He remembered reading lots of SI fanfics back on his Earth. His favorites had been the Potterverse-centric ones, mostly because he loved magic. The writers always talked about magic and the school and the people they met, the rivals they made, the enemies they vanquished, and the problems they solved.
No one ever really considered the families.
A lot of times, the family stuff was handwaved by some convenience: they were an orphan, their parents were basically nonexistent, supported the main character wholeheartedly, were a main part of the plot, or they just weren't mentioned at all. He understood why: Realistic family matters always got in the way of a good story. Aunt May would've been pretty damn curious to know why Peter came back home at odd hours of the night, beat up, bloodied, and scratched all to hell. If Harry's parents had lived, they probably would have pulled him from Hogwarts after the fourth book. If Naruto had been raised by someone who actually gave a damn about him, a lot of people in the village would have probably shut their mouths around him.
Late nights, when he had dreamed of being a superhero/magician/warrior/knight, he always assumed that it would happen during a time when his parent gave him a bit more freedom. In college, per se.
That didn't happen here.
In this world, his grandfather and father had been Kyushu survivors and had actually seen Lung and Leviathan destroy their home as they watched, miles offshore in one of the few boats that had actually made it to mainland Japan before the waves had gotten so bad. He had foggy memories of his father telling him that story many times as a child, the man having a haunted look on his face as he did so. It was why he never argued with the ABB about the protection fees. He knew what Lung could do. His father had met a Korean girl, Chae-Yeong, and despite their cultural differences, had indeed ended up marrying her. They had good, respectable jobs that put food on the table: his father had been an electrician, and his mother had been a seamstress. They always paid the protection fees on time, and they made sure to keep little Idris inside at night. They were carefully making friends, and they only shopped in the ABB-protected areas. They avoided capes in every capacity they could and warned their son to be careful of them as well.
They had done everything right in every way possible. They were the model Asian family living in gang territory. They didn't stick their nose in other people's business, they didn't have any connections with capes, and they always stayed in the places where they knew they were safe.
And yet, his father died of a heart attack, and his mother fell down a ladder at work and broke her neck.
There was no one to blame. There was no attempt on his parent's life. They were no capes involved. Men in his family were known to have problems with their cholesterol, but his dad loved fried foods. He keenly remembered his father making any excuse to go to Fugly's. Burgers had been his weakness. One day, a clot had formed in his arteries and his heart had just stopped. He had died in his office, and his body had been discovered an hour later.
Then it was just him, his mother, and his grandfather.
His mother had forbidden foods like eggs, beef, pork, butter, and even whole milk in an effort to prolong his and his grandfather's lives. Which was unfortunate, because a lot of really good Asian food relied on these things. Rice could get really boring after a while, no matter how you tried to spice it up.
Two years later, he had been called to the office in middle school, with the principal gently telling him that his mother had fallen off a ladder at work, and by the time the EMTs had made it there, it had been too late.
And then it was just him and his grandfather.
And his grandfather had just sort of...closed up, after that. His son and his daughter-in-law had died way too soon, and his twelve-year-old grandson was all he had left of them. He went back to work. He put food on the table. He made sure the lights and water were on. He asked him if his homework was done after school. He got him new clothes and shoes for every school year. Technically, he wasn't neglected. But his grandfather barely spoke, outside of a greeting and an inquiry into how his day was.
He didn't know if everything that had happened to his family in this world had been an accident, fate, or something constructed by the mysterious entity that gave him access to the dark room. And he could have just left it at that. He was fairly sure that his grandfather would let him do as he wished. He didn't have to sneak about like Skitter would have. He didn't have to keep secrets; the man gave him plenty of privacy.
But he wanted to know him. To understand him, and maybe get him out of his slump. He'd never met his grandfather in his previous life: the man had apparently died long before he was born. He didn't want to talk to some walking corpse that paid the bills and gave him a place to sleep.
He wanted someone to worry about him, someone to ask him if he was safe, someone who wanted to see him come back home. Was that selfish? Involving an innocent into a life filled with danger, just because you wanted to be loved by someone?
Maybe. He wasn't sure if he cared enough.
So, rather than do the reveal, little by little, the way he liked to do a lot of things, he decided to go for broke and let it all out.
"Grandfather," he said in Nihongo. The man could speak English, but his accent was atrocious, and he only knew a few sets of phrases, despite having lived in America for years now. " Do you know what a parahuman is?"
The old man looked at him in confusion and surprise. It was rare enough that the two of them spoke, and it was even rarer for his grandson to initiate the conversation. " Parahuman? You mean, like the Dragon?"
