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At first, the job was fine.
Breaking and entering, procuration and subsequent deletion of classified documents, and some light assault on the side.
It—it was fine.
Kanade had hacked into the facilities in the depths of night, had Ena distract the guards with her super-speed and managed to download and swipe a USB port containing corrupt information that could, in the wrong hands, bring those in Shibuya making less than seven (yes, seven) figures to their knees.
Now Kanade was on top of a tower, bracing herself against the huge gusts of wind and praying Mizuki would be able to fly their get-away helicopter up before a stray hero or guard shows up and shoots her to death.
She pressed a hand to her ear—activating the device clipped onto its bridge—and glanced out at the sky.
“Mizuki, where are you?”
The microphone buzzed to life.
(“SORRY, ENA—”)
“A little quieter, please.”
(“AH—okay, yeah, I adjusted it. Sorry, Ena went down the wrong path and got cornered by one of the guards so I had to play dual-distraction. I'll be there in five!”)
“Okay.”
The walkie-talkie clicked and then went silent.
So, this was a relatively simple task.
Get in, get the data, and get out with minimal casualties or loss of sanity.
And honestly, despite the small bump in the road, this would be a quick and easy job for N25, one of the most prolific anti-hero groups in the world—
If it wasn't for Mafuyu—the latest and greatest wrench in their plans.
Mafuyu Asahina, a relatively-new superhero that fought crime and was subsequently lauded with enough attention, praise, and awards that one would think she was God—if God was a mentally unstable teenage girl living in Japan.
Little did anyone know, Mafuyu—the “perfect” superhero—was once a part of N25, under the codename ‘Yuki’—and is currently Kanade’s shitty ex.
Damn it.
As Kanade waited on that city tower, USB port in hand and eyes up and searching for her ride, she caught the glimpse of something moving in the edges of her vision.
Not moving, per se—more like distorting, concrete stone and iron gates wobbling in the air like the edges of a flame.
A sign that someone who was definitely not supposed to be there was there.
Kanade whipped around, reached into her pocket, and drew out a tiny metal tube that in the blink of an eye expanded into a blue holographic shield—raising it to her head and preventing the invisible hand that was aimed to slam through her cranium from finding purchase.
The impact set them both flying—Kanade teetering precariously at the edge of the un-railed tower and the other person shooting away from her. A spray of debris flew up into the air, buying Kanade enough time to leap up and gather her senses.
The dust settled—and a girl in an all-purple bodysuit with black accents came into view.
Kanade sighed, pocketing her USB.
“I thought you didn't like spandex.”
Mafuyu blinked slowly at her. “It wasn't my choice.”
“How long will you hide behind that excuse?”
____________
Mafuyu’s eyes narrowed and in a flurry of ripples, she blurred into her surroundings, the rap-tap-tapping of invisible feet Kanade’s only sign that someone was fast approaching.
But K wasn't stupid.
No, she wasn’t one of the best hackers in the world for nothing—her eyes were trained to detect any slight disturbances in the world, digital or otherwise, and she repelled Mafuyu’s attacks with the ease of a person who had seen the ability in use many times over.
You know, they say no matter how much theory you consume, you can't prepare yourself for the experience of the real thing.
(Un)fortunately, Kanade’s experienced invisibility from Mafuyu’s stint with the team enough times to know what to look for—a slight ripple in the air, distortions on objects through and around the invisible figure, like a filter slapped on the canvas of real life.
She's seen those same vibrations in the air when the two would fight together during a job, lean on each other’s shoulders after a mission well-done or curl up in bed when Mafuyu was having another panic attack from her mom’s shitty parenting.
Mafuyu used invisibility as both a power and coping mechanism—what a slap in the face, when she used the very same trick to sneak out on her for the Asahina Superhero Treatment.
Kanade grimaced as another punch landed on her shield.
She was balanced precariously on the edge of the tower, blocking hit by hit by the superhero—damn it, why didn't I bring my actual weapons—and trying not to think of the consequences when Mafuyu inevitably broke through the barrier (heady concussion, confiscation of the USB, and a quick ship to the electric chair, probably).
Her earphone buzzed loudly, and Kanade cringed as she deflected yet another attack from the invisible superhero.
“What?”
(“Shit—uh, we’re here, we're under you, but don't really wanna get caught in the middle of your fight.”) The microphone crackled. (“Ena has a plan—if I extend the net on the side of the helicopter, we can catch you if you fall, but whoever you're fighting can't get on board.”)
Kanade chewed on the inside of her lip.
“Ah—okay, fine, that should work.”
(“Are you sure? Pardon my French but you, ah, seem like you're getting your ass kicked—if you want, we can raise the chopper and have Ena come in to help.”)
Kanade frowned. Ena hasn't seen enough invisibility—joining at the tail end of Mafuyu’s anti-hero career—to be a real help.
