to serve the city.”

Mirage raised a hand, and Bale braced for combat—

Only to hear a sharp crackle of static in her ear before it resumed its low hum. 

“We cut off your comms,” Mirage announced. A chill went down her spine even though her comms were already gone. “You don’t have to be conscious of whoever’s listening in. Say whatever you want.”

“Th—that’s not how you negotiate!” Bale spluttered out. “You threatened me! I can’t contact my people, so you can do whatever you want—“

“On the contrary, this is exactly how you negotiate.” Mirage spread out his hands, palms up, unarmed. “I just gave you the freedom of speech, Balefire. No need to parrot meaningless declarations of loyalty.”

“It is my duty to—“

“Oh, fuck your duty.” Mirage didn’t sound angry, just dismissive and almost bored. Bale flinched at the disrespect. Typical villain behaviour. “No one’s listening. You’re your own person. What do you actually want to do at this moment?”

“There’s a reason why we’re talking and not fighting,” Panther piped up.

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious you don’t want Tach in the crossfire,” Bale snarked.

“No, it’s because we believe you can be reasoned with and we respect your agency.”

Bale didn’t like this at all. Underneath her fancy costume, she was merely a foolish child thrust into the adult world of negotiating.

Mirage maneuvered around his companions and touched each of them on the shoulder. “They’re all real. If I wanted to threaten you, I would make illusions. None of us have attacked you.”

Bale could see his logic, but it was incredibly suspicious that an infamous villain went for a pacifist route. Bale was also aware the villains had the upper hand. She was tired, out of power, and worst of all, had no way of calling backup. This was a one versus four she couldn’t escape from, let alone win. 

Tach sniffed. She could feel him shaking. A sliver of guilt trickled from her heart to her stomach. 

“Why did you save him?” Mirage’s tone was softer now. Logic told her to be wary, but secretly she was relieved he was no longer ordering her. 

“It’s— it’s not my job to let people die—“

“Answer the question without mentioning your job. And reverse your statement.”

What was this, being berated by a teacher she didn’t ask for? She wanted to protest that Mirage had no authority over her, but the burden on her back felt heavier by the minute. And there was a part of her, the egotistic, childish part of her, that wanted to justify her existence. Even if it was to people who didn’t respect her line of work. 

Bale swallowed. “I want to save people.”

There was nothing controversial about what she had said. This was the core value that all hero teachings circled around. It was universal and undebatable. Yet, why did that simple statement ring alarm bells in her head? Was it wrong to save bad people? Who had the right to decide who was good and bad? 

“That’s better. Give us Tach, and you’ll save him. It’s as simple as that. We’re not snitches. No one will ever know you let him go.”

Well. Willingly giving up a criminal (okay, technically a suspect) was obviously illegal. And considering Tach was a supervillain who ranked high on HQ’s Wanted list, this was treason.

To avoid spiralling into an abyss of panic and guilt, Bale forced her brain to explore logical options. The only feasible way for her to return to HQ with Tach was if the villains somehow let her go without a fight. Bale knew she didn’t have enough energy to escape from all four of them. The villains definitely wouldn’t leave without Tach, however they weren’t hurting Bale because she was carrying him. And of course the Mutants could pose a threat. A few normal Snappers would stretch her to the limit, let alone the type that she and Tach escaped from by the skin of their teeth. Not to mention that Bale was completely drained of her resources. Sure, her suit was functioning and she knew the way back. But she couldn’t keep up the stalemate forever. 

Bale couldn’t even be proud of her rational analysis because of her quickening heartbeat. Tach was quivering on her back, reminding her of a wounded animal. His words echoed in her ears again and again— “I wanna go home”. Home. The villains wanted to take him home. He wanted to go home. Bale wanted to go home. Home. He couldn’t move. He was caught. He was swallowed alive. He survived being swallowed alive. He was crying. Fighting a Mutant, blood and acid and paralyzing fear and regret and trauma and guilt, the memories flying past faster and faster, screams and tears and vomit and—

Because that was a speedster’s greatest fear, wasn’t it? Being unable to move. Being unable to dodge and escape and run. Being rooted to the ground, exposed and vulnerable and utterly useless.

