Inessa did a double-take when she saw me outside her door early Thursday morning. She was the one who tended to be up first between us; and she was sensitive enough to the reasons that would drive me out of the comforts of my bed early enough to beat her to it.

“You okay C?” Something in my face must have clued her in. I did my best to feign a smile.

“Dad was a little upset about missing school after all.”

Inessa winced, her eyes repeating the question her mouth didn’t want to.

“Well, I’m just grounded and he took my phone. It’s really not that bad!” I grabbed Inessa’s arm and pulled her off the stoop before her parents could notice anything odd and get involved in the inquisition.

“And honestly,” I cut in before Inessa could leap to the wrong conclusion, “it’s not like he’s wrong. Like, he warned me I’d be in trouble if I skipped again any time soon and, well,” The truth was dad gave a lot of warnings. Usually he didn’t pay enough attention to remember them.

Inessa frowned, “C, it’s…” she struggled to find a word.

“It’s fine. Honestly, it’s almost a relief to know he actually cares enough to do that. You know? Like, I guess he does worry after all?” Actually, as he’d explained, some kind soul at the school administration had apparently decided this happened to me enough to page my teacher to see if I was in class and then try to contact my family as soon as the monster attack made the news.

Inessa’s arms wrapping around me pulled me from my reverie and informed me that, perhaps, responding that way had been slightly less reassuring than intended.

“It’s fine!” I reiterated, pulling away from the hug. “I just might, uh, not be around too much outside school for the next few weeks unless there’s something, like, urgent, and you probably won’t be able to grab me by phone for a bit.”

“C…”

“It is what it is,” I pointed at her, “But, more importantly than that, how are you doing? Yesterday was,” I wasn’t sure what adjective could be used to describe a day where your crush reacted to an implied confession by ignoring you and asking a friend to hang out and then revealing emself to be a supervillain.

Inessa’s face shifted to a look of personal horror.

“C! It’s… it’s awful,” she said quietly.

I forced down the bile that rose to my throat.

Inessa blinked, then shook her head furiously, “N-no, I mean, it’s awful I… I’ve been misgendering em this whole time! Ey probably hate me now and even if ey turns good ey’ll never want to date me and…”

She paused, clamping one hand over her mouth, “I-I’m a lesbian, is it transphobic that I have a crush on em?!”

“Inessa,” I rubbed the bridge of my nose, “you’re kinda amazing, you know?”

She stuck her tongue out at me.

“I mean,” she said, the panic dropping from her voice, “I think ey’s trying to do the right thing in eir own way, so we’ll find a way to get through to Lupin one way or another.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her. That’s right, at the end of it all, Inessa Brandt was a hero. She wouldn’t let anything get her down for long. And yet, was it really right to dismiss Avaritia’s words that completely?

“If anything,” Inessa sighed. “It’s Temperance I’m really upset at.”

I gave Inessa my best ‘hmmmm.’ In a way it was a relief that she was bouncing back enough after what had happened that she had the energy to squabble with Temperance. “What happened?” Dad had confiscated my phone and my computer, so I didn’t really have a way of staying in the loop for the moment.

“It’s just,” Inessa sighed, “Okay, she doesn’t want to talk about a lot of things with her and Avaritia but, like, she admitted yesterday that she knew and I just…”

Inessa sunk into a sullen silence as I tried futilely to process what she meant.

“She knew?”

“That Avaritia was Lupin!” Inessa groaned, “And she just let me crush on em without saying anything and now she won’t even say why she won’t talk or when she figured it out or anything that might help us…”

I struggled to pay attention. Temperance had known?! She’d known that Avaritia was reaching out to me, befriending me, that ey’d started that right after ey’d kidnapped me for reasons I could no longer trick myself into thinking were entirely innocuous. And Temperance hadn’t done anything to keep us apart or warn me or..

“And,” at least Inessa was lost enough in her own train of thought to miss my rising panic, “I know Temperance knows more about Avaritia and, sure she wants to save em more than anyone probably, but, she can trust us, right? We could do so much more to reach em if we’d known that ey was Lupin and now that’s gone and…”

“Inessa,” I tried to find the words. She turned to me, hope in her eyes, as if I would be able to answer any of that. “W-why did Temperance know Avaritia was Lupin?”

Inessa shrugged, “Well, I guess it’s harder to hide if you’ve known someone that long.”

What.

