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Buy-In 1.1

Buy-In - The initial investment a poker game or poker tournament player must make to receive their starting chips.

As I trudged into Winslow on Monday morning, the weather matched my mood: gray, cold, and life-sucking. Spring had started a few weeks ago, yet winter refused to go away; I'd left the house wearing gloves and a heavy coat and still felt like the wind was carving gashes into me.

While the temperature improved once I stepped inside, my mood didn't. The population of Winslow remained as lethargic as always this early in the morning, but that didn't mean someone wouldn't jump at the chance to knock me down a peg. Thus, I kept marching toward my homeroom, making sure not to meet anyone's gaze as I walked.

Then Emma revealed herself from around a corner. Maybe I should have turned around after seeing her. I didn't see who precisely stuck out their leg, but their identity didn't matter: I tripped and hit the ground all the same.

"Wow, Taylor! I didn't realize you were so clumsy," Emma said, her smirk audible in her voice.

Several of her cronies laughed right on cue. I got up and kept walking, having realized there was no way to win long ago. If I ignored them, they continuously escalated until I couldn't take it anymore. If I lashed out, I'd get punished for hurting them, and while they might not get off scot-free their punishment would be a joke compared to mine. The only option that consistently worked was avoiding them, and that was difficult at best because they always sought me out whenever they wanted or needed a punching bag, which was often.

Fortunately, I suffered no other 'accidents' before homeroom. After arriving a few minutes before the opening bell, I entered a half-full classroom of half-asleep classmates and plopped down at my desk, ignoring the stares I'd gotten used to by now. My backpack stayed in front of me. Leaving it out of sight was a recipe to have something stolen from it, perhaps even the whole bag if the perpetrator was gutsy enough, and I had limited funds to replace anything I lost this way. Best not to take chances.

The morning crawled by as it always did, homeroom filling up as Mrs. Knott kept half an eye on the room. She marked people present when they arrived, but otherwise paid us little attention. Then the bell rang, and to my surprise, Mrs. Knott strode to the front of the room instead of remaining at her desk like usual.

"Today, I'm breaking the tradition of having nothing to announce during homeroom," Mrs. Knott said. "A new student will be joining us for the remainder of the year. She asked to be allowed to introduce herself, so she will be doing just that. She was finishing some paperwork in the office last I checked, but she should be here any minute."

As soon as Mrs. Knott finished speaking, the classroom door swung open and our new classmate entered. She was a girl and a very pretty one at that. She was about average in height, with long, straight black hair that fell almost to her waist, vibrant brown eyes, and a wide smile that appeared all sunshine and rainbows. She wore a simple red dress and black shoes, and her posture was so ramrod-straight it looked like her spine had been replaced by a steel cable. Definitely the popular girl type back home if how she was looking at us meant anything; hopefully, she wouldn't get as bad as Emma, Sophia, and Madison did.

"Hello, everyone," the girl said, her English noticeably accented but otherwise solid. "My name is Yumeko Jabami, and I moved to Brockton Bay a few weeks ago. I hope you will accept me as your new classmate, and I'd love to get to know you better."

As many of my classmates erupted into furious whispering, Yumeko bowed and took a seat at the empty desk to my left. Not a surprise, since it was the only available desk in the room, but it'd get my classmates' attention nonetheless. I idly wondered how long it would take for her to join the rest of the class in ignoring or taunting me. Probably about two weeks. Maybe less.

Mrs. Knott returned to her usual seat, and the rest of homeroom passed in relative peace. With everyone focused on Yumeko, it meant they had little attention to spare on me, for which I was grateful. Being ignored wasn't great by any means, but it was volumes better than their usual treatment of me.

The bell sounded far too soon. I left slowly enough not to draw attention, but quickly enough to get somewhere. As long as I was in the halls, getting hemmed in for a potential prank or attack remained a hazard. Emma, Sophia, and Madison were always planning, and if they weren't planning, they were up to something. Making myself an easier target than necessary wasn't on my agenda.

"Hey!"

I heard someone's voice behind me, but I kept walking. They were talking to someone else.

"Hey, wait up!"

The voice sounded much clearer this time, but I ignored it once more. I was about to break into a run when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I whirled around, half expecting a trap, a prank, or even a punch. Instead, Yumeko stood right behind me, her cheeks pink. Between that and her heavy breathing, she'd expended far more effort than just about anyone else would to catch up with me. Most of the other students in the hallway must have made the same conclusion because they stopped whatever they were doing to stare at us. No one said anything, perhaps too afraid of embarrassing themselves in front of an unknown, but the implications were determinable without words. "You're seriously cozying up to Locker Girl? Girl, you can do better than her."

She didn't seem to have any tricks up her sleeve, but that didn't make the situation much better. "Was that really necessary?"

Yumeko didn't seem too bothered. "My apologies for that. I didn't think you heard me and that was the first thing I thought of. Your name is Taylor, right?"

I nodded. No reason to lie about something that simple.

"Good, you're who I'm looking for," Yumeko said. "If you have time to spare today, would you mind showing me around? I still have a lot to learn about this place."

That seemed suspect; Winslow wasn't that big a building. From what little I remembered of my freshman-year tour of the building, it didn't have much to offer besides the obvious. That sounded like bait to lure me somewhere secluded. "They didn't show you around before you enrolled?"

Yumeko giggled a bit, then shook her head. "Well, they gave me a tour, but it felt way too glamorized, and it was on a weekend so the school was empty."

She leaned in closer before I could respond, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I'd like someone willing to show me all the worst Winslow has to offer. No offense meant, but given how I've heard everyone's been treating you, I'd bet you've seen plenty of it."

That answer had not been on my radar. She hadn't picked me as her tour guide in spite of my status, she'd done so because of it. Why she'd need someone with my reputation remained a mystery, but a few possibilities manifested without too much effort.

Was she part of an elaborate scheme to humiliate me again? Possibly. Unless she'd met with the usual suspects before school somehow, they probably weren't behind it, but plenty of people could have put her up to this.

Was she a potential gang member scoping out Brockton Bay's other criminal elements? Maybe. Yumeko seemed a bit too straight-laced to be involved with one, but looks could be deceiving and I knew little about their initiation procedures.

Was she just someone who wanted to know what to expect during her stint at Winslow? Discounting paranoia, this was the most likely option. No one with a brain between their ears thought Winslow was an easy school to survive in, at least by the standards of Brockton Bay. Getting advice from someone who'd been through much of what Winslow had to offer wasn't the worst decision she could make.

The rational part of my brain caved; I wouldn't know unless I tried. "How about during lunch? We have a full hour, so we'll have time to eat after we finish."

"That sounds lovely," Yumeko said. "Thank you. Is meeting by the cafeteria entrance okay?"

I nodded once more.

"Then I'll see you at lunch," Yumeko said. Once she finished her sentence, she disappeared into the mob of students packing the halls, leaving me to get to first period alone, as always. The students who'd stopped to watch our conversation began moving toward their first class of the day, but even as I did the same I still felt eyes on my back.

It disappointed me that skipping my lunch break felt like the sensible alternative, especially since most of the teachers didn't allow eating during class. At least it meant a break in routine. Worst came to worst, I'd find a bench somewhere and eat my lunch before I came home; I'd be hungry the rest of the day but a seat in the park, overlooking the ocean, or even in my room at home all beat the girls' bathroom by a mile.

Thankfully, I didn't run into anyone else in the hall before I made it to my first-period class. With a few minutes free before I had to write anything down, as soon as I had my things set I allowed my mind to wander.

The last time I'd looked forward to a lunch period had been in middle school, before Emma had turned into the bitch I knew now. And that was with me making my own lunches, so I had no complaints about the food itself. (I'd tried Winslow's cafeteria food on a whim once; it was edible, but my compliments ended there.). Good fortune didn't come my way often these days; hoping this was the start of something bigger was ill-advised, but I did so anyway.

Still, hope wasn't a substitute for reality. This would only be temporary. Even if she somehow wanted to be my friend, I doubted that sentiment lasted too long given my reputation and track record. She'd join the rest of the school eventually. I'd have to enjoy someone else's company while it lasted.

Buy-In 1.2

When the bell rang at the end of World Issues, I almost knocked Mr. Gladly over in my haste to get to the cafeteria. Wanting to stay ahead of the crowd, I took the most efficient route I could and speed-walked the whole way there, only slowing down for the final straightaway. No one tried anything on me, and for that I was grateful.

Once the cafeteria was finally in sight, my hopes reignited. Yumeko leaned against the far wall about five feet from the cafeteria doors, other students streaming around her in their pursuit of lunch. About a minute later, when that stream had reduced to a trickle, Yumeko approached, her smile uplifting my mood several notches.

Yumeko spoke first. "Thanks again for agreeing to give me the tour. So, how's your day been?"

"My day was fine," I said, which for once wasn't a lie. During the first three periods, I hadn't been hit with anything worse than snide remarks; between that and my upcoming tour, this was shaping up to be one of the best days I'd had all year. "What about you?"

