The southern section of Deika City was the last part to be repaired. While the north was the region immediately tended to, given a memorial and paved with grey concrete, the south received little to no attention. It was still a wasteland.
As Geten walked through the broken streets, coated with a layer of ash, she recalled that this was where the fight started, where the celebrants poured out from everywhere, where the Resurrection Festival had began. The curtains had parted here.
Yet it was a tragic end that befell the Liberation Army, the curtains closing mercifully upon the final scene. Where there was zeal and hope to light the fire of liberation of meta abilities, it had been snuffed out by their enemies-turned-leaders.
It made her angry. Still, she refused to believe it at first. But after spending a few days walking amongst these heathens, the ceasefire still in effect, she began to realise that: No, it was no ceasefire, but a total surrender. Seeing her Grand Commander in the hospital, reeking of defeat – the word was poisonous to think – only confirmed her fears. Still, her beliefs persisted.
No, it was not the end. I have yet to hear him speak, hear him retake control over his loyalists.
That was what she thought, until just now, when he announced the transformation of the Meta Liberation Army to the Paranormal Liberation Front. And he would be transferring his leadership to that boy.
"Idiot! He did not give it up. That boy forced Re-destro to abdicate his throne. That must be it! It must be..." She muttered to herself, fists clenching as she her pace quickened. Her legs shivered.
Weakling. The coward surrendered the throne, Another voice in her head snarled.
How Re-destro acted towards the boy disgusted her. She could recall it clearly. Re-destro offering the boy a drink, like a common servant. He was smiling with placation, not unlike the polite expressions the bellhops wore in hotels. The Re-destro she knew since her induction into the Liberation Army was dead.
She sneered, but she did not know if it was her rage against that boy for bringing Re-destro to his knees, or her pity towards Re-destro's lowliness. She could not bear to watch further, and hence left the celebrations early.
Which brought her here, kicking stones aside and letting the fire in her stomach burn. Images burnt like film into her mind, forever frozen in her memories, the ones that hurt her. Part of her was angry, a raging inferno, while the other was scared, shivering, at her thoughts of treachery.
She sat down on a fallen pillar, her breaths growing faster. These two sides of her collided, and she did not know what to do. Her fists were shaking, the ice in her pocket thrashing around, responding to her distraught mind.
Her hands grasped her parka, pulling it tightly over her head. She was his weapon, his will incarnate.
What did she have, if she was no longer Re-destro's weapon?
The answer came to her after a pause of breath. She exhaled slowly. The fire and ice within her embraced now.
She stood up; her arms fell to her sides.
I execute the will of the Liberation Army. Re-destro is not fit to lead and guide our principles, but the principles are unchanged. Strength is survival. I will ensure that.
Her mind was clear. She brought her right hand up. A pillar of ice erupted from the ground, obeying her commands. Clenching her fist, the pillar compressed into a giant sphere, and at the thrust of her arm, it flew forward into a brick wall, smashing it into smithereens.
Then she felt a surge in temperature from her side. A wall of ice rose to block the torrent of flame on her right, melting the wall and allowing her an unwanted view of the man who had unleashed the fire.
"You." She faced him.
"I try to get away from this...party," Dabi said, the last word dripping with disdain, "and I find you here. This is really beginning to annoy me."
His head was tilted to the side, staring at her with those cold eyes of his. She realised his true intentions behind his words and actions: an invitation to fight to fulfil their mutual promise.
For the first time that night, Geten's face twisted into a smile.
"You were a pathetic nuisance the minute you showed at our doorstep." With that, Geten raised icicles and sent them flying towards the fire-user in all directions, like targeted missiles.
What followed was something Geten grudgingly admired. Dabi seemed to note every shard's position. He rolled to dodge one, blasting fire at two to melt them while resuming his standing position. He swept his right arm, creating a barrier of flames that stopped the few coming from the front. The last shard, about to stab him in the back, was used as a platform to backflip off of, sending the shard into the ground shattered. The man landed unscathed, and judging by his indifferent expression, unimpressed.
Geten allowed herself a smile, but Dabi couldn't see it from her parka covering her face. "Shame you didn't present such versatility when we last battled. It would have made for a more interesting fight, if you hadn't stood still the entire time and fired," She called out.
"I don't bother exerting myself for weak trash," He replied.
"That's a compliment, then."
Dabi's face morphed into anger. He rushed at her, his hands igniting.
Geten performed another 'raising' gesture, with an ice spike forming underground and about to pierce her opponent, when Dabi did something that stunned her.
Dabi, without shifting his glare away from her, aimed his palm at the ground and fired, melting the oncoming ice, which never reached his feet.
What the hell? He predicted that? Geten thought as she raised a thin wall of ice to separate the two. Waving her arms, ice carried her upwards, evading Dabi's violent flames that punched through the wall and where she was a split second ago.
