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Infume stifled a yawn and tried to focus. Ever since he committed to becoming a vigilante, his sleep schedule had been more messed up than ever. He was lucky that his boss, Feinberg, was also always late and never noticed Infume regularly failing to open the café on time.
Getting the job at ‘Local Bakery’ was a stroke of good luck. He needed a source of income to fund his escapades, especially the many gadgets he purchased from Fulham, and there was no way he would get a well-paying job at twenty with no education or experience. He knew some vigilantes took money from the people they fought or engaged in some other illegal activities, but he was always too scared to try. Maybe it was stupid, since being a vigilante was by itself illegal, but he just felt like it was too risky.
Infume didn’t know how they stayed open, considering Feinberg’s abysmal business sense. Before he offered to take care of the accounting, his boss said he just did it ‘based on vibes’, which sounded terrifying. The only thing Feinberg cared about was the quality of pastries they were selling, which were all delivered in the morning. Infume made sure to always be available to receive the order, even if he wasn’t ready to open the café. He could also pick out one free snack and drink during his shift, which was awesome.
They didn’t have any clients, probably because they were located in one of the sketchier districts of the Ranked City. The only reason Infume even felt comfortable coming in so early was because of his experience as a vigilante. He suspected this might have been part of the reason he got the job– no one else applied. It was nice to walk through the empty city, the sun slowly peeking out from behind the horizon and music blasting through his headphones.
Infume turned on the giant coffee machine so it would start warming up and got out from behind the counter to wipe down the tables and sweep the floor. He thought the layout was very cozy. There were some booths next to the windows and the rest of the floorspace was taken up by tables and a very pretty selection of printed paintings, commissioned by Feinberg. The plants dotted around the place and hanging from the ceiling completed the picture. There were also speakers which allowed Infume to play music of his choice, another perk of the job.
Infume leaned down to change out the pastry display in the front window and winced in pain when he felt the twinge in his side. Falling on it yesterday really did a number on him. When he checked himself over in the mirror while getting ready he could see a bruise forming. He still couldn’t believe this was the only reminder of his meeting with Blizzard. While the villain didn’t go out of his way to kill people, he was no pacifist and Infume did punch him.
He flipped the sign to ‘Open’ just as Feinberg came through the staff door. He looked around and nodded with approval.
‘Yo Infume, I’ll mostly be in the back today. I stayed up today and I’m fried’ he punctuated his point with a yawn. ‘I’ll pay you extra, don’t worry.’
‘Sure man, that’s fine’ Infume wasn’t sure Feinberg knew how salaries worked, but he wasn’t complaining. Considering the fact that he was getting paid mostly to stand around and doomscroll while occasionally making fancy drinks, Feinberg was being very generous.
The door to the staff room closed and Infume was once again left alone. He leaned against the counter next to the coffee machine, took out his phone, and settled in for a long wait.
‘Local Bakery’ didn’t have many customers, but Feinberg never seemed worried about it. Every time Infume let him know they were once again in the red for the month, he just responded with ‘that’s chill’. He once mentioned that he just wanted to support the community, which sounded respectable. Infume liked to think they were similar in that way.
He was torn away from watching another edit of Blizzard by the sound of the café door opening. He quickly shut off the screen and went up to the counter, pasting on his customer service smile.
The first thing he noticed about the man was the fact that he looked out of place. He was wearing a gigantic coat, which looked much too big for him. He was quite a lot shorter than Infume and was looking around as if he was about to be attacked.
‘Are you okay man?’ he jolted as if he didn’t notice anyone was present. His suspicious expression was instantly replaced with a wide smile, which looked equally off-putting.
‘No, thank you. I’m just looking around’ he stared at the pastry display as if it was poison. Infume thought he sounded oddly familiar.
‘Can I recommend anything?’ Infume didn’t really drink coffee, and usually ate the same three muffins on rotation, but it seemed right to ask. It’s not like Feinberg gave him any extensive training aside from telling him to get him if a customer was being difficult.
‘I’ll just get a regular coffee and… this’ the man pointed at a piece of carrot cake.
‘Sure, no problem’ Infume punched the order into the register. ‘Could I get a name for the order?’
‘Couri-’ the customer’s eyes widened in alarm and he abruptly stopped, letting out a weird mix of a laugh and a cough. ‘Yeah. Couri. That’s my name. Sure.’
Infume felt as if the ground had just disappeared from under his feet. It suddenly felt obvious why the stranger sounded so familiar. He heard his voice calling out his vigilante name during patrol. It also explained the weird coat. The hero was clearly using it to hide his wings, which would make him very recognizable.
Infume wracked his brain for any reason for one of the top heroes to be here. He couldn’t really think of anything, other than the fact his vigilante identity somehow got compromised and he was about to get arrested. Why else would Couriway himself bother to show up? He turned around to prepare the coffee, hands shaking. He could swear the hero was staring at him while he fumbled the first time and had to start over. When he was done he turned around and set the full order on the counter.
‘Thanks’ Couriway shot him a smile, which now Infume instantly recognized as the one he had during his many interviews. He moved to sit in one of the booths, not touching either of the things he ordered.
For a few minutes Infume busied himself with reordering all the syrups he used to make the drinks and setting them back in order. After that he hesitantly looked around, just to find Couriway staring at him. He quickly averted his eyes and seriously considered telling Feinberg he was ill, just so he could escape through the back door. With a bit of luck the hero wouldn’t notice something was amiss immediately and he would have time to pack the most important things in his flat before having to go underground. Surely Derapchu wouldn’t mind a roommate.
Before he could set the plan in motion, Couriway decided to break the silence.
