Rewq

CW for violence, nothing heavy though don't worry!

Questioning my existence could wait, because frankly I’d done enough waiting and it was someone else’s turn. Weeks of stakeouts and finally, some action. My first villain to fight! My practice with flying martial arts and throwing fireballs, albeit limited, was finally going to come into play. Quick mental checklist. First, civilians: they were always the priority. There probably weren’t many about, being late at night, but I had to make sure. Second, backup: Cascade was here and apparently elsewhere too; she’d probably call for it if needed. Third, strategy: Greeting, ask to come quietly, and if things escalate try and direct the fighting away from any bystanders or housing. Fourth was uh, something I’d forgotten that could probably wait, it was heroing time!

“Cascade, you call for backup, I’m going in.” This was so goddamn cool! I was gonna actually do hero work!

“What? No, you aren’t, we’re gonna follow them quietly.”

“And let people get hurt? Not on my watch. Look, there are two friends on the pavement a few hundred metres from our window, right in the villain’s path.” Time was of the essence.

“They’re obviously a couple, idiot, and secondly–” Secondly could wait; I’d already dived out the window and taken flight. Keeping above the rooftops and out of the villain’s line of sight, I flew past them towards the friends and possible couple, dropping down next to them.

“Ladies, for your safety, I’m going to have to ask you please to seek safety elsewhere, there’s a–” I was cut off.

“Idiot.” One seethed while the other glared disdainfully at me. “We’re both Cascade! Now leave before you spoil things any further.” Oh. That was probably what she’d been trying to tell me before.

“Sorry, but what about–” Being interrupted was becoming an aggravatingly frequent occurrence.

“The jogger further along? That’s also me, obviously.” Obviously my arse, how did she even get them there so quickly? “Now, please stop spoiling–” I would have been just a little smug about her also being cut off, had it been anything but the whine of laser cannon causing it.

“Ooh, fresh meat, ready to get cooked?” Was that a pun? Did this villain have a cooking gimmick I was unaware of? A villain trying to use fire on me for my first outing would be a good way to ease into the job.

“Hi.” Probably not the right opening word there. “This doesn’t have to come to blows, you can come quietly.”

“It doesn’t have to, but I sure do want it to. And darling, I never come quietly.” Do not laugh at the dumb sex joke. Why would she even say that? Was it so – nope doesn’t matter, gotta dodge some energy blasts.

Weird conversation apparently over, the fight started in earnest. Dodging was easy enough at a distance, but given that her laser’s range was far better than my fireballs, it quickly became apparent I’d need to get in closer. That, unfortunately, made dodging a whole lot harder, which was worsened further by the numbing effect her shots had on me whenever they connected. Our first exchange had me land a few blasts to her armour and, to my delight, burn off most of her cape; it also had me take a full blow to my left arm, forcing it to go limp and messing my flight up completely.

After a small retreat until some feeling came back, I reentered the fray, this time being extra cautious on the dodging and with a new strategy in mind: target her laser. The device itself had a cone-like barrel with a heap of, presumably, electromagnets along its length to focus a blast that came from a power source presumably elsewhere in the suit. But, given that she always kept it still for a second or two to shoot, it wasn’t the hardest target to connect with.

My first on-target fireball was a glancing hit from above and visibly shorted a few of the glowing coils, not that it seemed to affect its firing ability. My second, a fully-charged inferno I tossed her way, took out the whole left side, but at the cost of her shot connecting with my left leg. Without the thrust from that leg, I plummeted fast, landing gracelessly on my arse, not far from her. Still, I could hardly fall back without my leg moving, so offence was my only option.

“Oh, what’s baby going to do now she’s stuck on the ground like the rest of us?” That was a blatantly stupid question; I was obviously going to throw fireballs at her. I charged one in each hand, but wasn’t the only one to do so. Her own weapon began to glow, yellow now, not purple, and ominously sparking the whole way. “Gosh, it’d be a pity if all you’d managed was to damage the regulators keeping my laser drill set to stun.”

In one movement, I merged my fireballs together and tossed the unstable result at her; split seconds later her gun fired too. Mine connected, with a bang, obliterating the laser and sending her flying. Her blast connected too, but not into me, instead into the diving form of a stranger. My heart caught. Someone had sacrificed themselves to save me. That wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I crawled towards their limp form, the wound in her stomach obvious even at a glance. Tears streaming down my face, I cradled the head of this total stranger in my lap, pleading silently for their survival, all the while knowing it was far too late.

“You’re an idiot,” they told me. Oh. Right, Cascade.

“Sorry. Does that uh, hurt?” The whiplash from flipping from mourning to confusion had my brain feeling pretty dumb.

“No no, it’s a perfectly comfortable gaping fucking chest wound. It’s almost as bad as the fact that she got away!”

“Wait, what? How?” All of that, for nothing.

“Evac belt automatically teleported her somewhere when her weapon broke.” She coughed out, along with what would conventionally be a very ominous amount of blood. “Which you would have known if you’d waited like I said. And I could have followed her to wherever she was working from; way to fucking go.” I’d really fucked up, hadn’t I.

“I uh, I should go.” It all seemed so much simpler on the news and in the films.

“That is what I’ve been saying for weeks now. This is what I do better than anyone, especially you. You’re. Not. Needed.” I let my head hang low, and sat glumly until the numbness wore off before flying home, just as glumly.