“What?!” my voice rose an octave, dreading Inessa’s answer, for all I couldn’t stop myself from asking the question.

“Because she was Gula,” Inessa spoke slowly, as if explaining a very obvious fact to a particularly forgetful person.

“What.” I pretended confusion for as long as I could, for all that I simply couldn’t escape the suddenly obvious fact that of course Temperance looked and acted almost exactly like Gula Shark had and yes, had appeared around the time Gula Shark vanished and…

“Why?” I managed, trying desperately not to wonder whether Temperance had known more than just Avaritia’s identity.

“Err,” Inessa looked at me in confusion. “Why what, what’s wrong?”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” It wasn’t like I deserved to hold a grudge against Temperance for what she’d done as Gula. She’d saved my life since then; gone out of her way to help me. She’d been nothing but nice to me in the time after she’d apparently stopped kidnapping me. I couldn’t even bring myself to hate Avaritia who’d done so much worse to me. And she’d hidden it.

“Oops,” Inessa winced.

And that was it really. “Oops.” It just wasn’t important enough to make sure I knew that my friend had hurt me in the past and, okay, she’d been Temperance for ages before I officially knew any of the magical girl stuff, as much of a bystander as I was. But this only served to cut apart that sweet little lie that I would ever be a part of the group.

“I uhhh,” she said eventually, “I thought she’d already brought it up.”

I nearly tripped, trying to ignore my own heartbeat, trying to ignore the cloying scent of cinnamon that I was sure I couldn’t actually smell. Temperance had been Gula; she’d known about Lupin. Had she known about Mr. Noir when he was tearing through my chest to pick apart my heart?

I tried to smile as I took a step ahead, “I think I need to be alone for a bit?”

I picked up the pace, leaving Inessa behind with only a hasty “S-see you at lunch,” to make sure she didn’t worry too much.

---

Lunch usually offered a welcome ritual, a chance to sit at a familiar table and see familiar faces, to be together and chat about anything and nothing. And yet, for all I was in on the secret now, for all they said I was welcome, it was impossible to feel like I belonged with the knowledge that no one had told me firmly in my head.

February 15’s lunch table felt like an alien and unfamiliar landscape. The usual patter of daily give and take had faded to an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of Temperance’s fork digging into her salad. Ida and Inessa would look to Temperance, then to each other, even as Temperance pretended to ignore them. No one was willing to say what needed to be said. And…

I looked at Temperance as she ate her lunch in silence. She looked like the same odd girl I’d come to trust and like all winter; apparently, the same girl who kept getting me caught up in her schemes before that. Did I really know her at all? And, Inessa and Ida had known and no one had said a thing. Did I belong here at all?

“Temperance,” I asked eventually, hating myself for being the one to cave first of all of us. And yet, that cloying scent haunted me still. It wouldn’t leave me alone until I knew.

She did not answer, but she did place her fork neatly on her tray and met my eyes, waiting. Dreading?

“Did you know Mr. Noir was…” I didn’t finish the question.

Inessa and Ida stopped and turned to face Temperance, Inessa’s brow crinkling in horrified realization.

“Sorry,” she said carefully, “I thought he might be in the school.” She paused for a moment as we stared at her in worry.

“I hadn’t found him yet,” she clarified belatedly, dropping the tension at the table by an order of magnitude.

Could I believe her? Did I trust Gula Shark? I shook my head. I didn’t deserve to doubt her. She’d saved my life how many times? Done her best to help me figure myself out and, for all she was constantly making fun of me, always seemed to include me as if I belonged with the group in a way that even Inessa didn’t quite manage.

And she’d lied.

“But you knew about Lupin.” Ida didn’t make eye-contact as she spoke, a little too afraid to sharpen the words into a genuine accusation.

“Yes,” Temperance admitted, as if that was all she had to say. As if that was enough.

“We,” Inessa’s voice shook. “We want to help Avaritia. You can trust us!”

“I do.” The words were barely more than a whisper, lifting a silent burden that Temperance did not bother to explain.

“So why didn’t you tell us?”

I retreated from the exchange, realizing that I’d started a conversation where I didn’t really belong. At least, Temperance hadn’t known about Mr. Noir. I shouldn’t have asked. Of course she wouldn’t have hidden him. Of course Avaritia was different, of course she had her reasons.

It hurt anyway.