Once she was twice his height, the ice beneath her reformed and flowed towards her arms. She let herself fall headfirst onto Dabi, who had just noticed the shadow blanketing him.
She slammed onto the ground, gauntlets of ice cracking the pavement like glass. She scowled, seeing as Dabi had managed to leap away in the nick of time.
A stream of azure fire was sent her way, which she raised her fists to block.
Need more ice, she thought. She felt for the melting ice around her; the molecules were beginning to vibrate more vigorously but still under melting point. With a thought, their temperature plummeted like an uncontrolled elevator down a shaft. The water molecules slowed, the effect spreading fast. Soon she had more ice at her disposal.
Just in time for her to coalesce them into shards and shoot at Dabi.
Dabi growled and fired another blast to nullify the attack. He clutched at his smoky right arm.
"Getting tired yet? Painful, isn't it?" Geten taunted, grinning at her imminent victory. All other thoughts faded away, leaving only one in her mind: I'm going to kill him.
"What about you? You're shaking." Dabi pointed a finger at her hands. Immediately, she shoved them into her pockets.
He smirked at her reaction. "Let me guess. Decreasing the temperature of the ice requires you to absorb their energy. And it has to go somewhere, right? You."
Damn it. I'm overheating. How could she have let this happen? She was usually mindful about her limits. What changed?
She stood her ground, willing her body to cool down, but she could not attack. Any ice she summoned would melt too fast, thereby removing her control over it.
"Can't move, can't attack..." Dabi mused, keeping his gaze on her. "How about we call it even?"
"Never." She spat.
Dabi blinked, then shrugged. "Suit yourself."
He ran at her, his eyes alit with malice.
Come on. She willed any ice to move, but she felt the water slip out of her control as soon as she commanded it. Her heart raced.
He wasn't stopping. His hands were burning. The azure flames were blinding her. Perhaps it would be the last light she ever saw.
The ice in her pockets? She felt a cold wetness against her stomach. Her heart skipped a beat. I've lost control.
Dabi's arm was raised, beginning to blaze with uncontrolled power. She closed her eyes, her body heat nothing compared to the flames that stung her face.
I'm weak.
Yet it was not flaming agony that scorched her face, but cooling nighttime wind caressing her cheeks. She opened her eyes to see the well-dressed villain with that top hat and mask looking at her curiously. In his hand was a blue pearl.
"Thought you two were having a practice match, so I stayed far away," Mr Compress said, "But then things seemed to heat up, so to speak. Had to step in."
He tossed the pearl containing Dabi into the air a few times. Geten just stared at him as best as she could with the spots dancing in her eyes, her mind in a whirl. She blinked a few times.
"Normally I wouldn't intervene. I love a good show, and you two were excellent performers." He pocketed the pearl. "However, Shigaraki wants you alive. He knows you're powerful, so I can't have Dabi take you out so fast. I'm not saying I care about you, but..." He shrugged.
"Don't die just yet. You're needed in this army." He bowed and left, swinging his cane carelessly.
Geten stood there for a while. She knew she had cooled down, but strangely she found herself quaking from her head to her toes. Finally, she dropped down onto the floor. She felt something wet flow down her cheeks and plop onto her parka.
Burying her face in her gloved hands, she allowed a sob to ripple through her throat.
Her own voice roared at her. A failure! You wanted to be a weapon, but you lost against him. Weakling.
You're needed in this army, Compress had told her. Needed as a weapon, but for the new army, not the one where her loyalties lie.
She should have been happy. Maybe I am. Are these tears of joy? She couldn't explain it. The fact that he had acknowledged her purpose was validation of her skills. The fact that Shigaraki was keeping her alive was proof that she was a powerful asset.
Then why did she feel so empty and cold?
Something bit at her.
Him and I, fire and ice, day and night. What is it about him, about the League, that's so different from the Army? So different from me?
Perhaps it was just the cold.
------
"What the fuck was that?" Dabi pushed Compress against the walls of the hotel room.
"Watch it," The entertainer warned, the threat making Dabi take a step back. "As for what I was doing, you were about to kill her! The hell were you thinking? We might not be chums with the Liberation Army, but we aren't enemies anymore. How would you have explained yourself to Shigaraki?"
Dabi sat down on his bed. "I wasn't going to kill her. I couldn't have."
Compress, massaging his back, raised an eyebrow. He stated after a pause, "You were drained, weren't you."
"You're a showman, you should have known it was all fake. I barely could have choked out enough flames to cook her. I just wanted to see her lose." Dabi said.
The other snorted, "Well excuse me, it looked pretty real, and I was being cautious. And you did win. Whatever rivalry you two have."
Dabi rubbed his pain-wracked arms. "I'm going to shower." He stood up.
He was at the door when Compress spoke. "Y'know, I can't honestly tell whether you two want to kill each other or show off who's better."
"Both." He answered as left the room.