“My plan’s going to work out, Deen,” I said. “Don’t worry. Have some confidence in me.”
It was Thursday, and the noon sun was high above the Cresthorne parking lot. Deen and I walked to her car; we were going to meet the hero wannabes for lunch. As I had predicted, Reo called Dario about my little visit, and Dario, the asshole supreme of the city, called for an emergency meeting. Hopefully, we could reach a consensus before my own meeting with Auron and the PCM douchebags.
Meeting after meeting. Was this the life of Mom? Annoying to be bound by a schedule. Class schedules bound me, too. But there was something about meetings in particular that irked me. I was probably not cut out to be a lawyer because that was a life full of meetings.
“I’m not belittling you,” Deen said. “But I can’t help worrying. There are so many things that might go wrong. Too many factors that—”
“Wait,” I cut in. “You’re just going to skip over that?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Belittling. Shortness. It’s the perfect opportunity to make a joke about my height.”
Deen laughed as she rounded her blue SUV to get to the driver’s side. Before getting in, she said, “You’re short. Satisfied?”
“That wasn’t a joke at all,” I said, hopping onto the passenger’s seat.
“I’m not in the mood to think of a joke. Be serious here, Erind. I was saying that there are so many factors that we don’t know about. So many things out of our control.”
“Isn’t that just real life? It’s impossible to have the perfect plan and have everything go according to it.”
Sometimes, I suspected that Deen got off on worrying. It could be similar to those people who brought tons of notes on the day of a big exam. No way they were going to read all of that material before the exams started, but they brought it anyway as sort of a security blanket. Deen probably liked to agonize about everything that could go wrong to feel prepared.
If I had Deen’s power, I’d be relaxed about everything. I’d probably start all sorts of shenanigans just to see how the Guardian Angel would save me. Deen shouldn’t be cautious. She should push the limits of safety because she had an exit.
“And you’re here to keep me safe,” I added.
Deen sighed. “Yes… Yes… I promised your mom that I’ll take care of you, which is why I want you to be careful. I can’t be by your side all the time. Myra agreeing to your plan makes me more worried.”
“Relax, Mom,” I drawled. “We’ll adjust according to circumstances. Let’s focus on the meeting first.”
After starting the car, Deen checked her appearance on her phone’s camera.
I absentmindedly copied her. I was on autopilot mode, preoccupied with planning for the hero wannabe meeting. In this state, I did the most generic thing to fit in, and, given the situation, I mimicked Deen’s ‘grooming habits’ to be part of ‘the herd’. Not sure if that animal behavior analogy explained it well.
Deen looked me over. I cut her off before she could say anything, “Yes, the clothes you picked for me yesterday are really cute. Thank you, Goddess of Shopping.”
“We should do that again sometime,” Deen said. “Shopping. Just the two of us. Or what about a girl’s night out? Dress up a bit and visit a bar.”
“Deen, you know that I don’t drink.” That was against Rule #10. If I got drunk, I might do something out of character for the face I was wearing. Not only that, but part of my true self might peek out. Better not risk it.
“Alcohol doesn’t have any effect on us anymore, if that’s your worry.”
“Oh… Right.” How did this work? Unlike most of my other Rules, Rule #10 had a specific purpose. And that purpose was no longer there. But Rules were Rules, and I had to follow them.
“It doesn’t have to be alcohol,” Deen said. “You can have iced tea or a mocktail. On second thought, it’s probably better not to go to a bar. They don’t allow minors inside.”
“There we go. That’s the joke I’m looking for.”
We laughed as Deen drove out of Eloyce University. Just gal pals going to lunch with their friends. Nothing to see here, people. Move along.
The traffic slowed to a crawl as we drove along Romeo Drive, the busiest shopping street in the city. Deen turned to me while we stopped in front of a red light. “Erind?”
“No, we’re not shopping here,” I said. “The others are already waiting for us at Cindy’s.”
Good call by Dario not to meet at New Hope. It’d be super sketchy if someone saw us heading there; we’d have to assume that we were being tailed. Tower Cop already knew that we were connected, so there should be nothing suspicious about our gathering at a restaurant. I’d just tell Tower Cop that I continued to pretend to be friends with Myra and Reo because I was afraid of the PCM.