---

Friday morning found Inessa waiting at the stairs outside my house. Her face told me that she’d overheard what dad and I’d said over breakfast; we’d been loud. I hadn’t had any good dreams in the past few days to lift my mood and Dad was…

“Sorry about that,” I managed, forcing a smile. “It’s really not as bad as it sounds between us.”

Inessa gave me a look.

“He’s trying,” I said defensively. I was still upset at Inessa for what she hadn’t told me. “Since Mom left, it’s been… It hasn’t been easy for him, you know?”

“C,” her voice was strained. “It hasn’t been easy for you and you weren’t the one shouting. You can rely on me.” She flexed one arm, patting a nonexistent bicep. “I’m a hero, you know? It’s what I do! Just say the word and we’ll get you out.”

That should have been reassuring. She was a hero. She was my hero. And yet, I didn’t need to run from my problems, to stay weak and protected and be a burden on everyone around me. No, Inessa couldn’t understand that. She’d gotten strong, strong enough to face herself in the mirror, strong enough to look after everyone else too. She didn’t need me anymore, didn’t really understand what it was like to look at yourself and find nothing worth keeping, nothing at all except the bitter thorny darkness. Avaritia had put it in terms I could understand, for all she was obviously in the wrong. I loved Inessa like a sister, I always would, but…

“I mean, sneaking out of being grounded probably wouldn’t make things better when I went back.” I shook my head. She couldn’t be offering more than that. I couldn’t let her be offering more than that.

Inessa reached an arm out toward me, then froze awkwardly. “That’s not what—” slowly the arm fell to her side. “Right. Just, we’re here for you, okay?”

I struggled not to bristle.

“You’ll never understand Lupin,” the words were mumbled quietly enough that Inessa couldn’t possibly have heard them, and enough of a nonsequitur that she’d never guess. And yet, some wicked little part of me wanted to throw that in her face.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“Sorry,” I muttered, “Can we change the topic?”

Inessa looked to her feet as we walked toward school in a sullen silence.

“Have you patched things up with Temperance yet?” I asked eventually. They would. Both of them were good people, bright people, people who deserved to outshine us all. Temperance had to have had her reasons. Any conflict between them was the kind of thing that would just leave them even stronger at the end.

I let Inessa take the opening to complain through the walk to school. At least she was kind enough to pounce on the invitation.

Inessa was amazing and inspiring and right. She was impossibly good and I knew, better than anyone, that she hadn’t always had that come easily to her. She’d been lost for a while too. But, I didn’t think she ever could have understood why Avaritia’s promises still sung in the corners of my heart.

Inessa had never really risked disappointing her family until they stopped loving her. She’d never, not really, had to look at herself and know how awful she was; while here, I—Avaritia might stand to lose everything if ey gave up on sin. Inessa was vibrant and bright and beautiful as soon as she’d decided to blossom, she couldn’t understand what it meant to have nothing in your heart that deserved to be spoken in the light of day. And that didn’t make it fair or right or okay to do evil; but, it made Inessa’s shallow efforts to cross that gap sting. She’d had everything she needed to push her darkness away. How was she to understand those who found some solace in theirs?

I half-expected Lupin to accost us at the gates. If ey had, Inessa would have yelped and hid and shown that, beneath all her courage and justice, so much about her hadn’t changed. I think, perhaps, she wanted the same. She certainly looked as disappointed as I did when we passed undisturbed into the school building.

I spent the morning dreading lunch with the certainty that I couldn’t do anything to take back the last few days. And yet, I was only half-relieved to find the usual table empty. Temperance missing alone would have set off alarm bells, but there was only one reason why they’d all be gone at once. Somewhere, someone needed a hero.

Really, by the time they were done fighting, Inessa and Temperance would have probably cleared the air. That’s how it seemed to go. That was good, things could go back to normal, these problems could be dismissed and everyone could welcome Temperance back into the fold.

I was worried, of course. I always was, but even I knew that was silly. They always won; that’s what they did.

They weren’t back by the end of the school day. I lingered at the gates, for all I was under strict orders to march straight home. Dad had confiscated my phone. I wouldn’t be able to know they were safe until Monday unless I did something and hoping they returned was the best I’d been able to think of. Dad probably wouldn’t even notice I was late.

---

Dad noticed I was late. Or at least, he was home when I arrived and he’d checked the clock when he heard the door.

He shouted for me from the living room. I debated ignoring him, or just turning around and leaving again. But that’d just make it worse when I came back, so I dropped my bag by the door, shrugged out of my jacket and trudged over to face the reaper.