"Pleasant enough, thank you," Yumeko said. "This school's definitely a unique experience."

"That's one way to describe it," I thought. Thankfully, those words stopped just short of my mouth; there was enough negative energy at Winslow without me adding to it. "So, where would you like me to start?"

Yumeko went for the obvious answer. "How about the cafeteria? We're already here."

I nodded; the cafeteria was as good a place to get started as any. I'd never had a consistent place to sit without being bothered, which was part of why I'd taken to eating lunch in the girls' bathroom, but it was open and easy to surveil, plus it was technically where I was supposed to be right now so no one could kick us out.

When we entered the cafeteria, the unfolding scene was about what I expected. While there were exceptions, for the most part the cafeteria separated itself into the usual cliques. The skinheads and Empire Eighty-Eight sympathizers/junior members all sat together in the corner of the cafeteria nearest to us. What was left of the Azn Bad Boys' junior members marked their territory in the opposite corner, quiet and huddled together as if for warmth. The popular kids, including Emma, Sophia, and Madison, sat clumped together in the center, chatting and laughing; they hadn't noticed me yet but it was only a matter of time. Almost everyone else not waiting in line for the school lunch either sat with a small group of close friends or kept their heads down. I pointed out each group as I saw them, Yumeko appearing to take notes on her phone as she did.

I made special note of the Azn Bad Boys, since Yumeko was a potential recruit for them even if her gender didn't match their name. "They're down real bad, so the odds they make a pass at you are pretty high. You know what to do if they approach you?"

Yumeko nodded. "Just say no, right?"

That sounded about right. "If they keep pushing, get the Protectorate or the police involved if you can. Winslow has security systems in theory but they haven't done anything for me, and the security guards are a joke."

"Good to know," Yumeko said. "I'll fend for myself."

As I scanned the cafeteria once more to make sure I didn't miss anything important, Emma looked up from her lunch, and her gaze met mine. I took that as the sign to move on. "How about I show you the rest of the school?"

"I'd love to see it," Yumeko said. I exited the cafeteria with no resistance, Yumeko tailing me. As far as I could tell, Emma hadn't followed us out, but that look could mean anything these days. I thought about sending some flies to scout ahead for me in case this tour was the setup for a trap, but even though the odds of getting caught were low I didn't want to risk outing myself before I'd even gone on patrol.

Thankfully, trap or no trap, the rest of the tour was easy enough. While I showed her all of Winslow's prominent landmarks, such as the dated auditorium, the ancient computer lab, and the half-empty library, I also brought attention to things her earlier tour guide never would have. Blind spots where it was easy for someone to ambush you without witnesses. Faculty members I wouldn't trust as far as I could throw. The best places to go if you needed to hide from someone. The security cameras that I'd bet money didn't work. The security guards who didn't even attempt to corral us back to the cafeteria. Yumeko occasionally asked a question or two, but otherwise she just took more notes, her fingers moving so fast they seemed to blur. It took about thirty minutes for me to cover what I knew of the school, and I was pleased that I didn't feel even a bit winded by all the walking and stairs once I'd finished; my runs were starting to pay off.

"Don't take my words for gospel, I don't know everything," I finished as we began the trek back to the cafeteria. "This is just what I know. Hopefully, that should be enough for you to make it through the rest of the year unscathed."

"Some information is better than none," Yumeko said.

I agreed. Of course, having full control of the situation was preferable, but that didn't happen often anymore; anything I could control or obtain remained precious.

We began to circle back toward where we started, but I'd clearly drained my reservoir of luck dry. A bit less than halfway there, Emma, Sophia, and Madison stepped out from behind a corner, blocking the only way to the stairwell. Unfortunately, my usual strategy of avoiding them until the bell rang wasn't an option here, since leaving Yumeko alone with them felt exponentially worse than just taking my lumps.

Thus, I switched to Plan B. Going on the offensive didn't make my odds much better, but it was all I could think of. "Don't you three have somewhere to be?"

Sophia's grin went switchblade-sharp. "Don't you have a bathroom stall to be eating in?"

"Oh, Sophia, don't be ridiculous, Taylor's not eating in there," Emma said. "I mean, she's definitely jilling off. Why else would she be hiding in the bathroom during lunch?"

Madison made several exaggerated sex moans in time with suggestive motions, causing Emma and Sophia to crack up. Nothing I said here wouldn't just give them another comeback, so I clammed up. Yumeko's expression didn't change, but at least she didn't laugh with them. I'd take what I could get.

Once her laughter subsided, Emma addressed Yumeko. "I know you're new here, so I'll cut you some slack for now, but if you value your reputation, Taylor's not your friend. She isn't anyone's friend, and there's a reason for that. I ditched her as soon as I started here and everything's looked up for me since."

Yumeko didn't seem too convinced. "I'll make friends with whoever I please, thank you very much. And might I ask why you care so much about how I live my life?"

"We're just telling it like it is," Madison said.

"Well, so am I," Yumeko said. "If your opinions bothered me, I don't think I'd be here."

Sophia breathed deep. "Last chance, new girl. Play by our rules or you will regret it later."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Yumeko said. "She's been way more helpful than any of you have been. Besides, I have my own standards, and to say none of you meet them would be just a bit of an understatement."

Sophia's fists clenched at her sides and her cheeks flushed, but Emma got in front of her before things could escalate any further, then whispered something into Madison's ear. I didn't hear what it was, but after Emma finished, Madison took Sophia's hand and the two of them began walking down the stairs, presumably to return to the cafeteria.

"You know what? I'm not going to stop you," Emma said. "You made your choice, now you get to live with it." Once she finished, she spun on her heel and joined her friends.

"Have a great day," Yumeko called after them. I saw Emma flinch, but she didn't rise to the bait, instead disappearing from view.

Whether or not I could stop Yumeko in the future remained in question, but it was my duty to at least warn her about what she'd done. "I'm going to be straight with you: those three are the queen bees of the school. Emma's dad is a lawyer and Sophia is a track star, so they can get away with murder. You don't have to defend me, and go against them at your own peril."

"Don't worry about me," Yumeko said. "I can take care of myself. If they underestimate me, that's their problem."

As heartwarming as that sentiment was, reality wasn't that kind. Any further attempts at dissuading her seemed doomed to fail, but at least I'd tried.

Yumeko checked her phone, then broached the next topic for me. "We still have twenty minutes left before break ends. Do you want to have lunch together?"

"Thanks for offering, but I'm still full from breakfast," I said. That was a lie, I was starving. However, I'd had my fill of Trio encounters for the day, and entering the cafeteria was just asking for something nasty to happen at this point. I hoped my stomach didn't growl loud enough to give me away.

"No worries," Yumeko replied. "In that case, I'll see you tomorrow in homeroom!"

She began walking toward the cafeteria, leaving me with a smile. Even with the interruption, this qualified as the best thing that had happened to me since… the incident. If she actually looked forward to seeing me again and her statement wasn't just for show, then I'd just made the closest thing I had to a friend at Winslow.

In that moment, I made another decision. I'd been training physically and mentally for months, I'd assembled everything I'd need for a night on the town, and after a few weeks of finagling my costume was finally ready. I felt ready to be a hero. Most importantly of all, I wanted to keep this good feeling going.

Tonight, I'd hit the streets for my first patrol.

Buy-In 1.3

My bedside clock showed midnight, yet I still hadn't left the house. I'd been psyching myself up for this moment ever since I first got out of the hospital, but now that Dad had gone to sleep I was struggling to go through with it. I hadn't told him anything: not about the bullying, not about my trigger, not about my heroic future. The time never felt right, but every day that passed only strengthened that sensation and I knew it wouldn't get any better.

For a while, I'd shoved those thoughts down: it wasn't like Mom's death hadn't affected him too: those first few months in particular had been rough. He seemed to have moved on, but some days were still much worse than others. He had enough problems himself without needing to worry about mine. Thus, my preparation finished without going any further down that path.

I double-checked my bag for everything I'd put together for this night, marking items off a hastily made checklist as I found them. Pepper spray in case my bugs didn't do enough to someone. A hammer in case brute force became my only choice. A first-aid kit to patch myself or someone else up. Two energy drinks and a bag of trail mix to keep me awake. Fifty dollars in cash to purchase anything I deemed missing, including a dollar in quarters in case I needed to use a pay phone for some reason. Apart from the costume itself, I didn't come up with anything else I couldn't do without, so I packed everything once more, swung my bag over one shoulder, and began creeping down the hall.

A glance into the other bedroom revealed Dad asleep and snoring; maybe he'd notice when I came home but he definitely wouldn't notice me leaving. However, after slipping down the stairs, I paused right before the front door. Did I actually want to do this? Would it be worth it?

That conclusion came a few seconds later. If it meant I could do some good for the world, then yes. A thousand times yes.