—

How much wallowing was too much? Pondering this at all, naturally, indicated the answer, but given that my brain was still eagerly reliving the top ten ways I was an impulsive fuckup, I’d clearly need some outside help, especially given how quickly my initial plan had fallen apart. Just not being Ifrit, as I’d briefly resolved to try, was very evidently not an option. The fire coursing through me demanded to be let out, more than ever before. Like a rabid dog, after a taste of being let loose in that embarrassing attempt at a fight, it demanded more. Even staying untransformed for the work day left me hot and sweaty, and going a full twenty-four hours like I’d tried had charred my mattress by morning. 

And that was just the physical side of things! Mentally I knew I couldn’t just be done; that would be pathetic, well, more pathetic. A hero, a real one, would pull themselves together, learn from their mistakes and come back stronger than before. I meanwhile would just have to hope that awkwardly calling one’s mother was an acceptable substitution for genuine strength of character.

“Hi, Mum, how’re things at home?”

“Hi, sweetie, and they are wonderful! Someone really should have told me how much gardening I’d get done if I retired, and I’d have done it years ago.” Just let her talk herself out on the garden and then– “But I suspect you didn’t call me at two a.m. to talk about my garden; what’s going on?” Right. I might have procrastinated picking up the phone for a few hours longer than planned.

Alright, here goes. “I uh, I got powers, Mom, and I’m a hero now, or I’m supposed to be.”

“Wait, really? Aww, I’m so happy for you honey! And before you get all anxious, I fully support you in being a woman, okay?” She said what?

“I wh-what?” WHAT?! “B-but, but I’m – no, what?”

“Sweetie, we live in the same county, there’s only one new superhero here, not hard to work out. Now which part of being a woman do you want advice with? And when can I take you shopping? I always wanted a daughter!”

“Mum! Please. Calm down, I’m clearly not your daughter. That’s not how this works.” I was not going to the mall as Ifrit; that would be, uh, something. Definitely something.

“Well why not? You can transform into a woman, can’t you?”

“Yes, sure, but–” Mum, clearly having none of it, interrupted me. 

“Then, if you wanted, you could be my daughter.” Evidently she didn’t understand how this worked.

“If I wanted?! What I want doesn’t come into it, I’ve got responsibilities and, and–”

“Sweetie, you know I love you unconditionally, so please shut up and listen.”

“Fine.” I hmphhed too, for good measure.

“What you want is the only thing that comes into it, above even what you decide. If you want to be a woman, then that’s enough, congratulations, you’re qualified. And unless you also want to be a man, then you don’t just qualify; you are a woman.” There’s no way it was that simple; how would I even know?

Tentatively, I mumbled, “How would I know for sure?”

“Well, for most trans people, the answer is lots of introspection, but for you? Just think about your body for a moment.” I shuddered briefly, and suppressed the urge to say ‘I’d rather not’. The moment I let myself consider it, I felt overwhelmed. Leg hair itched against my pyjamas. My back hunched and my stomach bulged. There were hairs growing on my hands and feet. My skin, coarse and rough, was sweating, and not just from the flame angrily pulsing in my core. I wanted to retch. I closed my eyes, made sure none of my skin touched any other part of me and tried to drive from my mind any image of what I looked like. So the normal male experience, basically.

“Okay, and now, if you can, switch forms and try again.” Dreading what I might find, I loosed the flame on my flesh and let it compress me into Ifrit’s svelte form. On the first breath I felt calmer, better, comfier. On the second, my legs brushed together, soft and smooth and right, and I smiled. A nervous smile, but a smile nonetheless. On the third, I hugged myself a little, just to try it, and promptly became a bystander to a one sided war between coherent self-reflection and boob squish.

“From the happy squeaking I can hear, I think the answer is pretty obvious, honey, but I am going to insist you say it: which body do you prefer?”

Well drat. “This one.”

“Which one is that, oh child of mine? Your female body?”

“Yes, fine, the girl body, I like it much more. Happy? Happy that you’ve made me uproot my entire fucking life? Happy that I have no god damn clue what to do now? Happy that now when I go to work I won’t be able to forget how much I hate the body I have to turn up in? Thanks, Mum.”

“Don’t take that tone with me, missy.” I refused to let the feminine label distract me from my anger; she had no right to force this on me. “I am happy that I made those things happen sooner rather than later. And I’d definitely be happy if I just made the difference between you ever realising this or not. Honestly, I should have done this when you were ten.”

“When I was ten!? I’ve only been a girl for a month!”

“Sweetie, there is a reason I’ve done research into trans people, and a reason I’ve rehearsed this conversation a hundred times; you were not a subtle child.”

I screamed internally. I was angry that she’d known and not told me for well over a decade and I was angry that she’d told me before I was ready. I was angry at myself for not realising it all sooner and just as angry that I’d admitted it all. And now I was angry about the contradictions! Not to mention that, because I clearly couldn’t catch a break, I was charring the shape of my butt into my favourite kitchen chair. Ugh.

“I’m gonna hang up before I say something I regret, I’ll call you when I call you, Mum.” That was not at all how I’d planned on the conversation going, but being too pissed off for self-pity was a way to get my arse into gear nonetheless. Tomorrow, I’d spend some time with Matt, between whom and myself there was no anger, so I could calm down. And after that, I’d take any leftover anger and do some proper training. Next time I came across a villain, I’d be ready.

Rewq

Another week, another recommedation! This time for the wonderful story A little vice by the even more wondeful Shadell! Angst, magical girls, more angst and an amazing read through and through!