She could’ve been his age when her mom was killed. 

It could’ve been her. It had been her, in fact. 

The static continued its mundane hum, a strange but comforting constant amidst the storm of Bale’s dilemma. 

“Okay,” Bale finally said, her lips dry. “You can have him. On the condition that you do not harm me.”

Perhaps someone more savvy would’ve negotiated for more. Bale wasn’t exactly scared of Mirage, but she knew her limits. She was a seventeen-year-old, and while she was respected for her abilities, her actual experience was paltry. And deep down, she knew the villains were playing nice.  It would’ve been easy for Mirage to confuse and tire her out, easy for them to knock her out, easy for them to kill her, even. Mirage cutting off her comms was sketchy, but interestingly enough, he didn’t do that when they first started speaking. From Mirage’s point of view, Bale could’ve definitely notified her superiors. 

“Deal,” was Mirage’s smooth reply. “We will ensure you have a safe journey back to the mainland.”

Bale turned off her fireballs as a sign of goodwill. She reached for Tach’s arms, currently locked around her neck. Bale tried to tug his arms apart, but he wouldn’t budge. The shadows chilled her fingers and she shuddered. 

“Uhhh, you can get off now?” she tried, hesitant. “Mirage is here to pick you up…?”

Mirage and the mystery guy floated closer, and Bale’s heart rate skyrocketed. She increased her strength, but Tach’s limbs stubbornly stayed around her neck. Shadows spilled from his body to wrap around hers. It wasn’t cute; it was borderline suffocating. And bitterly cold. 

Bale’s breath hitched. “I’m not— I’m trying to get him off—“

“I know, I know, don’t panic,” was Mirage’s dry reply. It had the opposite effect of calming her. 

“Why is he clinging onto me?” Bale shrieked. She panicked because firstly, the shadows were unpleasant and frigid, and secondly, she didn’t want the villains to think she wasn’t honouring their deal. 

“It’s just a thing that happens,” Panther said at the same time Blackrain said, “He usually doesn’t do this.”

Mirage circled Bale to inspect Tach, the mystery guy following suit. Bale could hear someone fiddling with Tach on her back.

“He’s not aware of what he’s doing. He’s operating on base instinct,” the mystery guy said. 

“Yeah, base instinct to strangle me,” Bale grumbled. 

Panther and Blackrain exchanged a glance.

“I was right,” Panther said. Bale thought she might sound smug, but her tone carried a sense of amused bewilderment. 

“Wow,” was Blackrain’s deadpan reply. “I cannot believe this.”

“Oh, I can,” Panther replied breezily. “Saw it coming from day one.” Bale had no idea what they were talking about.

Mirage was presumably trying to yank Tach off, but it only backfired because the shadows intensified. Bale gasped when they constricted around her neck. 

“Is he— does he want to kill me?” Bale wheezed.

Concerningly, nobody replied. The mystery guy was frantically rummaging through his bag. Panther and Blackrain were hovering, seemingly at a loss. Mirage was trying to pry Tach free. The only good part about fearing for her life was that she couldn’t afford to feel guilty about disobeying HQ. 

(But she didn’t really disobey HQ, right? She was doing what was best. She had avoided the worst case scenario of being captured by villains or dying at sea. It was disappointing to let Tach go, but at least they were both alive.)

Panther peered over the shoulder of the mystery guy. “Ummm, I hope you have something, ‘cause if Mirage can’t—”

“Don’t jinx it,” Blackrain declared loudly. 

“Listen, we cannot deal with a dead girl—”

“I’m still here!” Bale cried, if only to be annoying. 

Panther sighed. “Ohh, Tachy. How rude of him to try to kill someone who saved his life. He needs to read up more on Mirage’s code of honour.”

“Should’ve quizzed him again,” Mirage quipped, seemingly nonchalant. “Oh, well. Gotta get him back first.”

Bale felt like she was stuck at the worst dining table of her life with insane conversations whizzing over her head. If this was the environment Tach grew up in (?), no wonder he was bonkers. Or maybe he was the one who drove his caretakers mad. 

“Nobody worry, I have a plan,” the mystery guy announced with confidence. He was still searching through his bag, Blackrain, acting as a coat hanger, stiffly stood with arms filled with strange devices of varying shapes.