He should have guessed that Lung would be his grandfather's reference for parahumans. A lot of Asian people in the Bay thought of Lung first when Parahumans were brought into a conversation.
"Yeah, like the Dragon."
His grandfather nodded slowly. "Yes. I know what they are. Stay away from them. They are like the old gods; too stubborn to reason with, too strong to be fought. Best to do what all humans did back when we worshipped Amaterasu and Izanagi; Pray that you don't meet them, and mind your own business."
Well…that made things a bit harder.
"What if I was a parahuman?" he asked.
"It would depend," his grandfather said after a moment of thinking. "What would you plan to do?"
"Help people,"
he replied confidently. "Stop the gangs. Save the city. Maybe even the world."His grandfather gave a chuckle. It was the first time he'd seen the man smile in years. Seeing that made him crack a smile of his own.
"You know, you sound like Yuji," the elder man said, his voice quiet.
Yuji. His father. His grandfather hadn't talked about his dad since his death.
"Your father used to be a big fan of heroes, long before you were born. He used to support a group called the Sentai Eleite, and his favorite member was a man called Kirin White. He bought so many of their toys and clothing that our house started to look like an advertisem*nt shop. When…when The Serpent attacked our home, he was confident that the Sentai would kill the creature. Were it not for me begging him to leave, he would have stayed and sank with the rest of our neighbors, so complete was his belief in his heroes.
"But of course, they failed, just like all the others did. Your father was devastated by that, but what really poisoned his heart against heroes as a whole was the fact that all of them did not die that day."
Idris frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"
His grandfather gave him a dry smile. " Some of them ran. And the one that ran first, according to the news we received weeks later, was the man he had cherished the most.
"Kirin White ran first."
"Your father never said his name in our house again, after that. And he forbade any mention of heroes or villains under any roof that he was paying for. That's why your parents told you not to trust parahumans as a whole. On one hand, you have the monsters, willing to kill hundreds for their own greedy goals, just like the old gods. And on the other, you have cowards who would run from their duty if given the chance."
"...but anyone would run from Leviathan.
" Idris protested. " It's Leviathan!""You say that, and yet every three months, men and women, weak and strong alike, voluntarily go and fight the Serpent and his siblings. Kirin White swore an oath to protect Japan and her people through all threats. But rather than die like a man, he decided to flee like a coward. He ran from his duty. His word became meaningless.
"His grandfather gave him an odd look, then.
"If…if you became one of them," he said carefully. "I would say to choose what makes you happy but to be aware of your choices, and the promises that you make. Because it doesn't matter if you choose to be a hero or villain: gods and monsters rarely have happy endings. "
…maybe today wasn't the best time to tell his grandfather after all.
************************************************************************
Do you wanna get the edge over Emma? If so, come to Mr. Gladly's class during lunch.
It was a text that Julia had received late last night, from an unknown number, and she didn't know what to make of it. First, she had panicked, trying to text the person back, and even call them, because if Emma ever figured out that she was after her throne, she'd be in an even worse spot than Hebert. Then, after taking an hour to calm herself down, she wondered who it was: it couldn't be anyone in her friend group, because they hated Emma as well, and any edge that they could use would have been shared amongst them instantly.
And now, as she entered Gladly's room, she felt determination. Because nothing rankled more than bowing down to an entitled rich white girl, the same thing she'd been doing since fifth grade. If she could get anything that could knock Emma down the social pedestal, then she'd take it, because Emma was f*cking sick in the head. What kind of psychopath targets one girl for two years? Yeah, she had f*cked with Taylor too, but all she had done was the small petty stuff like sprinkle pencil shavings in her hair or buy the juice that they threw on her. Nothing like sabotaging her grades or spreading rumors about her. No matter what happened, she was gonna get this info, and if it was good enough, maybe someone could knock Emma and Sophia off of their high horses.
Except, when she entered the room, no one was there. For a minute, she was confused, trying to call or text the number that had contacted her, once again to no avail.; was somebody f*cking with her? Or was this a trap set by the Trio? Holy sh*t, that would be something those vicious little bitches would try, wouldn't it-
"You know, I really don't understand why all of you girls have this image of 'ruling the school.' You know we're sophom*ores, right? We have two more years left to go, and then we're done with this sh*t hole," a familiar voice said lazily.
Julia's blood froze as she realized that the situation was far worse than she had first thought.
Taylor Hebert's little savior was standing in front of the door.
"I mean, if you guys made any actual meaningful connections, then maybe I would see the point of staying together, but what does being queen have to do with anything?"
