League of Do Gooders, Ne'er do wells, and those of Evil Intent

Heroics 201

              I'd had worse days. There was the day I stuck my finger up a classmate's nose, the whole "hero getting killed and friend getting dismembered" day, and one really bad 4th of July. But this one was definitely top 5. I came back bruised and a little bloody, to find Situ at the front door. Her expression initially read "strict mom upset that her son was out too long" then immediately switched to "my little brother got first prize at a science fair". Demeaning, but somehow also a little proud.

"Flare." She began.

"It's Lucas now." I corrected.

"Were you..."

I braced myself for the torrent.

"OUT DOING HERO STUFF?!? OhmygoshI'vebeenwaitingtenyearsforthismomentlemmegoputonmyspandex!" She said, foaming at the mouth. The last decade had changed Situ a bit. When I first met her, she was a bundle of stress and determination. After losing three of her four limbs and according to her "falling short of her family legacy", she became a bundle of raw determination. I watched her go from learning how to walk to becoming the star pupil of a martial arts academy for people with limbs. It was honestly inspiring... but also she insisted on making me practice with her, so I can't be confident if I was proud of her or suffering from a concussion.

Situ also looked different. Obviously, puberty happened, but apparently, she was basically done at 15. She hardly grew at all. The differences came more from her personal choices. She used to keep her hair at around chin length, carefully covering up her birthmark with bangs. Those days were long gone. She cut her hair quite short. Buzzed on the sides, a bit longer on the top. It stayed out of her face when she moved, apparently. Her cowlick also showed off her birthmark in blazing clarity for the whole world. Her attire became much simpler as well. Gone were the days of immaculately ironed collared shirts and neckties. Everything was dry fit.

"No, I was just out doing some side work for my uncle." I replied.

"Yeah. Sure. Your uncle who"- Situ darted behind me, unzipping my backpack, "STILL CARRIES... Seriously I'd be a lot more excited about you returning to this hero business if you could wear the mask again."

The mask was something we argued about a lot. When Galactic Mask died, his ornate eye mask was passed down to me. I wore it once, absolutely failed the job, and I didn't have the heart to sell it or give it away, so it sat in locked safe, gathering dust, as it had for ten years. I haven't touched it, but Situ maintained a growing selection of post-it notes on the safe, mostly motivational quotes from a variety of international speakers, a few personal statements, and all of the above contained the safe combination.

I'd changed as well. I used to be really interested in being flashy. I had a whole theme to my clothing- Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, my logo meticulously hand made and sewn onto everything... but I had a new theme. Pockets. My coat had extra pockets, my pants had extra pockets, I grew my hair out so it could become a tangled mess and maybe hold a pencil, even my sandals had a pocket... though it just contained my feet. I could carry every random tool or thing I needed without ever having to go back. Situ always said "a hero is always prepared", but she was in engineering school and I was a certified mechanic. We both knew that a hero didn't need nearly as many tools in their daily work. That being said, her grades were tanking in engineering school. She'd fallen three years behind. Things had changed considerably since she was in school. Even after she asserted herself into my family and started going to school with me in Oklahoma, she was always leagues ahead of me in school. Apparently, she had peaked, and all she cared about now was getting new prosthetics and martial arts.