“It’s not about shopping,” Deen said. “It’s… Do you remember what we talked about a couple of days ago? About your… You mentioned that your Blanchette transformation affected you. Becoming more aggressive and, erm…”
“Killing and eating people. No need to skirt around the issue, Deen. But it only happens when I’m Blanchette, not when I’m Pino. And I’ve learned how to control it. You even rode me when we escaped the PCM base. I had zero desires to eat you.”
“Why not? I’m delicious!” Deen grinned.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I’ll take a bite out of you next time I turn into Blanchette.”
“I’m just kidding. I’d rather that you not turn into Blanchette. Use Pino and boost me instead. I don’t want you killing people.”
I’ll have you kill people in my stead, I thought. “I won’t use Blanchette unless it’s very necessary. Anyway, it’s difficult not being able to talk. But there are no problems at all when it comes to control.”
“Don’t hesitate to tell me if you have problems, okay? Like, if the Adumbrae inside you is starting to influence you, or if you feel that you’re not you anymore. I’m here to support and help you…always.”
“I know you are,” I said, smiling at her. “And I appreciate it.”
-----
As we pulled into the parking area of Cindy’s, we spotted some of the hero-wannabe gang—Myra, Everett, and Reo. They sat around a table outside the restaurant, hiding beneath a bright red patio umbrella. It was quite hot, an odd day in contrast to the usual mildly warm February weather.
Sporting a disheveled hair that looked like a black mop plopped on top of his head, Everett waved at us. He wore a fitting navy blue shirt, highlighting the sculpted muscles he worked hard for. Not sure how he worked out now that he had superstrength. Lifting regular weights at the gym wouldn’t be a challenge for his muscles. Maybe lifting boulders would do it?
“Good morning, Deen,” said Everett, giving her a hesitant wave as we approached. “Oh, and Erind, too.”
Everett liked liked my best friend. Something that might prove useful someday. Everett Hamza, codename: Emcee, had the ability to transform calories into heat with super efficiency. I imagined it was like a burger fueling a huge blaze. Turning Everett against Dario rested on Deen.
“And ‘Erind, too’, what?” Reo said with a snort.
“Good morning, too, Erind.” Everett nodded at me before returning his gaze to Deen like she was some eyeball magnet. Which she actually was.
“Had a hard time spotting Erind, eh? Is it hard to see given that she’s just right there?”
“What are you on about? I greeted both of them.”
“Sure, you did, pal.” Reo smiled at us. “Ohayou, Erind, Deen. Huh, it’s lunchtime already. Don’t know what the appropriate Japanese greeting is for this.”
Reo Hinode—codename: Oberon, the king of fairies, something stupid like that—didn’t tie his long black hair in a ponytail as usual. Surprising how silkily straight his hair was; he’d fit right in a shampoo commercial. He let a curtain of black fall over the left side of his thin face, covering half of his Japanese features.
I couldn’t recall whether it was his father or mother who was Japanese. He must’ve shared his backstory at some point, a sad one probably, but it wasn’t worth a shelf in my memory. It wouldn’t be too far off to guess it had something to do with Adumbrae and loved ones, losing the latter to the former.
His powers involved kneeling on the ground and chanting random stuff to summon tiny fairies. While the summoning method was cumbersome, the fairies had distinct, useful abilities. One was a scouting fairy. Another could fight, shredding enemies to pieces. And the last one that I knew of could control a knocked-out person. He mentioned he had four fairies. What could the power of the fourth be?
Reo had the potential to be useful, but he was too unstable. Might be better to immediately kill him when we would revolt against Dario. I did know where he lived.
“Hey, guys,” Myra said, eyes on her phone. She had to pretend that the 4Bs weren’t a thing. She must also be worried about leaving Kelsey alone in their apartment.
Myra Fletcher, codename: Merge, didn’t actually have the power to merge with objects. Instead, she absorbed inorganic materials to turn them into armor. Though she was on our side, her priority was Kelsey. She’d easily betray us if it’d be for Kelsey’s benefit.
“Have a seat, ladies,” Reo said. “Don’t be shy. Dario’s inside ordering food for all of us. The best unhealthy junk that Cindy’s has to offer.”