“Hey,” I offered.

He snorted and struggled to his feet. My dad, large enough that he was used to being imposing by default, loomed over me with an air of barely restrained anger. The beer belly he’d spent the past few years working on did nothing to lessen the menace he could exude.

I glanced past him to the row of empty beer bottles on the living room table next to a crumpled tie. Work had gotten out early then, and he’d come home and started drinking. It must not have been a good day.

And a bad day meant that the best thing to do was bite my tongue as he spoke about respect and obedience and try my best to listen and apologize where appropriate.

“I’m sorry,” I said for the dozenth time. “Inessa was missing from the end of school and I was worried, so I stuck around to—” I didn’t get a chance to finish. Excuses were bad. His mood was worse. Today those trumped his usual approval of my connection with Inessa.

And, it’s not like he could understand that she might really have been in danger. To him it would seem like silly worrying, wouldn’t it? I tried to focus on that and not the echoes of the offer Inessa hadn’t dared to clarify that morning. I couldn’t do what mom had done to us. That was the limit.

Altogether, aside from the fact that he was already worked up and the earlier parts of the week had left him angrier than usual at me, it was a pretty normal talk for us. At least, it was the kind of normal we’d had for the past few months.

And then I messed it up. Perhaps I was just too tired, perhaps the week’s revelations and betrayals had left me too drained to remember the little pangs of sympathy for our shared guilt over mom. Maybe I thought, with all his talk of what a real man would do, that he’d actually respect it if I stood my ground. Whatever prompted it, I’d have usually known better.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” I took a deep breath and tried not to quiver. “I’m still a little worried about Inessa. Could I maybe head over to her parents’ for dinner? I’ll come right back as soon as we’re done.” I tried to keep a neutral tone of voice, but something of my anger leaked through.

Of course he refused. Of course he took it as defiance. Of course I should have backed down and left well enough alone.

Of course I shouldn’t have doubled down by turning my back on him while he was still talking, I shouldn’t have tried to storm out before he’d let me go. I shouldn’t have ignored him when he ordered me to turn back. None of that was how you managed him. I knew better.

Something flew past my head, missing me by a few feet and shattering against a wall. I stared at it in confusion, slowly realizing that it was the remnant of a beer bottle. Dumbly, I turned to stare. He’d yelled, he’d knocked things over, but he’d never thrown anything, not like that. I’d told myself he wasn’t a violent man a hundred times.

Maybe if I’d left then, I’d have talked myself out of understanding what had happened. But I turned to look first, and I saw the confusion and horror in his eyes, the way he stared at his own hands lost. And I knew it. He hadn’t thrown the bottle to make me pay attention. He’d meant to hit me and missed.

I stumbled to the door, and took one last look back.

“Fine then,” he slurred, “be like your mom.”

I ran.

---

I don’t really know how I got to the park, or how long I stayed there, sitting on a bench, staring at an empty playground. At some point it had gotten dark. I hadn’t grabbed my jacket on the way out, another dumb mistake. The freezing February night felt almost soothing, a welcome distraction from the void that sat where my emotions should have been.

It was a little nice to imagine dissolving into the wind, letting it freeze me and shatter me down into nothing so I wouldn’t hurt anyone, wouldn’t have to keep trying to make things work. Or maybe I could just start walking. I’d have to send a few postcards at first, to let them know not to worry. I wouldn’t be like mom. But they’d forget me soon enough and then I could just vanish inch by inch and then I wouldn’t have to worry about how much I wished I wasn’t everything I was.

Or perhaps I could just go to sleep and skip the part where I woke up. My dreams let me be someone else, someone powerful, someone who could still carve a place for herself even if the world had no use for her. Something about that seemed real enough to jolt me out of the fugue. I couldn’t say how I knew, but it was an option if only I would choose it. It was tempting.

Inessa wouldn’t forgive me.

No, they were good people. All of them, even Avaritia, would blame themselves if I vanished. I imagined mom leaving. I’d waited for her to come back at first, even fought with dad over it. I’d imagined something horrible had happened to her, and blamed myself for thinking it. Then I’d started to blame myself, my dad, her, then blamed myself even more for blaming anyone else but me.

It was agony to have someone vanish. It was a self-indulgent delusion to think that any of these silly little daydreams would be any kinder to them.

So, I wiped a few freezing tears out of my eyes and started walking. A boy shouldn’t have been crying to start with of course, but that was his rule, so it didn’t matter.