Another flash and Kanade whipped her arms around to block a kick from the side, cringing as flecks started coming off of her shield—
“It's fine, I can handle this.”
(“..If you're sure. The net needs about three minutes to fully expand—can you stall?”)
“Ah—alright.”
Three minutes, one-eighty seconds, go!
Kanade straightened up—and cowered back down as an impact against her shield threatened to send her sprawling down the side of the tower.
This is not gonna work.
Second option: diplomacy?
“Mafuyu!”
Another flash of movement, and Kanade lowered her shield to her stomach.
“Mafuyu, I want to talk!”
Her shield was starting to fall apart—at one of Mafuyu’s particularly baleful attacks, a thin line cracked down its center as digital particles began flaking away.
God, she was so tired—tired of Mafuyu always running away, always playing the perfect puppet to her duties, of forcing the people who actually cared about her away to enjoy fame and honor.
She was so tired of playing second fiddle to Mafuyu’s desires.
Something in Kanade forced its way out, hot and heavy, and at another attack, she screamed—
“Yuki, you piece of shit, at least give me an explanation!”
Tears pooled in the crook of Kanade’s eyes and traced a jerky line down her jaw—falling with a plink onto her collarbone.
Oh.
I'm crying.
The punch that Kanade expected to land on her face was curiously absent—a sign that the girl was, at least for a while, hearing her out.
“Mafuyu—at least tell me why you left us! Why you—you drained all of our compassion and then up and ditched us for the high-road like some happiness vampire! What, we didn’t satisfy your ego-boost quota, so you threw us away like used trash once something better opened up? Was N25 not enough? Were we not enough?”
Kanade’s hand fell to her side.
“Was—was I not enough?”
____________
Slowly, the air in front of her began glimmering.
Mafuyu’s stricken face slowly appeared, half a head above her, followed by the rest of her body—dazzling arrays of lilac and midnight, standing prone in front of the hacker.
Her eyes, normally a dull gradient purple, glimmered with some emotion that made Kanade both want to slap her and kiss her until their lips turned blue.
(“The net’s open!”)
Mafuyu raised a arm to Kanade’s face—eyes widening at how the white-haired girl flinched when she drew her hand up and cradled Kanade’s jawline.
Purple met blue as the two made eye contact—one filled with tears and the other rotting over with shock.
“Kanade—” Mafuyu’s voice broke.
“Kanade, you were everything to me.”
The white-haired girl let out a shuddering breath.
“So why did you leave?”
Mafuyu’s eyes lowered.
“Kanade, it's not that simple.”
“It seemed pretty simple to you when you walked out on us without even a word in advance.”
Mafuyu’s brow scrunched and her voice dipped into something lower, something cowardly and condescending. “Kanade, my parents made me who I am. Everything—everything that I have is from them. I have to follow them.”
Oh, and that's the problem.
She’s brainwashed.
She thinks that she has to make her family proud at all costs—and she puts that in front of everything else.
In front of her well-being, her friends, her partner.
Mafuyu, for all her bravado and power, is nothing but a puppet—and the worst part was, Kanade couldn't even be mad at her for dancing to the puppetmaster's song.
Even looking at her made feelings, harsh and raw, flare up in her chest—shitty reminders that lovers are hard to get over.
“But—Kanade. It doesn't have to be this way.”
Mafuyu’s eyes turned blank.
“You're an amazing hacker. If you come to the superhero’s side and agree to work for them, I’m sure they'll pardon you for your crimes. Give you a stupendous salary and prestige. And we can work together again. Be partners. Go back to the way we were before.”
Kanade’s mouth curled into a snarl.
A puppet reciting lines from a script—what have you become, Mafuyu?
You've forgotten our purpose.
By allying yourselves with the “heros”, you've become a servant—a caterer to the rich, and a bully to everyone else.
If you like your deception and tricks so much, how about this?
Kanade placed a hand against Mafuyu’s, noting the way her eyes glinted at the contact.
“Mafuyu.”
The girl’s lips turned up into an unsure smile. "Yeah?”
And with a flash, Kanade summoned her shield again, crashing it into the side of Mafuyu’s face.
The girl—thoroughly disarmed—lolled to the ground. Her head swung like a discarded doll’s, flung carelessly in the trash.
Kanade allowed herself to savor the bubbling feeling of revenge in her stomach.
“—what a joke.”
The last of Kanade’s shield flickered away.
She tossed the empty metal tube to the side of Mafuyu’s face—only pausing long enough to press her fingers into the girl's carotid and make sure she was still alive.
(And as if by instinct, pressing a kiss to the worn girl’s temple, eyes softening slightly.)
Kanade walked to the edge of the tower, now glimmering with the barest amount of sunrise-light. Under her, a black helicopter whirred and clicked noisily—a fine net stuck out from its side.
She cast one last glance at the superhero.
“Goodbye, Mafuyu.”
And with a start, Kanade leaped off the edge of the tower, sailing down to the darkness below.