She said nothing, merely eyeing him cautiously. Emma may have started calling him an ABB kid to get the Nazi boys to target him, but it was entirely possible that he actually was one, or he was one of the kids that didn't mind using the ABB's infamy for his own purposes. Julia had heard of it happening in Winslow before: the siblings of official gang members using the gang's image as a sort of smokescreen, making all the other kids cower at the threat of what could happen if they stepped out of line. Julia had done her very best to stay away from the ABB, but if Idris was one of them…
"You don't have to look so scared, Julia," he said with a chuckle. "After all, I did invite you here. It would be rude to attack you."
It took her a second to connect the dots.
"Wait, you're the one who sent me that text? How the hell did you get my number?"
"Don't worry about that," he said, waving off her concern. "My question to you still stands. Do you want to get the edge over Emma and take her place?"
"...why are you asking?" she asked, curiosity and nervousness leaking into her voice in equal quantities.
"Do you like hurting Taylor?"
"I honestly couldn't give less than two f*cks what Hebert does with her life," she replied instantly. "If it was up to me, I'd just ignore her, and leave her to her business. I don't know what Emma's beef with her is, but I've only done smaller-scale stuff of what Madison does in class. Not the sh*t that threatens her future."
Idris nodded. "And that's why I'm asking. I don't want you to be her friend, and I think she doesn't want you to be hers. I don't think an apology would make things better, and I really don't care about making you see the errors of your ways and making you a better person. The new leader of the Winslow Girls-I don't really know what your group name is and I don't care-just needs to be someone who will mind their own f*cking business and leaves people be. I chose you because I noticed that you did the bare minimum to gain Emma's favor."
Julia nodded at that last point. Some of the girls were so infatuated with being part of Emma's clique that they would happily put themselves in physical danger just to get on her good side. And she could understand why. Emma's daddy was a rich white lawyer. Emma got invited to fashion shows and parties amongst the city's elite. Emma threw awesome parties and knew everything about everyone. Emma never got into trouble, no matter what she did. Emma was friends with Sophia, one of the strongest kids in the school, able to fight evenly with some of the tougher boys in their grade. If you became Emma's friend, part of her inner circle, all of this became available to you.
"Alright. Let's say, hypothetically, I was in. How would you beat her? You know you can't just put her in the hospital, right? Fighting girls isn't the same as fighting boys, as I'm sure you've seen. We're petty as hell. If need be, Emma will get you expelled, or even arrested for something much worse than what you actually did."
A nasty-looking grin appeared on Idris' face. "I know. My mom used to tell me not to pick a fight with girls because I would lose. I used to think it was because girls were somehow stronger, but seeing what Emma did to Taylor made me realize something; you ladies like to fight with reputation and information. You make rumors about people. You take pictures of others at certain times, suggesting an entirely different scenario than what actually happened. You blackmail and insult other's that you feel are beneath you. Emma and her crew taught me a lot…and I learned from it. Check your phone. I sent you some videos a little while ago."
Raising an eyebrow, Julia did as he asked and looked through her messages. She did have a few new messages, but these were from a different number than the one he'd sussed to contact her before. How many phones did he have? She opened up one of the videos, and-
"You know Taylor, it's really hard to believe how pathetic you are. I wonder what Aunty Annette would say if she saw you now."
"You look tired Taylor. Too much fun slumming it up at the Dock's last night?"
"You know, if you didn't look like a Tim Burton character, you might be able to convince some poor guy to actually touch you."
Holy sh*t.
Videos. Pictures. Audio. Hard evidence of the Trios' bullying. There were videos and pictures of Emma throwing juice at Taylor, of Sophia's shoulder checking her in the halls, and of Madison throwing pencil shavings in her hair. A few of them were taken from an outside perspective, but a disturbing amount of them were taken from a first-person POV.
Had Hebert been in on it? Had she let herself get bullied for two years to collect evidence on the Trio? Holy sh*t, the girl was hardcore.
But…New Hampshire was a two-party consent state. She remembered that becuase Emma occasionally took videos of them pouring juice on Hebert or saying stuff that made her cry, and then putting it in the group chat. Emma had said that it was illegal to take videos and pictures of minors without their consent, and evidence like this would be thrown out in court. She didn't see how Idris could use this to help Taylor, and she told him so.
That nasty little grin on his face only grew a bit wider.
"Who the hell says that we're getting the police involved?"
Okay, where was he going with this? "What do you mean?"
He held up three fingers. "Three major things that I've found out about the Trio: Emma hates the Bay, and is relying on her modeling business to take off and get her out of here because her father refuses to move."
One finger down.