Taking one last deep breath, I threw the door open, stepped out into the night air, and closed it behind me before breaking into a casual jog.

I'd worn gloves and the exercise kept most of me warm, but the wind blowing against my face felt like sandpaper. Considering the morning's chill, the night made it ten times worse: it had to be below freezing out. Brockton Bay could get frosty in the winter, so it wasn't even that bad by comparison, but most of us just wanted a taste of summer after so much cold.

That wasn't at the forefront of my mind for long, though. Another benefit of my weekly runs was that reaching my destination took less time than expected, especially after I passed the Boardwalk. After that, I cut out the idle thoughts in favor of gathering bugs and checking for threats.

The Docks manifested gradually, like the flu; within two blocks my surroundings changed from a middle-class neighborhood to a middle-class neighborhood that had been bombed weekly for the past year. Shadows covered every surface, the darkness so thick I could barely see to the end of the block. Most of the windows in the area were some combination of barred, broken, and boarded up. The few people I saw wandering the streets were looking for trouble as intensely as I was, so I gave them a wide berth and stayed out of sight whenever possible. This remained true for a few more blocks, then the Docks' messy exterior was left behind and its much more organized interior loomed before me, not in its appearance but in the people there.

Now that I'd reached my destination, I needed to do what I'd come here for. Ducking behind a half-full dumpster and checking twice to ensure no one could see me, I put on my costume, keeping half an eye on the narrow slits of visibility someone else might have behind the dumpster. Thankfully, I emerged without incident and thus began what I hoped to be my first night of heroism.

The patrols I'd expected arrived in simple groups of two or three, though their demographics diverged from the norm. What remained of the Azn Bad Boys had been lying low recently; their new leader (identity still unknown) didn't seem keen on terrorizing the populace nearly as much as Lung had. However, their apparent decline left a power vacuum for the other gangs to fill, and the Empire Eighty-Eight in particular pounced on the opportunity. Now, men and women with shaved heads, white robes, and/or swastika tattoos pounded the streets where bandanna-clad Asian men and women had before.

I only saw a few of these men and women, though, and no known Empire capes. Kaiser seemed content to keep most of his forces in his original territory, only leaving a few guards in the area to protect against potential incursions by his rivals. Maybe he thought Coil and the Merchants weren't worth it so long as they weren't actively attacking.

It took a lot of restraint not to try my hand at it myself. Given their repugnant ideology, it'd be cathartic to take down as many Empire Eighty-Eight goons as I saw, but I wanted to do it right. As horrible as they were, I couldn't attack them unprovoked without getting branded as a criminal myself. Once I had a reason, though, I wouldn't hold back; they wouldn't do that for me, and taking the high road could easily get me killed.

The first hour or so of patrol gave me no surprises. On occasion, some of the Empire Eighty-Eight members gave me a look like they were debating whether or not to attack me, but either they thought I was one of them or didn't see me as worth the trouble, so they left me alone and I did the same for them. Many of these groups carried a flashlight with them, so for a while, my patrol devolved into following the pools of light to ensure nothing heinous was going on, which was proven true again and again.

Then, right as I'd deluded myself into thinking I'd have a mundane first patrol, I heard the unmistakable bang of a gunshot. Even in the unlikely scenario Miss Militia had entered the area and was breaking up a disturbance, that noise couldn't mean anything good. While most rational people would flee the situation, I did the opposite; how could I call myself a hero if I ran away from the first incident I knew about?

Half a block later, I found what appeared to be the source of the disturbance around a corner, illuminated by a powerful flashlight; every alarm bell I had went off as I took in the situation. Three skinheads, all muscular men armed with various weapons up to and including guns, were backing a lone girl into an alley. The girl was also packing heat and hadn't bothered to hide it, so her situation wasn't a lost cause yet, but I'd heard about incidents like these far too many times to hope this ended well. I didn't approach yet, since I worked best at range, but I found a nearby hiding spot behind an unmanned newspaper stand and began gathering my insects for a tactical strike.

As I prepared for an ambush, one of the skinheads started talking; to ensure I wasn't somehow misinterpreting the current situation, I listened in. "Put the gun down, little girl. This is Empire turf, filth like you doesn't belong here."

"You're pointing a gun at me too, dipshits," the girl said, her voice somehow devoid of fear. "And this isn't your turf no matter how hard you pretend. I'd recommend you fuck off now, then none of us will need to waste any more perfectly good bullets."

No matter how confident that girl sounded, with guns involved my goal was to de-escalate the situation as fast as possible. Someone's life could end with one pull of a trigger; even if I could inform the Protectorate with my latent psychic powers they'd never arrive in time. I was pretty confident in pinning the skinheads as the aggressors, so they'd go first, but I'd need to watch out for the girl too in case she wasn't any better.

"No bullet's a waste if it takes down a freak like you," one of the skinheads spat. "If you want to walk out of here, I recommend holding your tongue."

The girl chuckled. "If you want to insult me, you're going to need to try harder. My freak flag's been flying for a long time, and petty assholes like you wish you could be freaks like me. You want to have killing me on your conscience? I'd like to see you fucks try."

"Oh, fuck you," the closest skinhead to her replied, leveling his gun at her. "Stay back, guys, I got this bitch."

If that wasn't a cue that I had seconds before things turned deadly, nothing was. Now or never.

At my command, every enthralled insect in my arsenal flew or crawled toward the skinhead trio, my senses thrumming as they did. With the light focused more on the girl in front of them than anything coming behind them, my swarm advanced without anyone noticing until it was almost on top of them. One of the men had just enough time to point and scream before impact, but they could do little more than turn around and cover their eyes as the insects touched down.

My swarm cascaded over the skinheads, a tidal wave of insects threatening to sweep them away, biting and stinging and otherwise hurting the skinheads. In barely a second, two of them had been disarmed, the pain causing them to drop their weapons. However, the man with the gun was just a hair too fast. Right before his arm spasmed and sent the gun skittering down the alley, he aimed at me and pulled the trigger as I attempted to dive out of the way.

The sound of the man's gun firing threatened to blow out my eardrums, a painful burst that resonated far longer than it should have. However, that was immediately dwarfed by the explosion of pain that ripped through my left leg as the bullet grazed it. For a split second, all other thought processes shut down and it took everything I had not to scream bloody murder.

At that moment, I realized that no matter how much mental and physical training I'd put in to get myself ready for this scenario, nothing could have ever prepared me for it except jumping right in.

---

Buy-In 1.4

Somehow, I got back to my feet and didn't immediately resort to hopping on one leg. However, the jolt caused me to lose control of my swarm and grit my teeth against the pain. It didn't mean that much, though; a good chunk of the insects were still firmly clamped to or stinging my targets and had no intent to let go.

Fortunately enough, my loss of control didn't matter; by the time I regained control of the insects in the area, the fight looked pretty much over. The two I'd initially disarmed were both rolling around trying to crush the insects on them while screaming their lungs out. The other girl had moved our enemies' weapons behind her in the chaos before pointing her gun at the skinhead who'd just shot at me. However, instead of shooting him, she buried a bullet in the ground six feet away as he collapsed, howling in pain. With the situation firmly in hand, I pulled the surviving insects back, though I kept them in range in case the skinheads somehow still had some fight left in them.

Before I could close the gap or say anything, the other girl took charge, marching up to the least injured of the three. "As much as I'd love to play some more, I suggest you fuck off. This is not your turf, and my next shot won't be aimed to miss."

The odds were technically still three to two, but perhaps realizing a brawl with a gun-toting tough girl and a parahuman who'd just incapacitated all of them was unlikely to work out in their favor, the man on the ground listened to those instructions. He helped both his friends stagger to their feet, then they hobbled down the street like competitors in the slowest four-legged race I'd ever seen. My companion kept her pistol trained on them until they disappeared around a corner.

I approached the girl on unsteady legs, just in case she still needed my help. "Are you okay?"

"Better than ever," she responded.

I presumed the girl was a fellow cape, but I didn't know for sure yet: she didn't wear much of a costume. Black clothing covered her from the neck down, presumably to help her better blend into the shadows. She wore something over her eyes so I couldn't see what color they were, and her mouth was hidden behind a cheap mask like the kind used in hospitals, but that was as far as she went to obscure her identity. Her hair, as dark as her clothing, hung loose around her shoulders, she had several piercings in each ear, and her cheeks were bright red from the cold. The only stylistic choice she'd made was something around her neck, which on closer look appeared to be a literal dog collar.

Before I could size her up any further, the other girl addressed me. "Look, girl. That was fucking cool, but I really didn't need the help. I had everything handled!"

That provided further evidence of her being a cape, but I pressed anyway. "You sure? I definitely wouldn't have been able to take down all three of them with just a gun."

"But none of those fucks knew how I worked," the other cape said. "Watch this."

She produced a knife from one of her costume's pockets and pulled up her sleeve, and before I could stop her, she slashed her arm, grinning like a loon as the blood started spurting. I opened my mouth to ask her if she needed the first-aid kit, but before I could say anything, she'd used her other arm to point to the injury. Within fifteen seconds, her stab wound had disappeared like she'd scrubbed her arm with a magic eraser.