“Take your time,” Mirage drawled sarcastically, and Bale found herself nodding along for the first time.

“Put that attitude away, M.” The mystery guy tossed a box at a grumpy Blackrain, carefully passed Panther a vial of neon green liquid, then finally took out a small device. “Okay, I got it!” His thumb firmly pressed down on a button.

Everybody, Bale included, looked at him expectantly. Bale half-expected Tach would magically levitate off her. A beat passed.

“Didn’t work,” he mumbled.

“That’s just fantastic,” Mirage drawled. 

“Don’t give me that look! You know how it is with this kid. Sometimes things just don’t work.”

“You can’t even see my face.”

“Ohhh believe me, I know exactly what face you’re making.”

Right, mystery guy was definitely Mirage’s husband. Bale’s eyes idly scanned the four villains and her gaze landed on Panther. Panther looked at her, and for an instant, Bale experienced a miraculous burst of solidarity— they were both fed up with the lovey-dovey bickering. 

“Ahem,” Panther cleared her throat. “Sooo, the thingamajig didn’t work. What’s Plan B?”

“Plan B,” Mirage’s husband announced grandly, “is a strategy that requires careful execution and an empathetic heart.”

Blackrain exhaled, clearly unamused. Half of his helmet was hidden by a box. “Which is?”

“Oh. Uh. We talk to Tach.”

The four villains stared at Tach, still on Bale’s back. Bale was taught not to talk back to superiors, but the villains weren’t her superiors and she was annoyed, so she burst out, “That’s the master plan? You convince him to let me go? When he can’t even hear us?”

“Heyyyy, don’t underestimate the power of words!” Panther whined in a way that was oddly similar to Tach’s usual cadence, and it struck Bale that Tach was mimicking his folks. “Stick and stones may break your bones, but words will… solve this problem!”

“Right!” Mirage’s husband said brightly. “Who’s going first? M, shall you start us off?”

Mirage let out a long exhale. He moved closer to Bale. She held back the urge to squirm. 

“Hey, kid,” Mirage began gruffly. He sounded so awkward that Bale would’ve laughed if she wasn’t so stressed. “It’s, uh, it’s time to go home with us.”

No response. 

“We have… pie back home. Y’know, apple pie. You like apple pie,” Mirage concluded, rather lamely. 

Panther, Blackrain, and Mirage’s husband exchanged glances. Bale felt like a pinned butterfly under a magnifying glass. 

Mirage’s husband stepped up. “Kid, I know you’re scared and stressed. That’s alright. We’re here for you, okay? We’ll keep you safe.”

This was a massive step up from Mirage’s stellar social skills, but Tach didn’t budge. His shadows were less cold, though. 

Blackrain had a less gentle approach. “Kid, you’re embarrassing us,” he bluntly scolded him. “No villain is going to get caught clinging onto their nemesis. What are you doing?”

Panther cleared her throat. “Tachy, stop bothering the nice girl and get your ass back here.”

Bale frowned. Why did Panther call her nice? 

Mirage’s husband reached out a hand to the swirling shadow mass, but Tach only flinched. 

Since everyone was trying, Bale might as well join in. “You said you wanted to go home, didn’t you? Well, your folks are here to take you home!” When that didn’t garner a response, she hotly burst out, “Also we’re both going to die if you keep this up and we can’t be nemeses anymore if we’re dead.” She gulped for breath. “For goodness’ sake.” 

Exactly nothing happened. Bale and Panther exchanged a glance again.

“M,” Mirage’s husband began.

“No,” was Mirage’s curt reply. 

“Oh, yes,” Blackrain said. He was in a significantly better mood after the gadgets were returned to the bag. “Do the voice.”

“Do the voice!” Panther cheered. “Do the voice!”

Mirage let out a long, exasperated sigh. “You leave me no choice.” 

Bale was bewildered, but also slightly frightened. Being kind and being stern didn’t work onTach. So what was Mirage’s secret weapon? 

Mirage leaned in, then declared in his best dad voice, “You. Are. Grounded.”

Bale winced from second-hand embarrassment. She couldn’t help it. She felt automatically reprimanded by Mirage’s tone and he wasn’t even her father.