"Madison wants to get into an Ivy League school, far away from the Bay, in order to get away from her uber-Christian parents. That's why she started stealing Taylor's homework and projects; Taylor had much better grades than most of the school before Madison started messing with her grades. Madison had a 2.5 GPA before. Now, she has a 3.0 GPA. Not the best for someone who wants to get into an Ivy League school, but she has one more year to get her grades higher."
Another finger down.
"I'll be handling Sophia personally, but surprise surprise, she's on probation, and she steps a toe out of line, it's off to juvie she goes."
Final finger down.
Realization dawned upon Julia.
"You're not taking this to the law because you don't want the cops to get involved in this. You want to destroy them personally. You want to ruin their futures."
It's a very simple question to ask. If you were the owner of a successful model agency, and you were sent a video of one of your models bullying another girl, wouldn't you instantly drop her? If you were the Dean of an Ivy League school, and you were sent a video of one of your future students pouring glue on another student's seat, would you even accept their application?
Or…if you were a man who doted on his daughter, and thought she could do no wrong, how would you feel if you got two years' worth of evidence that she was someone's personal devil. If you and your wife were completely committed to the church and its teachings, how would you feel if someone sent you pictures of your daughter tearing someone down verbally? Sure, you can protect her from the law, and keep it to the family, but there would be no more mistaking that the innocent little girl that your daughter presents is nothing more than a lie.
How would you act towards her then?
"Don't send that yet," Julia said quickly. When Idris raised an eyebrow, she clarified. "I'll send you screenshots of the group chat, the one where Emma asks girls to trail Taylor, or when they tell everyone to do something to her in class. Plus, tomorrow's Winter Break and Emma has some kind of plan that she says will break Taylor completely. Let me record that conversation, and send it to you."
A flash of emotion appeared on Idris' face as she mentioned the Winter Break plan, but it quickly smoothed over, his devilish grin taking its place.
"I take it that means you're in?"
She nodded, finally returning his grin. "Let's take those bitches down."
***************************************************************************
Sophia had discovered an enigma.
Idris Takafumi.
A stupid name that belonged to a stupid kid. She didn't know who he was; just some loser who had come to Hebert's rescue. He didn't have any friends, wasn't on any teams, and was average in school. It was the first time she'd seen Emma flounder in trying to use her version of power, her words, on someone who just didn't care. But there was one thing about him that she was sure of, it was this.
Idris was a parahuman.
It was in the way he talked, the way he seemed to disregard the humans as non-threats, even the way he smirked at them when he foiled one of their efforts to mess with Hebert. The way he looked down at them in a way, like they were below him.
Well, all of them except her.
Oh, he still looked down on her, but he didn't smirk when he looked at her. His eyes tracked her. It was the same look you gave when someone in a hoodie stepped into a store. They could be a customer or a robber, so you didn't want to take any chances either way and watched them in the corner of your eye. He didn't feel he was in danger, but he felt she was a danger in general.
So that meant that he knew she was one as well. A parahuman, that is.
And honestly, this didn't scare her. It excited her. Because he reminded her of…her.
How likely was it that she had finally found her equal? Someone who understood that power was meant to be used to prop yourself up and push down those who wouldn't acknowledge it? That there was no point in saving the sheep if they couldn't at least bite the wolf that tried to eat them?
She wasn't sure. After all, he was obsessed with Hebert.
And it was only Hebert. She'd pushed and made fun of a few other people in front of him, and his eyes seemed to just slide over her actions. It was only when she made a move on Hebert that his eyes became laser-focused, and hostility entered his body.
Maybe…Hebert was his Emma? But Emma was a partner because she had a different kind of strength that Sophia herself didn't possess; political and social power, the power of words and barbs. What the hell was Hebert supposed to teach him? How to shrivel in the face of danger? How to be a spineless doormat? Maybe it was favors of some sort, like help with homework? It sure as hell couldn't be her body. Hebert looked like a giant bug, what with her wide mouth and big, dopy-looking eyes.
But…with the way he touched her, those little side hugs, the shoulder brushes, the small smiles at each other...maybe? She wasn't sure. Emma was better at figuring out people in social settings. But she hadn't told Emma any of her suspicions. The girl was slowly getting more and more pissed off at Idris, annoyed that he was getting in the way of her plans and how he seemed unbothered by his own bullying campaign. It was the first time Emma had faced a significant obstacle, and nothing she was doing seemed to work. Sophia Honeslyt didn't care about Hebert: this was Emma's crusade, she'd be just fine if they left that little geek to rot alone forever. But Emma was convinced that crushing Hebert would somehow make herself stronger, that she'd be able to handle anything if she could make Hebert quit. Honestly, though, her mind was more on Idris. How should she approach him? Should she expose both of them as parahumans? Try and strike up a conversation with him? How would that even go? Would he be aggressive and fight back? Or would he calmly deny what he was, and hold her own status over her head as blackmail?