"Oh, that's good," the newly confirmed cape said, followed by a deep, shuddering sigh. Then she resumed talking, her volume increasing as she went. "I get better real fast, and pain helps me focus. Unfortunately, if I use it too much, then it starts feeling way too fucking good, and then all I want is more. Then it just builds and builds and—"

Before she got too far into the weeds, I started a new line of dialogue; I wasn't about to kink-shame the person who could have saved my life, but that was not the conversation I wanted to have at two in the morning. "If you can do all that, then what's the gun for? Most capes don't use those."

"It's mostly for show, I don't like using it on anyone else," she said, her volume returning to normal. "Today was an exception, since I wanted to make a point."

What point she wanted to make other than that it was unwise to mess with her escaped me, but before I even had to ask, she provided the necessary clarification.

"They think that just because Lung and Oni Lee are gone the ABB just rolled over and died," my companion said. "They're wrong; the ABB may be no more, but the Beautification Committee rose from its ashes and is stronger than ever. We're here to stay, and we're going to clean up this fucking city if it's the last thing we do. Anyone who gets in our way… you're smart, you can fill in the blanks."

Taking her words at face value, Brockton Bay was now home to what sounded like a vigilante organization, and one I'd never heard of before to boot. In theory that at least sounded like an improvement over the ABB, but in practice they could be just as bad if not worse. I'd withhold judgment on the Beautification Committee as a whole until I had more information, though.

Maybe I could get something out of her now. "Are you guys new?"

"Close enough," the girl said. "Fuck, I'm new enough I got to pick my own name. You know how often that shit happens? Basically never."

She gestured to her collar. I noticed a dog tag hanging off the left side, which read "PAIN GAINER" in spiky gold lettering. Perhaps I'd seen her mentioned once or twice on Parahumans Online, but if she'd only been here for a few months, I could easily be misremembering things.

"Well, that's my name," Pain Gainer said. "What about yours?"

Damn it, I hadn't thought of that yet; a bit of a critical oversight now that I remembered it. "This is my first time caping, I don't have one yet."

"Well, then I suggest you fucking figure one out," Pain Gainer said. "News travels fast, and if the PRT isn't trying to pin one on your ass, someone else is. Being stuck with a shitty name you didn't pick hurts like a bitch, don't waste the opportunity."

I nodded in agreement; while not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, getting stuck with a terrible name wouldn't be fun.

"Well, I enjoyed the chat, but I'm going to go find more skinheads to thrash," Pain Gainer said. "Maybe we won't meet again, new girl, but I'd have a name ready next time if we do."

Pain Gainer jogged the same way the skinheads had gone, quickly fading into the night. Now that I was alone again, after a quick check to ensure no one else planned to ambush me and a few minutes spent gathering insects again as a precautionary measure, I had time to assess my gunshot wound.

While my leg throbbed badly, given that my first few steps caused no issues the injury wasn't as bad as I'd initially feared. I was going to have a huge bruise in the morning, but I could live with that; the Trio had given me way worse. It still meant my patrol was done for the night, but I could probably sneak home without getting found out.

I spent my return trip trying to come up with good cape names, but the adrenaline from the fight had worn off and my brain felt like mush, so I didn't make much progress on that. The fight I'd gotten involved in was small enough and in an isolated enough area that I doubted it'd be caught on camera, much less broadcast anywhere, so I probably had a bit more time. However, for all I knew, Pain Gainer was thinking the same thing, and I didn't trust her ability to name me given how blunt her name was.

That thought process distracted me from my more pressing problems. Even taking the most direct path back, my leg was throbbing hard by the time I reached the house; going on a run tomorrow was out of the question. None of the lights were on, so unless Dad wanted to ambush me I'd get to bed without any further issues.

Sure enough, I returned to my room in peace once I got inside. Dad's bedroom door was open, but he was still snoring; he wasn't that good an actor, so I'd gotten in and out without any trouble. It didn't mean that'd be the case every time, but one successful trip still beat zero. Setting my bag down as quietly as possible, I took off my costume and stowed it away, allowing me to see my injured leg in its full glory.

The armor on my costume had shielded me from the worst of the damage, but the sight still wasn't pretty. A gigantic bruise now dominated my left thigh, a small portion caked in dried blood from where the skin had been torn off. It wasn't pretty and had a high chance of scarring, but other than that it'd heal on its own.

I scrubbed the area as best as I could with a clean washcloth, gritting my teeth against the pain the whole time, before plundering my first-aid kit for Neosporin and a bandage large enough to cover the scab. After sticking it to my leg, I took a few steps to test how it felt, which thankfully wasn't that bad. I could tell the bandage was there, but it wouldn't impede my mobility at all.

With the adrenaline high having fully faded, I was left to retreat into my thoughts. I had school tomorrow, and until I felt comfortable patrolling again I'd have to return to my miserable norm. Now that I'd seen what I could do, that thought was almost unbearable; my only reassurance was that it wouldn't stay that way for long. With a little more hard work, I could become a hero, and I could solve my other problems from there.

Until then, though? I'd have to tough it out. I'd done it for almost two years now, a few days longer was nothing.

Even though I was exhausted enough to collapse into bed, sleep brought me no peace that night.

Buy-In 1.5

Walking into Winslow the next morning felt strange. The atmosphere hadn't changed from yesterday, but most of the things I'd worried about here paled in the face of my patrol the night before. Did the Wards feel like this every day? I hoped not.

Thankfully, my pants hid the bandage on my thigh. Even if someone was inclined to ask questions about my welfare, anyone who saw enough skin to discover it was getting a sneaker to the crotch. How Blackwell had dealt with my trip to the psych ward without getting the police involved was beyond me, but if she thought she could just repeat that process for an act that heinous, she had another thing coming.

I got to homeroom without incident this time; Emma, Sophia, and Madison were nowhere to be found. Once I entered Mrs. Knott's classroom, I noticed Yumeko sitting at the desk to my left. She waved, I waved back, and then I sat down. A weight I hadn't noticed before lifted off my shoulders; yesterday had made an impact after all.

"Hello, Taylor," Yumeko said. "Did you get up to anything interesting yesterday?"

"Nothing much," I lied. "What about you?"

Yumeko shrugged. "Me neither."

For a few minutes, we made small talk, the topics nothing particularly important but refreshing after the dirge of the past year and change. Homeroom filled up as usual. Mrs. Knott returned to her usual status of taking attendance but otherwise not paying attention.

Then, Yumeko steered the conversation in an unexpected direction, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Do you mind if we talk somewhere private before first period? I have something I need to tell you I don't want anyone else overhearing."

That got my attention. "Girl issues?"

"Close enough," Yumeko said.

With the wide spectrum that "girl issues" covered, that could mean anything from the Trio's antics to asking me if I had an emergency tampon she could use; I didn't quite know what I was getting into. However, her not treating me like shit afforded her more leeway than I gave most. "I don't know of anywhere one hundred percent private, but I'll see what I can find."

"I think I've got a place," Yumeko said. "Don't worry about that." She raised her hand to get Mrs. Knott's attention, and not sure what else to do, I did the same.

Some teachers were strict about bathroom breaks, but Mrs. Knott wasn't one of them, at least not here. That sentiment made sense, since it wasn't like I was missing anything. Thus, the two of us got permission to leave homeroom for a bathroom break, and after a quick check that we were marked present, we were off.

Yumeko didn't take me anywhere near as far as I expected; instead of some dusty corner of the school, she stopped at the closest girls' bathroom. She opened the door to let me in, then followed in behind me. Once the bathroom door closed behind her, though, I noticed an awkward sensation in the pit of my stomach. The bathroom was as desolate and silent as a graveyard, which struck me as weird. Normally there'd be lots of girls cleaning themselves up, putting on makeup, or even making shady deals. Today, however, we were the only two in the room.

Preparing to run for it in case this was some sort of pretense for an ambush, I started the conversation once more. "What did you need to talk with me about?"

Sure enough, the question led to an ambush, and an even worse one than I initially feared. "I'm talking about last night; from what I heard, you got up to quite a lot."

A steel vice gripped my lungs, the tightening of my chest causing my next sentence to escape my throat in a breathless jumble. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"If I were you, I wouldn't play coy," Yumeko said. "It doesn't suit you."

"About what?" If I gave an inch, she'd take a mile. Conceding anything unless she had iron-clad proof she wasn't just talking out of her ass wasn't going to work.

Yumeko's smile stiffened. "About the three Empire goons currently in the hospital due to being bitten by more insects than should ever exist in one place at a time. You read me now?"

Well, there went my plausible deniability. News of the incident hadn't made it online or to television yet from what I'd seen, and unless she had more luck than existed on the planet, that was way too specific a description for her to just be guessing. How she'd gotten those details remained in question, though. Had she been to the same hospital? Had Pain Gainer told her? Was she a cape with psychic abilities or something along those lines?