“Johann went inside because Dario always forgets he doesn’t want pickles in his burger,” Myra added. “If you guys want anything, you can tell Dario. He’s right at the counter now.” She jabbed her thumb at the window wall behind her.
“We’re good with anything,” I said, taking a seat. “Deen, any dietary restrictions for the upper class?”
“I-I can eat a burger,” Deen stiffly said. “Or pizza. I don’t have any preferences.”
“Greasy and fatty goodness for everyone,” Reo said. “What have you two been up to lately? Me, my life sucks in general and in specifics.”
“Um, my mom is in town for a visit,” I said, establishing an alibi. I was busy entertaining mom as the dutiful daughter, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy in this crazy world. Surely, I couldn’t be Red Hood and Pino as well.
“I joined Erind and her mom shopping,” said Deen.
“What was that, Everett?” Reo asked. “You’re telling me that you want to join—”
“Shut up, dude.” Everett elbowed him.
After five minutes of chitchat, Dario and Johann arrived with the food. Dario said in his ever-serious voice, “I got three pizzas. I don’t know their flavors; I just pointed randomly at the menu and agreed with the cashier.” It was a casual sentence, but the intensity of his eyes and his permanently guarded expression made it sound like he was reading an obituary of an esteemed veteran.
Dario Scumbag, codename: Blank, was the leader of our group, and our only connection to the mysterious Professor and the organization that made the artificial Cores. Standing slightly taller than Deen, he had blond hair that was lighter than hers. Baggy clothes hid his fit body, but his posture hinted that he had some form of military training.
Asshole supreme had this headache field, which made anyone entering it have debilitating migraines. He could also ‘blank out’ people, stunning them upon touch. I think he could also erase memories to some extent. Wait, that was the reason for his codename.
Fortunately, his abilities were minor inconveniences to my Blanchette form. And they certainly wouldn’t affect my Pino body.
“I also got the group bundle,” Dario continued. “Assorted burgers and fries.”
“And large smoothies.” Johann placed down a tray with seven tall cups. “We got all chocolate. No one has any complaints with chocolate, right?”
Johann was tall and lanky, the tallest of our group, a walking bamboo with clothes. His face was more on the stoic side compared to Dario’s utter seriousness. He was the only human out of all of us. Something about incompatibility with artificial Cores. Could be a bullshit story, and he was just afraid of abandoning his humanity.
He was our eyes and ears at the police. Works as a technician was what I’d heard. His usual role in missions was to drive the vehicle, and so, his codename was ‘Ride’.
“Wow, everything looks so healthy,” Myra said in a sarcastic tone.
“Should we even care about what we eat?” said Reo. “I could drink a gallon of beef tallow and be completely healthy. Eh, healthy is probably not the word I’m looking for. Alive. I’ll survive a gallon of beef tallow.”
“Deen’s watching her diet,” I said.
“I’m really fine with any food,” Deen said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. She looked like a celebrity dining with her fans, pretending to like the ‘normal’ food they eat. “I’ll eat whatever you guys are eating.”
“I’m not eating pickles,” said Johann. “That’s my only rule on food.”
Dario distributed the food as the group continued the charade of being a normal group of friends. After everything settled down, Dario checked our surroundings, confirmed that no one could overhear us, and proclaimed we should start the meeting.
“Reo, tell them what you told me,” Dario said. “Everyone, continue pretending that we’re having a chill time.”
Reo started with riding home from work yesterday, omitting Myra’s call. He must’ve forgotten about it given what happened afterward.
Myra’s task was to check where Reo was. She assured us that there was no way Reo would actually help her look for Kelsey at that time. Certain that Reo was on his way to his rented place, Myra used her powers to form a key to open his locked door and brought me inside. It was a cheap place with no security cameras.
That was one of the most fun faces I had ever worn. And Reo’s face when I started moving was pure comedy. Well, it was funny for me. Definitely not for him. Too bad I didn’t have time to prepare lines and stuff.
I smiled when I noticed that Reo didn’t include that part where he told me that I should go to Myra or Deen instead. It was his story; he wanted to make himself look good a bit.
“I have plenty of questions,” Dario said after Reo finished his story. “Don’t hesitate to contribute to our discussion, okay? First things first, what does Red Hood want with the PCM data?”