---

The neighborhood felt different at night. Maybe I was different. The quiet and the dark lent it an air of eerie peace that helped me gather myself. I was barely sniffling by the time I reached their doorstep, careful not to so much as look down the street.

Nothing happened the first time I smashed my fist against the door. The second set brought light on in a nearby room, but no one came for what felt like an eternity.

Mrs. Brandt, dressed in a nightgown, cracked open the door, just as I resolved to try one last time. She was already starting to grumble as she looked through, before she recognized me in the thin sliver of light and the storm clouds fled from her face, only to return a few seconds later as she started to wonder why I was there in what couldn’t have been a good state at what had to be a late hour.

The door swung open, almost hitting me on the way and Mrs. Brandt practically dragged me inside, offering soft comforting little lies all the while. In what felt like an instant, I found myself sitting numbly at the dining room table, nursing a mug of hot cocoa as the sun broke over the horizon and Inessa’s parents continued to fuss over me.

Mrs. Brandt told me—though I didn’t think I’d shared anything about what happened—that I wouldn’t be going back. Mr. Brandt told me not to think about the future, to spend the day thinking and taking care of myself. He was there to listen. Mrs. Brandt was there to ‘sort things out.’

I wondered if this made him right, at the end. But I remembered his face in the moment he’d said that. I gave them a list of all the things I thought I wanted: my phone, my laptop, my jacket, a small tin containing a few birthday cards and mementos and, hidden at the bottom, a pair of earrings I hadn’t been able to throw away.

At least, I told them that he hadn’t actually hit me; they had to know that. I couldn’t go back anymore, sure. But it was somehow absolutely important that they knew that there hadn’t really been an escalation; that, even by accident, he hadn’t crossed that line.

Inessa and her dad both offered to talk. Once I’d managed to make it clear that wasn’t happening, Inessa and I ended up huddling on her couch, watching torrents of Starlight Princess Orion to distract both of us from our feelings. I didn’t say much, but it was almost nice to listen to Inessa slip into the familiar rants about how much better the show would be if only Dark Prince Abyssos was a princess instead.

“You know,” she said as the day was saved and everyone drifted into a happy ending once again, “I don’t know what happened, but…” she took a deep breath, “I’m glad you found the strength to leave, C.”

I wanted to object, to let her know that whatever strength I had had been spent coming back, not leaving, to tell her that I was almost like mom after all and that no one should praise that. But it wasn’t worth it, so I grumbled something indistinct instead.

“I mean, you’re so strong and I know this is hard. So, umm, just know that we’re here to help you make it through this. My folks, Ida, even Temperance and,” she took a deep breath, “things will get better. Okay?”

I wondered about that. I couldn’t imagine what better would be like, not really. Maybe, in time, things would scar over with dad. It felt wrong to hope for that, but a part of me did anyway. But what then? Did I have a goal? A passion? Was there anything better than silly little dreams and the selfish fear of hurting others to justify existing in the end?

Inessa wrapped an arm around me and gently stroked my head. On the television, Princess Orion was already getting into another misadventure she’d be able to resolve perfectly within fifteen minutes or so. Ridiculous.

A part of me wanted to tell Inessa exactly how hollow all her optimism felt. It wasn’t worth the energy.

Inessa had to leave in the afternoon; apparently Temperance had run into a lifeguard who had been turned into a Resinner and I could hardly have Inessa skip a fight for my sake. It was just as well, I’d finally grown nearly tired enough to sleep. If anything could help me, it would be that.

I dreamed of soaring through the sky, of being selfish enough to shout, to lay all my problems at everyone else’s feet and lay claim to all the strength and beauty I didn’t deserve and wasn’t allowed to want. In dreams, the night air was more than a silent offer, it was a constant companion, as reliable as my wolf. In dreams I was not alone. In dreams I could abandon past and future and just exist in one moment of adrenaline to the next.

I could steal Inessa’s fire and throw it at Temperance for daring to put all these thoughts in my head about what I could never be, and for being all those things and having the world itself acknowledge her.

I could break Ida’s balance with jets of water for daring to keep trying until she made it. A bit of shattered glass wouldn’t have broken her resolve. It wouldn’t have happened to her anyway. She was tough and strong and good and any of her anxieties rang hollow to my ears. And of course that wasn’t true, and of course I wasn’t allowed to even think such thoughts. But I was dreaming, and no one could blame you for being petty in a dream.