Wait, how did she even know that was me? For all she knew, that could have been anyone. "I don't know what you're talking about. Anyone could have done that! It's not like most capes reveal their civilian identities."

"The perpetrator was your height and had a matching hairstyle and hair color," Yumeko said. "I'm sure Brockton Bay has other people like that, but there can't be very many of them. Might I suggest you stop trying to hide what you are?"

Her being so insistent on the topic wasn't doing her any favors, but the evidence was so overwhelmingly against me now that going any further wasn't going to accomplish anything but make me look stupid. "How the hell did you figure all that out so fast?"

"Oh, I just had a theory based on what I heard last night, since the cape's features seemed similar to yours," Yumeko said, her tone back to what I'd remembered from yesterday. "Your body language told me everything I needed after that."

I didn't know it was possible to make this conversation more stressful, but Yumeko had found a way. This was steering into stormier waters by the second. At this point, I figured the best thing to do was convince her that I had nothing left to lose, because otherwise, she'd milk me for everything I had. "If you're trying to blackmail me, that's not going to work; forget money, I don't even have my dignity left at this point."

"Don't worry, I'm not a fan of blackmail," Yumeko said. "I'm just not that kind of girl. I don't even plan to tell anyone about it, and it should be pretty clear by now that I don't break easily."

That threw things even further out of whack. What was the point of telling me all this if she didn't want to do anything with it? "Then why are you even bringing it up?"

"That's a bit sensitive," Yumeko said. "The odds of a working camera being in here are pretty low, but I'd like to discuss that somewhere we're less likely to be overheard. Would you mind meeting after school at the Ruby Dreams Casino?"

That name sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on why. "That's in Brockton Bay, right?"

"On the outskirts, but it's not that far," Yumeko's reply came.

From a technical standpoint, I had two options, but for now I only had one. Whether I followed through with this or not, turning her down when she had all the power felt risky at best. Thus, I nodded. "If it's where you say it is, I'll do it."

"That's the spirit," Yumeko said.

The first bell rang, which got Yumeko's attention. "Well, I have to get to class, and I'm sure you do, too. You want to sit together for lunch, I'm sure you can find me. Otherwise, I'll see you tonight!"

Yumeko left me alone in the bathroom, and needing a moment to sit and think, I entered a stall and put the seat down before plopping down.

For the second day in a row, I had an off-the-books meeting with Yumeko on my calendar. This time, however, I dreaded it as much as I'd dreaded anything for the past few months, including every day of school thus far. It'd taken less than a day for our relationship to turn back on me; it was a sad state of affairs that I wasn't surprised.

Getting my identity revealed this early in the game would be the absolute worst case scenario, even discounting how Dad might react. While some capes could pull it off, such as Brockton Bay's very own New Wave, I didn't have New Wave's level of influence and had no desire to become one of them. Maintaining two separate identities was difficult enough. Having one conflated with the other sounded like it'd make all the usual problems of being a superhero ten thousand times worse.

What was I supposed to do? Take Yumeko up on her offer and see how things went? Turn myself in and let the Protectorate handle things? Take some time off patrolling and try to forget this ever happened?

Thinking through what Yumeko wanted from me seemed like the most logical step to take, so I got to thinking. If the Beautification Committee's goal was to exterminate parahumans, I doubted I'd be first on their list, and in that case, why would Pain Gainer be on their side? That brought up the possibility of a Master pulling the strings, but with the horrible reputation most Masters had, the odds of an undetected one were low even in a city as cape-heavy as Brockton Bay. Maybe their power came with the ability to mind-wipe their victims or alter memories, then? In that case, they'd be one of the most feared villains to ever live, and that brought back the earlier question of "why me?"

I shook my head. Overthinking this could be just as dangerous as not thinking about it, and jumping straight to the worst possible interpretations wasn't doing me any favors. Chances were she had straightforward intentions; she wanted some help, or maybe some vigilante justice, and she saw contacting an untethered cape as the best means of accomplishing that.

I forced myself to try and relax. I'd get out of my meeting with Yumeko just fine, then I'd move on with my life and try to figure out what the next steps were. That was all I needed to worry about for now.

Then the first period bell rang; I had to worry about getting to class, too, so I left the bathroom and began hurrying toward my first class of the day.

At the very least, no matter what today brought me, compared to what was coming up it didn't seem so bad. I'd take what I could get.

Buy-In 1.6

For once, school flew by. Perhaps Emma, Sophia, and Madison were more focused on getting Yumeko to submit than fulfilling my daily quota of suffering. Other than the classes we shared I neither saw nor heard them all day, and their efforts in those classes seemed halfhearted. Even when I ate lunch with Yumeko, sitting in the cafeteria for once, they hadn't done anything. Our location probably had something to do with that, though; Yumeko had picked a seat near the ABB's remnants, and judging by Sophia's expression when she saw that, she'd rather clean out my old locker with a straw than potentially get involved with them.

The cafeteria was so loud I'd even risked asking Yumeko to clarify what she'd meant earlier that day, but she'd stonewalled me. Maybe she thought someone would overhear it and out me to the school, or maybe she just didn't want to share the details yet. Either way, I left Winslow that day with no more information about her than I'd entered it with.

My trip home passed in a haze, everything between leaving school grounds and unlocking the front door escaping recollection. Dad acknowledged my entry but said nothing more as I set down my bag. He must have had a rough day at work, or maybe it was just a normal one, I rarely knew anymore. He probably thought the same about my day at school.

Seeing no point in beating around the bush, the first words out of my mouth that afternoon were the most important. "I'm going out to meet with a friend in a bit, is that okay?"

Dad's expression turned as sunny as I'd seen it all week. "That's great! I'm happy to hear you're making new friends. How'd you two meet?"

"She just moved here and she's in my homeroom," I said. "Her name's Yumeko. I'll see if I can have her over sometime."

"I'd love to meet her," Dad said back. "Stay in safe areas and be back at a reasonable hour, and I have no problem letting you go."

"Thanks, Dad," I said, retreating to my room. After I closed my door, I needed to take a few deep breaths to steady myself. I'd been holding things back during every conversation we'd had in the past… I didn't know how long anymore. Keeping secrets, especially ones this big and important, was exhausting, and I knew one day that something was going to break. Thankfully, it at least didn't seem to be today. Yet. Today, all I had left to worry about was my meeting with Yumeko.

It didn't take long to prepare. After ten minutes of online research about the Ruby Dreams Casino, I felt as ready to go as I was getting. After packing what I deemed most essential (snacks and drinks so I wouldn't get hungry or thirsty, enough money to pay the bus fare for the ride there and back plus some extra, and mace for an emergency), I waved goodbye to Dad, then started jogging toward the nearest bus stop.

Even with a map telling me where to go, the trip was a laborious task. Getting there took two bus lines and over an hour; by the time I reached my stop, the bus was all but deserted, and this meeting needed to wrap up quickly if I wanted to get home before the buses stopped running.

Finding the Ruby Dreams Casino once I got off the bus was much easier; the building glowed like a beacon under the sunset, its radiance beckoning all travelers to come and take a look. Its name was visible from a ways off, the blood-red letters flanked by gigantic, sparkling imitation rubies and hanging below three squares, two emblazoned with Asian lettering I didn't recognize and the last blank. However, the logo was the only thing I recognized from the pictures online. According to the casino's website, the building was undergoing renovations spearheaded by its new owner, so perhaps they'd started on the exterior first, but how they'd finished something of this magnitude this quickly remained a mystery.

As I moved to enter the casino, a large man wearing a black coat, presumably a member of the security staff, stepped in front of the door and blocked my way in. "Ma'am, I need to see your ID before you enter. I don't mean to be rude, but you don't look twenty-one yet."

"I'm not here to gamble, sir," I said, hoping that matching his formality would make him more likely to believe me. "A friend asked me to meet her here. Her name's Yumeko if you need to ask for her."

Once I said Yumeko's name, the security guard's expression changed to something that made my stomach turn, shock and awe and fear all at once. He made a visible attempt to compose himself, failed spectacularly, then addressed me again. "My apologies. In that case, I'll be with you in a second, ma'am."

There had to be something about Yumeko I was missing if just her name was enough to terrify someone. Maybe she had ties somewhere that either weren't public or I hadn't found yet. In that case, no wonder she saw the Trio as beneath her; grown men with strong constitutions feared her, so why would three teenagers matter?

The security guard relayed what I'd just told him into his walkie-talkie, requesting further instructions. Someone responded, but I didn't hear what they said; the man's walkie-talkie was too tinny to transfer noise effectively, perhaps on purpose. No matter what the response was, the security guard's action remained the same; he beckoned to me and began walking towards the front door. "Please follow me."

Seeing no sense in wasting the goodwill, I followed his instructions and entered the casino only a step behind him.