“And I’m taking your phone and laptop.”

The shadows froze. Mirage reached out to slowly pry Tach off. Slowly but surely, the shadows peeled off Bale like snakeskin. She shivered and warmth seeped back into her skin. 

Bale cast a glance to the side to see Tach flopping in Mirage’s arms. The shadow tendrils now curled around Mirage, half-menacing, half-protective. Bale let out a quick burst of flames from her fingers to warm herself.  The villains huddled around Tach and discussed in hushed whispers. 

“Do you feel chills on the back of your neck and your spine?”

It was the husband. Bale was taken aback by the abruptness and answered honestly. “Yes.”

“Do you feel any spiky, intrusive pain in your heart, stomach, or head?”

Bale tried to feel for any pain. “... No?”

“Good. You might feel the chills for a while, but there are no permanent effects. Take a bath and drink something warm.”

Bale’s eyebrows furrowed at being randomly given medical advice by a villain, but she nodded. 

“He didn’t want to strangle you, y’know,” Panther butted in randomly. “It’s exactly as you said. Can’t fight a dead nemesis.”

Bale self consciously rubbed her neck and made no reply. Even though he was gone, the shadows left a ghostly imprint on her skin. The reality of what she did was finally sinking into her bones. She had him! She actually had him! And she let him go without a fight. Her stomach fluttered with unease whenever she thought about HQ — that glittery, impenetrable fortress that was her cradle. 

She’d fucked up by not being prepared. She shouldn’t have underestimated the Mutants or gotten carried away with fighting Tach. There was nothing wrong with the act of letting him go, she convinced herself. She had no choice. It was the actions that led her down this route that were mistakes. 

Mirage turned. Bale stiffened, but held back the urge to arm herself. Mirage now had no reason to play nice to her. This was fair game—

“Thank you, Balefire. And I do not say this lightly, but we owe you one.”

Bale blinked. She’d just carelessly stumbled into dangerous territory. The villains owed her, and she couldn’t even use it to her advantage because HQ would demand why they owed her in the first place. She honestly didn’t expect this deal, so she should’ve been smarter about their negotiation. But this was better than being attacked. 

“M, you shouldn’t—”

Mirage cut off Panther. “I mean it. Thank you.”

Now Bale felt bad for some reason. What, did the villains assume she would leave Tach to die? Sure, she had been in danger herself, but saving him didn’t take that much effort… except she was without comms and robbed of her speed, so she did make sacrifices. But that was just the normal thing to do. Tach may have killed people, but he was still a person himself. It was what made her a hero and him a villain. 

Now, perhaps Bale was about to throw away all civility, but she had a burning question. Several questions, in fact, but she only had time for one.

“Why?” she blurted out. “Why do you let him out? Why do you let him kill? He’s untrained. He’s hubristic. He could’ve—,” she swallowed, “died.”

Mirage fixed his stare on her. “Same reason they threw you out of the bird’s nest when you were sixteen.”

“I volunteered—”

“Yes, I’m sure you did. Also, we’re villains, remember? Everything we do is morally upsetting, which includes sending child soldiers to do our nasty deeds. Oh right, that’s what your school does.”

“I’m not a child soldier,” the child soldier said. 

Mirage turned. “Have a good night. We will not mention this incident again. You should be able to call your friends in a bit.”

“The path to the mainland is clear of Mutants,” Panther informed her. “You’ll be alright.”

It was an odd feeling that the villains were doing things that benefited her. Then again, they had negotiated for one of their own. Bale wasn’t going to say thanks, but Mirage had said it first, so it wasn’t weird. 

“Um, thanks.” And before anything else could happen, Bale sped off and didn’t look back. This would give her more plausible deniability. The less she was aware of, the better.

Bale clicked her tongue in frustration. What was wrong with her? She was selfishly concerned about whether she would get into trouble. The issue was significantly bigger than her. Sure, it wasn’t like Bale was a fan of the politicians Tach had killed, but killing was still wrong and he needed to be brought to justice. 