I could bury Inessa in a wave of disrupted earth for daring to have the courage to face herself; for being beautiful both inside and out when all I could manage in a dream was a pitiful mockery of the former. I could crush her here for having a family that wouldn’t stop caring, that would accept a useless shell of a boy into their home just because he was hurting.

Mostly, I tried to crush her for managing to be the kind of person who was able to keep loving me when I didn’t deserve it.

Of course they fought back; they pushed, and refused to bow to the dark. No matter how high above them silent wings bore me through the night, they still sent me tumbling back to earth. The pain too was good.

Tonight Avaritia didn’t fight. Ey knew, for all we couldn’t talk, that I needed to fight alone, even if it broke me. So I fought and sang until there was nothing left to scream and I pushed them to the brink. Only then did I let them rout me into my partner’s comforting arms.

The battle was lost, but the night remained ours. I couldn’t understand eir words, but Avaritia’s grin as ey lead me through the dark told it had only just begun.

---

I woke up on the floor next to Inessa’s couch, feeling almost well enough to be okay existing for all my body had developed a number of aches.

It was still dark outside, and not even Mr. Brandt was awake yet. Someone had left a bag of clothing,a laptop case and a smartphone on the couch. The phone was dead of course, and it seemed like he had forgotten to send a charger.

I tried to stand, and winced instead. Spending most of an afternoon and all night sleeping on a couch had left me achingly sore.

So I dragged my body into a steaming hot shower and left feeling like a decent facsimile of a human being.

I hated the silence back home; the fact that it was better than the alternative only reminded me how much had changed. In Inessa’s house, the silence felt peaceful, a welcome intermission in the noise of a vibrant everyday life. A house with that kind of silence didn’t deserve me.

I looked at my things and thought, once more, of simply walking away. Of course Inessa and her family might have blamed themselves if I did that. No, whatever little choice had ever been there had died the second I found myself at Inessa’s door.

Instead, I fished out my laptop and spent a few mindless hours browsing the net, reading silly stories that could never be and wishing the world could just pass me by.

Eventually Mr. Brandt rose to handle breakfast. He was unusually subdued and I wasn’t sure if he was endeavoring to give me whatever peace I could find or if the early mornings were simply a quiet time for him to ready himself for the day. Either way, Inessa was up soon after. Even managing to look like she’d lost a duel against Avaritia in her sleep, my childhood friend was hardly as serene a presence as her father.

“W-what happens next?” I asked after Inessa’s mom stumbled to the breakfast table and secured her first coffee of the day.

“I mean,” I added before anyone could respond. “I’m grateful. This is, umm,” something ached, “More than I deserve. But, I can’t just impose on you forever.” And he hadn’t hit me and he’d looked sad when he’d realized what he’d done. He wasn’t… Maybe something could still be saved there.

Inessa’s parents looked to each other. “Charlie,” Mrs. Brandt spoke first. “You aren’t imposing on us. You’re welcome here as long as you want.”

I wanted to believe them. But they’d get sick of me sitting around uselessly sooner or later. I’d get sick of taking advantage of them just as quickly. It would be better for all of us if I didn’t stay long enough for anything like that to happen.

“As for now,” Inessa’s parents looked to each other, “You’re 18,” Mrs. Brandt confirmed. “No one can make you go back.”

“It’s okay if you don’t know what’s happening. This would be a lot for anyone to go through,” Mr. Brandt smoothly interjected. “Take a few days to settle. We’re here whenever you feel ready to talk.”

I smiled at that. If only it could be so easy.

--

I would probably have spent the day moping again, but, as many Resinners have discovered, Inessa Brandt is a force of nature. And she was convinced that ‘getting some air would be good for us.’

And that meant that we soon ended up sitting in the park nursing paper cups full of hot coffee. The day was cold enough that no one else was there and it lent an air of familiarity to the strange new status quo.

“I came here on Friday, you know?” I laughed a little as we sat down.

“You did?” Inessa asked, confused.

“Before I decided that I would go to you after all.” Inessa sucked in a breath of air at that and I winced. I hadn’t meant it to carry any emotion at all, much less condemnation at her choice of venue.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” she asked, fiddling awkwardly with her phone.

“Anywhere’s fine,” I tried to give her a reassuring smile. It probably didn’t work. We huddled together and drank our coffee and said nothing and of all things, that wasn’t so bad.