The inside of the casino was chillier than I expected; I took off my gloves but wasn't ready to part with my coat just yet. The entry hall was well-lit, a muted red carpet under my feet and paintings on each wall. We passed a bathroom and two restaurants on the way in, but my escort was moving so fast that I didn't get a chance to look into any of them for very long.

At the edge of the casino floor, the security guard stopped. I stopped with him, figuring Yumeko would meet me here and then we'd go… wherever she had planned. Somewhere less public, if nothing else. However, instead of Yumeko or another obvious security guard, we were next approached by a different girl about my age, albeit one wearing the same uniform as the security guard beside me. She resembled Yumeko quite a bit on a superficial level, but while Yumeko had been bubbly and bouncy, the first word that came to mind to describe this girl was stiff. Everything about her seemed carefully calculated, from her hairstyle to her jewelry to even her gait. Nothing was wasted, nothing was unnecessary. The only oddity was the weapon she wielded, which superficially resembled a gun; I didn't know casinos allowed those on the floor. Its orange-and-yellow color scheme seemed too cartoonish for the gun to be real, but given both Tinkertech and whacked-out gun nuts, for all I knew that gun fired smaller guns. I'd remain deferential as long as she was involved: no need to get her angry.

She addressed the security guard first. "I presume this is Yumeko's guest?"

"Yes indeed, Miss Igarashi," the security guard said.

Miss Igarashi, first name unknown, nodded. "Thank you for the clarification. You can return to your post, I'll escort her the rest of the way."

The security guard nodded and began retreating the way he came, while Miss Igarashi beckoned to me and started walking. I took that as my cue to make her my new guide.

I expected Yumeko to be somewhere on the main casino floor, but instead, we skirted along the outside, giving me a good view of what the casino had to offer its average patrons but not much else. The place seemed to be broken into sections; one portion appeared to be for poker, another had groups of slot machines clustered together, a third offered a variety of table games and a roulette wheel. None of the sections looked packed, but all of them were occupied: I knew little about casino economics but it looked like this place was doing well. Oddly enough, I didn't see any further construction, but maybe they were in portions of the casino I wouldn't get to see.

At the opposite end of the floor, we turned into a small hallway, Miss Igarashi stopping almost exactly in the middle. Then, she produced what looked like an ID card from her uniform and slid it into a slot in the wall I hadn't even noticed. Something inside the slot clicked, and without warning a door I'd never seen swung out from the mural on the wall. Miss Igarashi waited for a few seconds as if to account for my surprise, then stepped inside. As soon as I followed, she closed the door behind me, allowing me to take in the hidden room we'd just entered.

The lights were dimmed enough to give the room a vague feel of twilight about it, aided by the dark blue walls and the light fixtures overhead that resembled tiny stars. As was stereotypical for casinos, the room had no clocks or windows, making it feel almost frozen in time; in five years this room would look the same as it did today. A handful of uniformed waiters and waitresses crisscrossed the floor serving drinks or appetizers, though few seemed to be partaking in either. Glowing signs designating what table each game was for hung overhead, some hosting games I could have played without issue and others representing games I'd never even heard of. While the room wasn't stuffed to bursting, given what I'd seen of the main floor, whatever this room represented seemed far more popular.

"Yumeko's in here," Miss Igarashi said, pointing across the room at one of the tables, its overhead sign displaying BACCARAT in sea-blue letters. "She's a bit busy at the moment, but we'll substitute a fresh dealer as soon as we're able. Please be patient."

After suppressing a double take, I looked closer. Sure enough, Yumeko was standing on the far side of the table, dealing cards to four of the casino's patrons at lightning speed. I didn't even know how to riffle shuffle, so her skill surpassed mine by quite a bit, but her employment raised another question. She technically wasn't even supposed to be in the casino, how the hell was she working here?

I didn't have long to ponder. Yumeko wrapped up what she was doing rather quickly; given that everyone she'd dealt to had just shoved all their chips into the middle, she must have won the game. After Yumeko shuffled the cards and fed them into some kind of machine, an older woman emerged from another hidden door behind Yumeko and walked behind the same table; another dealer who'd been taking a break, perhaps. Yumeko smiled, said something to the woman I couldn't hear, and walked up to us.

Miss Igarashi turned to face Yumeko as she arrived. "I believe this girl is your friend. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Yumeko said. "Thank you, Sayaka. I'll handle this from here."

Sayaka nodded, then exited out the door we'd come in, likely either to return wherever she'd been previously or start patrolling the rest of the casino. Yumeko led me past several other games, stopping at the door where the other woman had emerged. She punched in a passcode on a number pad next to the door, then the door swung open and I followed Yumeko inside.

As evidenced by the other woman, this was some kind of break room. It had about what I expected from a break room; a few couches and chairs, a table with three well-used decks of cards lying face-down on it, a vending machine, and a small digital clock right above the door. There was another door off to the side, probably for a bathroom, but nothing appeared to be going on behind it.

"We've got thirty guaranteed minutes of being alone," Yumeko said once she'd closed the door behind her. "Are you ready to talk?"

Of course I wasn't, but putting this off any longer wasn't an option, not here, not now. "Yes. Let's do this."

Yumeko's eyes seemed to glow. "Excellent. In that case, let's have a nice chat."

As Yumeko's gaze bore into me, I prepared myself for what was bound to be a long, stressful conversation.

Buy-In 1.7

Yumeko drew my attention so much she seemed to suck in light. The room may have been blandly decorated and devoid of other people, but there was no reason she should have taken my attention this hard. I wouldn't say she felt like a cult leader considering what I'd heard actual cults like The Fallen did to their recruits, but she gave off some of the same vibes as she began talking.

"I'm not going to waste your time or dress this up in pretty language," Yumeko said. "The Beautification Committee is recruiting new members, unaffiliated capes in particular. As far as I can tell, they're a vigilante organization, and I have good sources. If you'd like to join them, I'd put in a good word for you, and if I do that they'll definitely make you part of the team."

If that meant what I thought it meant, that explained her immediate interest in me, as well as all of this. Why she'd defended me yesterday was still up in the air, but maybe she'd just done it to establish trust with me.

Then something else leaped to the front of my brain, especially given how this morning had gone. "Wait. If you're recruiting me to the Beautification Committee, how are you unsure what they are?"

Yumeko smiled. "Oh, that's easy. I'm not officially a member. I might work here, but that's as far as the association goes."

That felt like several contradictions in one: she worked here, at least some of the employees were terrified of her, and she was going so far as to try and recruit members for them, yet she pretended all this was coincidental at best. I must have conveyed my confusion, too: Yumeko didn't wait for me to ask the question before answering it. "Giving me a job here is their means of keeping an eye on me; they really want to recruit me even though I'm not buying what they're selling. I don't mind, I like working here. It's not the same as being on the other side of the table, but it'll do for now."

I parsed that statement as best I could. If she was someone the Beautification Committee had gone out of their way to track, that likely meant she was a cape, or had connections to people who were, or both. In the former case, her powers remained unknown, though based on this morning I guessed some kind of Thinker social deduction power. In the latter, I needed to be careful about what I said; the last thing I needed was to get in the crosshairs of more villains.

Plus, apart from maybe Pain Gainer I knew none of the Beautification Committee's members, and given how school was going, I didn't want whatever this was to just pick up where Winslow left off. "Considering you've known what I've done for less than twenty-four hours, I don't know what told you I'd be a good fit for them. Could you clarify?"

"Forgive me for saying this, but it's rather obvious," Yumeko said. "You joining would benefit everyone involved. I have the Beautification Committee off my back for a bit, you get backup and directives to help with your patrols, and they get a new cape and another means to try and reel me in. Everyone wins."

That sounded like a win, but I didn't want to go in unprepared because Yumeko had deliberately fuzzed the edges. "How do I know that working with you guys won't get me tossed into the Birdcage?"

"Again, the Beautification Committee isn't doing anything that bad as far as I know," Yumeko said. "Being a vigilante organization instead of a villain organization makes a world of difference from a legal standpoint. And even if they brand you a criminal and the Protectorate catches you, if you're not too far gone they'll just give you a slap on the wrist and stick you on the Wards. I don't know why you didn't try to join them first, but it won't be that much of a step down from what you're doing now."

I'd thought about that as soon as I'd left the psych ward; under most circumstances, getting to do good under the guidance of some of my childhood idols sounded like a childish fantasy rather than reality. However, once I'd dug into how the Wards worked, their structure reminded me far too much of Winslow. None of the Wards had problematic histories or anything like that (as far as I knew, anyway), but overburdened adults who had their own problems to deal with watching over a group of superpowered teenagers felt like another disaster waiting to happen.

I forced myself back on topic, asking Yumeko what I hoped would be the decisive question. "In absolute honesty, what options do I have here?"

Yumeko waited a few seconds, perhaps deciding how to word her answer, then responded. "If you'd like to join, I'll make sure the other members get informed and you can be introduced to them by proxy tomorrow. If not, we can still be friends if you want, but I won't bring this up again. It's your choice. All you have to do is make it."