And that was without going into the fact that she didn't know which parahuman he was. He might be an independent, a hero, a villain, or a rogue. He could be a new trigger, or someone who'd had their powers for years. Was he strong or weak? If he was strong, what was he doing bothering with school when he could be out there doing whatever he wanted? But then again, she went to school too, and not just because the PRT expected her to. She actually didn't mind this dump, since it catered to her. Maybe he was the same?
…she'd have to think about this. She'd consider letting Emma in on it if she absolutely had to. In the meantime, she'd keep it to herself, and focus on the prank that they'd planned for Hebert.
Maybe….maybe the Prank would even be enough to make Hebert fight back and see just how much Idris valued her.
***********************************************************************
Don't be weird about this. This is a normal thing that friends do. You used to do this all the time with Emma. Things haven't changed that much.
"Hey, Idris?"
The boy was sketching something in a notebook, his lunch untouched. They were in the cafeteria this time; the Trio had tried to oust them, of course, but when Idris rolled his eyes and sat at a table, they didn't do more than scowl and walk away. Another thing she had to thank him for; she'd been unofficially 'banned,' from the cafeteria when the Trio had bothered her during lunchtime, and no one had bothered to say anything about it.
"What's up?" he said, half of his attention on her, and the other half on the drawing
"Are you free tonight?" she asked tentatively. Yeah, they were good school friends, but this was different. This would be in a setting outside of school, where they didn't have the common enemy of the Trio to bind them together.
He actually paused in his sketch, looking up at her with bemusem*nt.
"Depends on the time. Why?"
Okay, be cool, be calm, and just say it.
"Would you like to have dinner together?"
That…was not what she meant to say…
"At my house," she clarified, her cheeks burning. "With my dad, I mean. He wants to meet you, and we could get started on our Winter Break homework too, if you want."
"What time is dinner at your house?" he asked.
"Um, about seven o'clock. Can you make it?"
Please say yes.
It would be so embarrassing if he couldn't make it, especially since she'd told her dad that he would be there tonight. After hearing about Idris for almost two months in a row, Danny Hebert was extremely interested in meeting him. And she could understand why; she'd gone from barely wanting to talk about school to animatedly talking about her new friend, his opinions, the conversations they had, and even (heavily) modified versions of how he helped her against the bullies. If she was in Danny's position, she'd want to meet him too.
A frown made its way onto Idris' face. "That's around the time my grandfather and I have dinner. I don't want to leave him alone, especially not at night."
The first thing she wanted to ask was You have a grandfather?! Because that had never come up in conversation. With how little he mentioned his family, she assumed that he was probably in a situation similar to hers; with a guardian that had a lot on their plate and not enough time on their hands. However, because she was raised right, she didn't. She could interrogate him about family matters later.
"Well, that's fine. We can always reschedule-"
"Or I can just bring him along," Idris cut in. "I'm sure he'd love to meet you."
That… wasn't a bad idea, actually. And she could make lasagna for four people instead of three. She could even make garlic bread, to snazz it up.
"Yeah, that's fine! The more the merrier!"
She wanted to get to know Idris better, and outside of a school setting, where grades and bullies didn't matter. And meeting his family could only be a good thing. Maybe…maybe their families could have the same relationship with each other that she and Emma used to have. It would be a relief, knowing that there was another adult she could talk to for advice.
Smiling bitterly at what used to be fond memories, she turned her attention to what Idris was sketching.
"Who's that you're drawing?" She'd never seen a costume like that before.
"Video game character," Idris said immediately. "Thought he looked cool. I've been procrastinating and putting it off in the game I'm playing, but if I don't deal with him soon, he'll become a headache. I figured that after dinner, I'd beat him in his game. Maybe see if I can do a clean sweep and get a high score."
The figure that Idris had drawn wore a skintight black bodysuit with a stencil of a white snake curling around it, its head on his forehead, extending down the back of his head, looping and winding over his entire body with its tail at one ankle. A zipper was hidden in the snake, at the ankle. The mask didn't have eye holes, and the fabric of the costume was opaque black-gray. The way it clung to his skin let you see his individual ribs and joints, and in Taylor's humble opinion, he looked creepy as hell. Probably a horror game of some sort. And that was another thing she didn't know about Idris. He had never mentioned playing video games before. Maybe the two of them could play it together? Sure, she wasn't the biggest fan of video games, but friends made compromises for each other all the time. She could probably search it up online and see what it was like. At the top of the drawing was probably either the game's name or the character's.
Coil.
Hmm…now where had she heard that name before?