“C,” Inessa asked eventually. “What would you have done if you didn’t come to us when… whatever it was happened?”

“I don’t know,” I lied. “I guess I just couldn’t think. I started moving and I couldn’t stop and then, well,” I glanced around at the park. It was hard to admit that last Friday’s misadventures meant something to me.

Unfortunately, any such musings were cut off by a familiar greeting.

“C.” Temperance’s voice was unmistakable and I bit my lip. I wanted to be angry at her still, but mostly I simply didn’t have the energy to care that she’d lied or to resolve things and make friends again.

I craned my head around to find her advancing on us, Ida steadfastly in tow.

“How are you?” Temperance asked.

I shrugged, “Hanging in there. You?”

Inessa must have set me up. It was just like her to meddle, to think that patching things up with friends would be the boost I needed to make it through the week after everything. I wanted to run; I didn’t really have the energy for that either.

“I’m sorry,” Temperance said, sounding legitimately apologetic for once in her life. “I,” she froze. This was, perhaps, the third time I’d seen her actually uncertain of herself. “I couldn’t tell you before you knew and I wanted to help somehow to make amends and..”

I didn’t need this. I couldn’t handle this.

“It’s fine,” I said with a smile. “I’m sure you were trying to find the time to talk about being Gula and then one thing led to another and… no one else wanted to say it for you.” Perhaps that was true for Temperance. I didn’t know, but Inessa had all but admitted to simply forgetting. I didn’t want to think about that, to remember everything else that I hated in my life beyond my abusive father.

Temperance sagged in relief. “Sorry,” she said again. Then she paused and looked at me. Something like joy flashed across her face.

“I do like the earrings though.” She sounded pleased with that, as if she’d observed some strange fact that made any sense at all.

“Temperance, not today. I’m never going to wear—” I tugged my ears to demonstrate, only to find my hand touching against hard metal. “Thanks. I just,” had no idea what was happening. “ I needed the change.” The park was shaking and I was glad I was sitting or else I might have lost my balance and broken the illusion that I was remotely in control.

Inessa looked at me in confusion. Temperance seemed relieved to hear this, as if getting earrings would somehow change the fact that my dad was abusive after all and not just a drunk, as if that would change the fact that I’d taken the same way out mom had no matter how many times I swore I wouldn’t.

No, I refused to feel giddy or excited or terrified or anything at all over sitting in a park wearing what I somehow knew was a pair of green apple studs.

“They’re almost as bright as your eyes,” Inessa noted, feigning comprehension. I found myself unable to breathe as we looked at each other and slowly realized what that meant. My eyes were not supposed to be a bright green.

“C,” Inessa’s voice went from fake reassurance to very real worry. I thought of a green haired girl in all the mirrors in my dreams. I tried not to hope. Even after all this, I wasn’t allowed to hope it was real. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Lupin had picked out the earrings, specifically for me. Lupin had called me eir partner, eir ‘bestie’ overnight, right after Avaritia had failed to make me into an ally, right after my dreams had started.

They couldn’t be real. They weren’t allowed to be real. If they were real, I could be beautiful and strong enough to matter. If they were real, I had hurt my friends again and again because deep down I….

I envied them.

I envied them. And not in the passing way, I’d often admitted. Deeper than admiration or love or friendship, I envied them so much it hurt to be in their presence. We were all flawed, we all had our weaknesses. And yet, they were chosen to take the stage; to stand, to grow, to help others. Why did they get to be the kind of people who were worthy to become something more? Why did I have to remain this sad disgusting boy whose own father saw him for a worthless bug?

“I think,” I said slowly. There was only one choice really. I could sense it now, another of the lies I’d told myself crumbling down around me. The power had always been there, growing, spreading, changing me inch by inch to make me everything I admired.

And yet.. It wasn’t real, not yet. It was enough to let me act in dreams, to twist my perception enough that I could lie to myself, to let me put up all the walls I needed to draw on its power, but, my sin didn’t own me. I could feel it inside me and it was clear. There was no real point to sin if it wasn’t something you chose. The little games it had let me play? The teasers, the tastes, the way I let it filter my view of everything so I could deny just enough.

Inessa had called me half-formed. She wasn’t wrong.

I could tell them, I realized. That was the right thing to do. I could refuse that dark little emotion at my core and let the saints exorcize me and clear the world of one Beast. That’s what a good person would have done.