Continuing to call Yumeko a friend felt like a risky route at best. Even if I trusted her enough to leave whatever this was behind at Winslow's entrance that didn't mean I was immune to being dragged into the Beautification Committee's affairs. However, going out of her way to spend time with me, even if she did it for her sake instead of mine, put her in the upper echelons of Winslow's population. I didn't know enough about the Beautification Committee to go either way; joining them could either be exactly what I needed or my worst nightmare, even if it was more likely to fall somewhere in between.

Sometimes, the safest route was the most logical one. This was definitely one of those times.

"I don't have an answer yet," I said. "I'll need to do some research before I commit to anything. Is that okay?"

"Take as much time as you need," Yumeko said. "Capes like you are rare, and unaffiliated capes like you even rarer. You've got a while before I or they make this offer to someone else."

At least she hadn't pressed me yet. That would probably come with time, but if her offer was legitimate, which was a very big if, I still had a shot of returning to my patrols in peace.

As I moved to stand up, Yumeko pulled out a cell phone from her pocket; I wasn't a tech whiz, but that looked like the newest model. "Would you mind exchanging numbers with me so we can keep in touch?"

"I don't have a cell phone yet, and I'm not sure how much we can keep in touch on a landline," I said. Dad could probably afford to get me one of the older models, but with us perpetually being a bad month or two from falling behind on all our bills it didn't seem like a wise choice to add anything else. Before today, it wasn't like I'd have anyone to talk with.

"I'd still suggest we exchange numbers, but I understand," Yumeko said. Drop me a line in homeroom when you're ready and we can discuss the terms after school that day. We'll need to keep it secret, though, so a keyword or indicator of sorts would be nice."

I came up with one without too much effort. "How about I suggest that we play poker after school?"

Yumeko nodded, then displayed her cell phone. "That sounds excellent. Now, about that phone number…"

I nodded, then wrote down the number Yumeko showed me as she wrote down my number. She seemed to take that as the end of the meeting, standing up and walking over to hold the door for me. I took the opportunity. I didn't want to look like I was hurrying away, but I moved as quickly as I could without creating that impression.

The door closed behind me, leaving me alone in the secret room. The lighting was dim enough that finding where the exit was proved difficult, but thankfully, Sayaka had stayed in the room after bringing me here, and she wasted no time marching up to me.

"I presume you're looking for the way out," Sayaka said. "Don't worry, I can help. At least you're sober, so you can follow instructions."

Despite my general lack of knowledge about casinos, everyone knew most drunk people had fewer inhibitions. The implications were obvious enough even without the numerous cocktail waiters and waitresses dotting the room.

Sayaka led me to the door, then escorted me to the casino's entrance; maybe she wanted to ensure I actually left the premises now that my meeting with Yumeko had ended, since I was technically underage. She didn't say a word while we walked, but once we made it to where I'd run into the security guard earlier, she waved goodbye before hurrying into the casino's depths.

Meanwhile, I emerged into the night, then came to a dead stop. The casino's glow became even more pronounced now that it was dark outside, but the lighting messed with my night vision to the point where everything in front of me was nothing more than amorphous, colorless blobs difficult to focus on. I waited five minutes until I felt comfortable walking to the bus stop without tripping, then made it to the nearest stop right as the bus pulled up.

By the time I got home, it was only around nine, but it felt much later. That feeling only intensified when I saw nothing but darkened windows when I entered the house. Turning the kitchen light on so I could get something to eat revealed a note from Dad. Went to bed early. There's leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry. Can't wait to hear about your new friend. -Dad.

After heating and devouring the leftovers, I attempted to do my homework, but I kept getting distracted by the night's conversation. My grades had never been great since I started high school; Emma, Sophia, and Madison stealing or destroying my homework and projects was common, and my trigger event had only made things worse. However, I had to at least try. That meant by the time I had my assignments in a passable state, it was almost eleven, and that didn't mean I could go to bed yet.

I booted up the computer to find out what I could about the Beautification Committee, but less than ten minutes in it became clear I shouldn't have bothered. The Beautification Committee was new enough that researching it online was largely pointless. They didn't have any news articles about them yet, and even trawling the Parahumans Online forums didn't get me much, although Pain Gainer and someone going by Deep Blue had made a few posts each. Thus, I had little to base my decision on other than what Yumeko and Pain Gainer had told me. At eleven-thirty on the dot, I shut down the computer and began getting ready for bed; if I'd missed anything, I could look for it in the morning.

Going up the stairs provided me with some pleasant news. My leg now hurt little enough that I could test the waters and try a short run tomorrow morning. Whether I returned to patrol tomorrow night was another question, but I could figure that out later. Now, I needed to sleep, though: I couldn't be a good hero if I was sleep-deprived.

Just because I needed it didn't mean it came easily; between last night and tonight I'd been given a lot to think about. I tossed and turned under my sheets for a while, ruminating on possible courses of action and dreading the days to come. Then, as with all nights, my brain eventually hit a breaking point, deciding that I wouldn't be able to figure out anything else that night while conscious. Soon after, the rest of my body followed suit.

For the second night in a row, I drifted into a restless sleep, my mind in overdrive.

---

Buy-In 1.P

Director Piggot,

If you are reading this, our coup of the Azn Bad Boys was successful, and we currently hold the reins. We have no desire to continue Lung's brutish legacy, and for clarity's sake, we would like to conduct a meeting to outlay our terms of engagement.

For security reasons, we request that this meeting be held in person at the Ruby Dreams Casino, one of our newest acquisitions. In exchange, we invite you to select a time that works best for you to meet within the next week. You may attend this meeting yourself or send someone you trust as a proxy. Small groups are also acceptable should you need backup, but no more than four, please.

Please respond as soon as possible. We look forward to meeting with you.

Sincerely,

Deep Blue, Beautification Committee Representative.

Director Piggot needed to read the email three times before things started making sense. Once it did, though, it was a godsend. This letter answered almost all of her questions about the past week by itself, and she was sure she could piece together the rest now that she had most of the information.

Capes were responsible for a lot of bullshit, but the chain of events that ousted Lung and Oni Lee from Brockton Bay set the new record to beat. Half a dozen mercenary capes with no prior affiliation entering Brockton Bay at once was already bullshit. Those capes immediately finding each other and teaming up was absolutely bullshit. That team-up lasting just long enough for them to drive Lung and Oni Lee off before they skipped town set off her bullshit detector so hard, it was a wonder her eyes didn't light up and spin.

Someone claiming to be behind all that didn't make it any less bullshit, but at least now she had an explanation.

Fucking capes.

As much as she loathed to admit it, with this new organization having taken the time to extend feelers to her and not being responsible for anything yet, acquiescing to their request seemed like the most reasonable solution. Thus, she'd called for a staff meeting, because while she could overrule them all if need be, having others to use as a sounding board and/or source of ideas was never a bad thing.

Her office was full to bursting within minutes; her senior staff, in addition to Miss Militia and Armsmaster, made the head count just over a dozen, everyone having just enough room to stand without touching each other. In the interest of not inducing claustrophobia in everyone here, Director Piggot kept the meeting short. After summarizing the email for them, she explained the conclusions she'd drawn from it. "We're going to have to deal with this eventually. Unless something demands our attention in the next few hours, I say we just get this over with today. Anyone have any problems with that?"

No one did.

"In that case, I'll set up the meeting now," Director Piggot said. "Thank you for your help; I'll call you back when I need you."

Everyone else exited Director Piggot's office, leaving her alone. Over the next fifteen minutes, she composed and proofread an email requesting the meeting be held that night, her breath hitching in her chest for a second when she clicked Send.

She received her response less than five minutes later. It was nothing more than a simple confirmation but felt like a signal of impending doom. However, she'd set herself up for this, so she had to follow through.

Thus, at six o'clock that evening, she parked her car half a block away from the Ruby Dreams Casino, her four-member team exiting in unison. She was one of those members; while attending in person might have been risky if this team had ill intent, she wanted to hear this information herself instead of it being relayed through a proxy. Miss Militia walked alongside her, there as backup in case the other capes attending (if there were any) became violent. Two unpowered security guards, one in the front and one in the back, rounded out their team, both packing heat. Nilbog had proven that no amount of backup would help if things went too far south, but this meeting shouldn't be anywhere near as dangerous.

She hoped.

The casino was easy enough to find. Its exterior appeared to be a work in progress; its immediate surroundings had been cordoned off, leaving only a path to the entrance open under a temporary tunnel. A team of construction workers were working on the exterior of the building, a few more directing the occasional patron to the casino's entrance. The change didn't make much sense to Director Piggot; the Ruby Dreams Casino wasn't a bastion of technological advancement, but the building wasn't that old. Maybe they were making a statement by removing all evidence of the ABB's influence.