The way back was mercifully quiet, leaving Bale to stew in her thoughts. The coastline came into view and a relieved Bale stumbled into the heroes’ outpost. The two heroes stationed there, Notos and Vesper, didn’t seem surprised to see her. Her costume being blood-stained was nothing new. Bale ripped her helmet off and dabbed her sweaty face with a tissue. 

“Evening, you alright?” Notos asked.

“Yep, I’m not hurt,” Bale managed to get out as she refilled her water bottle then downed half of it in one go. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed what happened to her. “My comms got knocked out by some weird Snappers. I killed a fair amount of them but there could be more. I’m not sure.”

Now that got the heroes’ attention. Notos passed Bale packets of energy gel and she gave a grateful nod. Vesper sat down next to Bale. “Weird Snappers?”

“Yeah, they have abnormally large jaws and move way faster than the normal ones. I’ve got the coords.” Bale then remembered her tracker would show she’d been standing still for a long time for no reason. “Um, I hope they’re accurate, they might’ve gotten banged up.”

“And how about Tach?” Notos asked.

Being too nonchalant was suspicious, but if she acted overly distraught over losing him, it was also suspicious. Bale let out a loud sigh. “Lost him in the chaos,” she muttered, then went back to sipping her packet of energy gel.

Vesper’s face was unreadable. “Right, I’ll have a look at the coords. Balefire, once you’re feeling better, visit the healers’ for a checkup.”

Bale nodded. “Why would there be a new Spinesnapper variant?” she wondered out loud. “Is it a type we’ve never found before because it moves so quickly?”

Vesper and Notos exchanged glances. “I have no clue,” Notos said. “Maybe it’s just how Snappers evolve naturally. Gives me the creeps, to be honest.”

Vesper did not reply. A cold finger slid down Bale’s spine— a remnant from her encounter with Tach— and she tried not to shiver. 

After all, she couldn’t let it show.

“It was insane,” Uma declared passionately. “Like, I was cutting their tongues off! There was so much blood. It was horrible.”

Uma shoved another spoonful of leftovers in her mouth. Her best friend Lillian and boyfriend Kai nodded sympathetically. All three of them were in Uma and Lillian’s shared apartment in the hero neighbourhood, its warm golden glow a solace after the harsh seas. 

“And of course that fish was being an annoyance as per usual,” Uma rambled. “Had the gall to ask me why don’t I follow him on Twitter. Of course I’m not following him. Does he think I’m stupid?”

Lillian reached for the whiteboard propped on her and Uma’s dining table. It was Uma’s conspiracy board on Tach. They usually turned it away so it wouldn’t annoy Uma. All three of them stared at the clipped photos, haphazard connection arrows, and messy notes. Uma took the whiteboard marker and scribbled down “mimics his villain friends”. 

Lillian eyed Uma’s rapidly emptying plate. “Want me to make something? We’re out of leftovers.”

“I’m fine,” Uma said between mouthfuls. At the same time, her stomach grumbled. All three of them laughed. Lillian stood up.

“I’ll make you some noodles.” 

“Aww, thanks.” 

Lillian then slipped away to the kitchen, leaving Uma and Kai alone. Uma glanced at the clock. “Sorry for dragging you here when it’s so late.”

“Nah, it’s alright. Must be scary for you to fight those Mutants.”

Now that the drama was over and Uma could breathe again, she could remember that she had been scared. Tach had been a distraction that kept her from fully panicking. Kai stretched out a hand to pet Uma’s head, and she couldn’t help but smile. 

“It’s a crazy world out there, Kai,” she whined. “I know it’s our job to kill the Mutants, but sometimes…” she stared into the distance and swallowed, “I don’t know what to think about it.”

She really meant that she didn’t know what to think of  “letting Tach go”. Even though Lillian and Kai were her closest friends, she wasn’t going to share that with them. It was treason, accidental or not. Uma wondered if she would regret she gave in so easily.

“Being a hero isn’t easy,” Kai reassured her.

“It sure fucking isn’t,” Uma mumbled. Her neck was still cold. Although that might be due to her wet hair. She hurriedly swallowed more warm food like that would alleviate the odd, chilly guilt in her heart. “I don’t know what I’m doing sometimes.”

“No one knows what they’re doing. But we’re all trying our best.”