And yet, I thought of the dreams, of how I actually got to feel good about myself for once in them, about how I could be something enough that it didn’t matter if I didn’t belong anywhere. I thought of the last time I’d been in this very park, how much I’d fantasized about the other choice. This was a fair compromise wasn’t it? It was wrong, but, they couldn’t blame themselves for this.

All I had to do was avoid naming my sin, avoid claiming it, and it couldn’t be real.

“Oh,” I rubbed the back of my head. “Umm,” on reflection, telling your friends that you, an ordinary boy, happen to have been the evil monster masquerading as a clone of your best friend from childhood who was a girl was awkward for more reasons than the whole part about beating them up a bunch.

“I think I’m, umm, that mystery beast,” I scratched the back of my head.

Temperance was the fastest to react, slipping back into a wary position, toying with a bracelet on her wrist, no doubt ready to transform.

Ida was only slightly slower, positioning herself in front of the blue haired girl, poised to buy time, to take the hits if I decided to, once again, attack the only people who cared about me in the world.

Inessa leaned toward me instead, “Are you sure?” She knew I was hanging by a thread. And yet, she alone didn’t even think I might hurt her.

I stood up and took a step away, prompting Ida and Temperance to tense, then spun to face the others.

“I am,” I admitted. Now that I knew, I could feel the taste of envy’s flower on the tip of my tongue. The words were there, I had only to speak them to let it bloom in truth.

“We can help you.” Inessa didn’t ask if I’d been in control, didn’t ask if I’d chosen to make monsters, to fight against the Saints. It must have seemed impossible, that poor pathetic little C would do any of those things of his own initiative.

“Let us bring you to Michael. We’ll figure it out and keep you safe. I promise, we’ll protect you C,” I think I might have let her; if she had judged me a little, if she had looked and seen a person who wanted so badly to fall. But no, even now she was only talking at the phantom of a better friend.

Inessa never doubted me, never thought she might need to listen, never saw me as something that might not want to be protected the way I’d once offered to protect her. To her, I would always be nice, safe C: a brother, a font of moral support, a victim. She couldn’t see the part of me that needed those dreams.

“I don’t need protection,” I said, and in saying so edged ever so much closer to making it true. “I don’t deserve compassion either. Deep down, all I’ve ever been, all I’ll ever be is the jealous bat watching from the rafters, too scared to step into the light of day. But that jealousy is my strength, my drive, my gift.”

I spun in place, finding myself laughing freely. If only I’d known how good it felt to let go, to say the things you weren’t allowed to feel.

Then I took a step toward Inessa and, gently as I could, shoved her away from me. “It’s enough to let me pretend to be as strong and as beautiful as any of you.”

I smiled at her and took a great weight off my chest. “It calls for me, and I don’t want you to save me. You can’t save me from my envy, from Invidia.”

Something inside me writhed in joy and I found I somehow knew exactly what came next. I raised one hand and dragged it across my face. “Verdant winds of Invidia, change me!”

For one moment, I seemed to stand in a hall of envy’s mirrors reflecting every inadequacy: too tall and clumsy, too ugly, too weak, too unlovable, too unmotivated. C couldn’t change; couldn’t be anything anyone would want to be, anyone anyone would really want to have. But envy would turn each inadequacy into a font of strength.

So what if I was too big and clumsy? I could just imitate Ida’s grace. I could borrow Temperance’s stature and poise. So what if I was weak? I could mimic Inessa’s power and beauty. So what if I was pathetic; I could steal the bearing of a Saint.

Miasma wrapped around me, buffeting me as it scoured away everything unneeded, everything of Charleton in favor of something softer and smaller and prettier and perfect.

And then it condensed into soft fabric. My hands, stretched toward Inessa in welcome, found themselves covered in long black gloves. A skirt, black with green highlights copied the exact style the Saints wore. Envy could do nothing less. I toyed with the bow on my chest (and tried not to pay attention to the fact that I actually had a chest) and then nearly lost my balance as the dark left a pair of dark wings on my back.

The Saints had little feathery things, more ornament than not. Mine, flared out as the transformation left them, were a thing of another tier entirely. These were mine. The mark of envy’s beast. No matter how much the Saints outshone the sun, I would reflect their light and rule the night.

I smiled at them, tongue flicking across one of my fangs.

“With a jealous scream to shatter the night, Invidia Bat has arrived!” I let my hand fall to my side, dipping low into a curtsy and wrapping myself in my wings.

“Nice to meet you.”