While Director Piggot was deep in her thoughts, she remained aware enough to notice the woman approaching their party. Once the two of them made eye contact and the woman didn't break it off, Director Piggot surmised the woman was to be their escort inside. Once the woman stopped just short of their party, that was all but proven the case.

"We've been expecting you," the woman said. "Please, follow me."

Director Piggot and her entourage did as instructed. Instead of going through the casino's main entrance as Director Piggot expected, the woman walked around the casino, cutting through a tight but clean alley before stopping at an inconspicuous door in the back. After pulling what appeared to be an ID card out of her wallet, she pressed it against the keypad beside the door, causing it to swing open. A flight of stairs and a veritable labyrinth of hallways later, the woman stopped in front of another inconspicuous door impossible to differentiate from the dozen others they'd walked past to get there.

"Your host is in that room," the woman said. "Please knock. She'll let you in when she's ready."

As the woman left, Director Piggot heeded her advice. The subsequent wait wasn't unbearably long, but Piggot had counted to thirty by the time she heard a noise she guessed was a magnetic lock disengaging.

"It's open," their apparent host said. Their voice sounded a lot younger than Director Piggot expected, but it was Brockton Bay; the weirdness had to be taken on a sliding scale.

The room Director Piggot and her team entered was unlike any she'd seen for quite a while. Several aquariums, each containing a variety of colorful fish, sat on a table at the opposite end of the room, and a mural of an exotic underwater locale hung above it; combined with the ocean-blue walls, it was clear what theme this room was going for. Besides those details, though, the room had rather spartan decoration; a desk with a high-end computer sitting on it, a handful of chairs, and a generic ceiling light fixture painted the same color as the walls. Their host, the only other person in the room, was seated at the desk, although she'd at least moved out from behind the computer so her face was visible.

"My apologies for the delay, but it's been rather busy around here," the girl said. "I promise nothing else will divest my attention for as long as this meeting lasts."

Director Piggot took the time to scrutinize their host. She looked young enough to be her daughter, but between the stiff-backed posture and the weariness present in her eyes, she looked like she'd been forced into adulthood earlier than most. Her outfit was simple but practical, consisting of a mask to hide her identity (though her eyes were revealed, they were such an unnatural color that contact lenses were the most likely explanation), nondescript clothing, and something under her clothing that was probably body armor. Most importantly, she held what looked like a flame-orange Tinkertech gun in her hands, and given that her arms didn't shake and her aim never faltered, she had experience with using it.

"Thank you for accepting our offer," the girl said. "As I composed and sent the email suggesting this meeting, I'm sure you know my name by now, but I'll introduce myself just in case. My name is Deep Blue, and I'll be your primary contact with the Beautification Committee."

"I expected I'd be meeting with the Beautification Committee's leader," Director Piggot said, trying to dig for more information without sounding that way. "Where are they?"

"Our current leader is away on business," Deep Blue said, her expression just as nondescript as before. "They authorized me to conduct this meeting on their behalf."

Director Piggot had other questions to ask, but Deep Blue put her hand up, a clear sign that now was not the time. "Could you please wait on the questions? We have a lot to cover today, and I'm sure you'd prefer to be out of here sooner rather than later."

Producing a remote from her pocket, Deep Blue pointed it at seemingly nothing before clicking. Director Piggot's heart jumped in her chest as she prepared for that remote to activate a diabolical trap to kill them all, but all that happened was a projection screen unfurling from a well-hidden slot in the ceiling, what looked like the first slide of a PowerPoint presentation displayed on it, titled "The Beautification Committee and You: Things to Know".

To Director Piggot's surprise, it was one of the unpowered guards, a burly man in his late twenties who'd been working security jobs since he'd finished high school, who had something to say about that. "You're sure going through a lot of effort to make this all seem like a normal business meeting."

That could have easily been taken as a lack of tact, and Director Piggot once more prepared for the worst. However, if Deep Blue was offended, it didn't show. "PowerPoint's practical. That's all there is to it."

Without any further delay, Deep Blue started the presentation, silencing any further remarks. Sure enough, Deep Blue didn't waste time, her presentation clocking in at just shy of ten minutes, and covered about ninety percent of what Director Piggot thought she'd need to know about the organization. She got a brief origin story of how the Beautification Committee formed and obtained their leadership, a quick rundown on the actions to expect from them (several times, Deep Blue stressed the difference between illegal and immoral, which fittingly was comforting and distressing all at once), and their requests from the Protectorate, which more or less amounted to not singling them out. The whole time, Director Piggot scribbled notes, trying not to hang on the girl's every word but still managing to cover all the important sections so she could brief the rest of the Protectorate later.

Once Deep Blue reached the final slide of her presentation, her eyes swept the room as she took a deep breath. "That's all I have to say. Are there any further questions you wish to raise before we conclude this meeting?"

Director Piggot was the first one to ask something. "I conducted some research after the incident, and those mercenaries you hired to handle Lung and Oni Lee had no prior affiliation. How did you get them all together so fast? Because if you have a human Master in your ranks, I don't care how you use them, we're going after them."

"No Masters of any kind were involved, I can reassure you of that," Deep Blue said, her tone shifting to something a bit more reassuring. "Money's just as powerful a motivation, especially for mercenary capes. I can't say we wouldn't have uses for a Master in good faith, but as of now we have none to our name."

Reassuring, if true. However, Deep Blue's expression had barely changed all meeting, so perhaps she just had experience lying. She and Miss Militia would need to alert the Protectorate about the possibility.

Miss Militia went next. "What's become of the remainder of the Azn Bad Boys? Did you turn them in elsewhere, or send them away, or…"

"An excellent question," Deep Blue said, looking almost impressed; perhaps the Protectorate treating what remained of the ABB like people hadn't been something she'd expected. "Those who wanted to leave their old lives behind, mostly involuntary members, we did our best to find a place to live and a job if they needed either; we're even using a handful of unoccupied rooms from the casino's attached hotel for temporary housing. For those who wanted to stay, we found a place within the organization and are monitoring them closely."

Of course, that raised its own questions, which Miss Militia added right away. "Forgive me if this question sounds ridiculous, but what for?"

Deep Blue's glare became searing. "Immoral activities and potential spies for Lung. It only takes one of either to ruin everything we're building towards. And the less information Lung has if he tries to come back, the better. While keeping vigilant only does so much, the more prepared we are versus him, the greater the odds we survive if and when he returns to Brockton Bay."

That calmed Director Piggot down more than she cared to admit or show. While Lung and Oni Lee were powerful, as evidenced by the half-dozen mercenary capes needed to ensure their eviction from Brockton Bay, Brockton Bay had enough villainous factions that they were a threat, not the threat. If he pushed to take over Brockton Bay, all those other groups would team up, even if only temporarily, to drive them back out again, and they'd succeed; the numbers disparity was simply too great.

Director Piggot was the one to push after that, though. "Could you elaborate?"

"We're working on evacuation and defense procedures for our territory in case that happens," Deep Blue said. "For the sake of not alerting any potential spies of the specifics, that's all I'll say for now. In the event those procedures become relevant I'll email you the details."

That was a satisfactory enough answer to end that line of conversation. Director Piggot had a few more questions after that, but most of them were clarifications over minor details. Deep Blue provided those answers without fuss, even as Director Piggot kept adding details to her notes, until finally neither side had anything left to say.

"Thank you once more," Deep Blue said. "In the event I'm not available, I'll put you in touch with some other contacts so you'll always have a means of communication with us if needed. We hope this meeting was as productive for you as it was for us."

Director Piggot took that as their cue to leave, as she pulled herself out of her seat, her three companions doing the same. The same woman who had walked them there led them back out of the casino through the secret entrance they'd used earlier. From there, she watched them as they walked back to their car, only going back inside once she saw they'd all opened the doors. Director Piggot plopped into the driver's seat without a word, trying to keep her focus on the Brockton Bay traffic but failing miserably.

Right when she thought things might get a little simpler, the universe spat on her and gave her rogues gallery a distressing new addition. For all of Lung's many, many flaws, he'd at least been somewhat predictable. But this? She'd left the meeting with even less of an idea of what might happen than she had entering it.

Unlike with gangs of the past, the Beautification Committee didn't have a direct solution; the current risk/reward of such an effort was too unfavorable. If the Beautification Committee kept their word, cracking down on them when three gangs that posed an active threat also resided in Brockton Bay would be career suicide. No matter how much she loathed them, as long as their activities didn't disrupt the average citizen of Brockton Bay, leaving them alone remained the wisest decision.

Only in Brockton Bay would such a thing be a reasonable course of action. "Why can't things ever fucking be easy around here?"

Unfortunately, those words had unintentionally reached her mouth, and Miss Militia, riding shotgun, caught them. "Is there something you need to tell us, Director Piggot?"

"Nothing," Director Piggot said, her teeth clenching to hold back another curse. "Don't worry about it."

She needed to start looking for a successor. If she stayed here much longer, this position was going to push her into an early grave.

Fucking capes.

---