Kai’s gentle optimism was a comfort. The situation with Tach and the Mutants now felt faraway and surreal, like it was just a nightmare. She was back home, safe and comfortable, and this was her reality.

Tach would be home, too.

Uma’s hand paused. Her fork scraped against her empty plate. 

No one more thinking about Tach. What was done was done. She shouldn’t dwell on it.

Nobody saw Tach for two weeks.

Uma was concerned. Were the villains up to something? Was Tach up to something? She checked his social media daily just to see if he’d posted more bullshit. Nothing. He couldn’t have died so easily, so he was just quiet. Very unlike him.

Mirage’s faction laid low alongside Tach. It was a welcome change as Bale could now solely focus on the Mutants. In the daytime, she used her super speed to rescue civilians. In the nighttime, she patrolled the sea to kill Spinesnappers. Her patrols were repetitive work, so she was glad whenever friends joined her. 

It was the first time since graduation that Bale’s hero duties were less… chaotic. Tach had showed up during the summer with great gusto to upend the status quo. No longer was Bale the only living speedster. Now, she had to compete with this absolute clown of a child. 

Bale wouldn’t admit she was bored. Being bored was great because it meant nothing was wrong. But as a speedster, she had the constant need to get out and run around. She leaped across buildings as training for parkour. She dropped by the food market to finally get takoyaki. And when she sped across the sea, her heart lurched and she kept a careful eye out.

Then somehow, Tach returned. 

(But with less flair than she’d imagined.)

“Hi!” he yelled at her from the roof of an adjacent building. “It’s me!”

“I can tell!” Bale yelled back and squinted at him. His suit seemed fine. Tach was wearing a skull shirt over his armour. What the hell, sure. 

Tach leaped over to her rooftop. They kept a respectable, enemy-appropriate distance between them. Bale stared at Tach. Tach stared at Bale. 

Then Tach thrust out something in his hands. Bale’s first instinct was to dodge, but he hadn’t shot anything at her. She stared at the garbled mess of shadows in his hands. 

“Erm… is that supposed to be something?”

“It’s a thank you,” Tach explained.

Bale’s blood froze. She was all too aware of the live comms in her helmet. “What?” she burst out, cold sweat beading on her forehead. “What on earth are you talking about?”

Maybe Tach had sensed the panic in her voice, because he immediately pivoted to, “Mirage said you should show off your skills to your nemesis.” Which Bale assumed translated to “Mirage told me to say thank you (for some reason)”. 

Bale eyed his hand suspiciously. “Okay. What’s… this, then?”

“It’s a flower!” Tach said cheerfully. 

What the fuck. If Bale squinted, tilted her head, used her imagination, and closed her eyes, she could vaguely see what he was going for. Flowers were definitely not Tach’s strong suit. But at least he was trying.

Wait, what was going on? Was this Tach’s way of thanking her? She couldn’t be too mean, then. Bale swallowed.

“I like the petals. They’re… squishy.”

“They’re not meant to look squishy.”

“Oh.” Bale averted her gaze. “Well, then.”

The awkward silence stretched on. Then out of the blue, Tach shaped the shadow flower into a katana. Bale jumped.

“Aha! I always knew I was better at making weapons. It’s cool, right? My katana is way cooler than a flower, right?”

Bale took a step back. “Uhh—”

Tach continued rambling. “See! They were all wrong! Girls like swords more than flowers!”

“Wha—”

“Excuse me.”

The two of them turned to see Arcus, Bale’s boyfriend, standing there. A hysterical sense of relief washed over Bale. At least now she wasn’t alone in dealing with Tach’s insanity.

“Oh hihihi!” Tach chirped. “Nemesis-in-law! Good to see you! Shall I give you two some time alone?”

Bale could practically see the gears turning in Arcus’ head. “What are you—”

“Ohhh, don’t mind me.” Tach giggled awkwardly. “Byeee nemesis! Yippeee!”

Bale and Arcus watched as the anglerfish bounced away. “Are you— are you going to chase him?” a flabbergasted Arcus asked Bale.

Bale sighed and geared up. “What else can I do? It’s my job.”

And so off she went once more, their cat-and-mouse chase continuing long into the night.

Back to the status quo.