‘Say, are you the owner of this place? Just curious’ Infume hysterically thought he was terrible at staying inconspicuous.
‘No, I just work here. How would I get enough money to buy a place like this?’
‘No, yeah, that’s actually so true, you’re right’ Couriway gave him a meaningful look, and Infume wondered whether he should feel insulted.
‘Would you like me to get the owner? He’s in the back’ he offered, just happy to have an excuse to get a minute to gather his thoughts.
Couriway’s eyes widened in alarm.
‘No, no, it’s chill’ he returned to staring at his yet untouched food, occasionally stealing glances in Infume’s direction.
The rest of his shift was torture. Couriway spent the next three hours watching each new customer like a hawk with an increasingly unhappy expression, and Infume did his best not to have a panic attack while taking orders. The fact that Blizzard’s stunt with the ice wall the day before had been mentioned on the news didn’t help. On the grainy footage taken from a street camera he could see himself in his vigilante costume, slipping away into the night. It just confirmed his suspicion that Couriway being here was not a coincidence.
At around noon, the hero seemingly out of nowhere stood up and stormed out, almost knocking over one of the plants on the way. When Infume was certain he wasn’t coming back, he let out a sigh of relief. Maybe they didn’t have enough proof to arrest him just yet, and sent someone out to look for anything suspicious? Whatever the reason, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
‘Sooo, what did he want?’ he let out a surprised yelp, not expecting Feinberg to emerge from hiding so early. Seeing him so alert, with his mouth pursed in a line, was strange.
‘I dunno man, it was weird. I swear he looked familiar’ Infume figured it was safe to reveal that much. ‘He was asking about you. Maybe he was a hero in disguise?’ Feinberg let out a displeased hum at this.
Infume knew he wasn’t the biggest fan of heroes, which made sense. While his boss wasn’t Auraless, he might as well have been. During one of their conversations, when they were alone in the empty café, Feinberg revealed the only thing his Aura gave him was poisonous blood. He also told him that at one point he dreamed of being a hero, which his lack of a suitable Aura obviously made impossible. For a while he was studying to become a professional analyst, to still be part of the industry, but became aware of the many issues present in the hero system. They didn’t discuss it much further, but Infume was familiar with a lot of them, on account of being Auraless himself. There was a reason why he didn’t even attempt the road Feinberg went down.
‘Listen, if he shows up again, just get me, all right? I’ll handle it.’
‘I can handle myself’ Infume couldn’t stop himself from feeling offended. He knew it probably wasn’t the wisest for him to even be around Couriway, but Feinberg didn’t know about the reason for that. The thought that he was being treated as weak just because of his lack of Aura pissed him off.
‘Dude, of course I know that. Wait, my bad. It’s not because you have no Aura, I just know why he’s here. I said it in a bad way, I’m sorry’ Fein ran a hand through his hair.
‘I guess you’ll just have to stop sleeping in the back then, if you want to talk to him so bad’ Infume’s proposition was met with an annoyed groan, but he could see his boss smiling.
‘Whatever bro, don’t you have anywhere else to be?’ he moved to take Infume’s place behind the counter.
‘No? I still have like three hours left of my shift, are we trolling?’
‘Just go home early, I’ll still pay you. Consider it an apology or whatever’ Infume was once again tempted to ask Feinberg whether he knew how having employees worked, but he really wanted to just go home and chill out after almost getting a heart attack thanks to Couriway.
On the way to his house he made sure to double back a few times and pay attention to anyone who looked like they might be following him. He couldn’t see anyone, which calmed him down a bit. Unfortunately, as soon as the doors of his apartment closed behind him he got a call from Derapchu. He answered it, already dreading what he was about to hear.
‘Yooo Phantom, what’s good?’
‘What do you want man?’ Infume knew he sounded annoyed, but he didn’t really care. He figured he was allowed after the day he’d just had.
‘Hello? You’re the one that’s always begging me for shit’ he was unfortunately correct, so Infume didn’t say anything. ‘I just wanted to find out what the fuck is going on between you and Blizzard.’
Infume felt himself blush.
‘Bro, don’t say it like that, you’re so weird’ his friend just laughed in response.
‘What? Are we serious? You’re the one who apparently managed to somehow get away from him, and now you’re getting invited as his plus one to the Equalizer thing!’
‘What do you mean?’ Infume thought his day couldn’t get any weirder, but apparently everything was possible. Everyone in the underground was aware of the events organized by the villain, but he never even tried to get an invite. It was similar to many other illegal fighting rings, the only difference was the fact that no one was allowed to use their Aura. To ensure this, before the fight everyone had to get injected with a special drug, invented by the villain himself. It made your Aura stop working for a few hours, or until you got the antidote. To Infume’s knowledge no one knew how Equalizer managed to develop it, when no one else ever did.
The event was very exclusive, since most heroes would love an opportunity to arrest many prominent figures in the criminal underground while they were unable to use their Aura. It was a bit strange that Hax decided to accept the invitation, since in Infume’s opinion he relied on his Aura a lot while fighting. It was even stranger that he apparently wanted Infume to be his duo.
‘Yeah, he asked me to pass the message along’ continued Derapchu, oblivious to his internal struggle. On the one hand, it was a terrible idea to get even more tangled up in illegal activity while a prominent hero like Couriway was sniffing around. On the other, he could still remember the wonder with which Blizzard had talked about his abilities, the acceptance of his lack of Aura. This could be the only opportunity to see him again in a context where they would have to work together. There was also the prize pool, funded through bets and expensive entry fees from participants. Maybe he could finally get Fulham to start working on that scanner he told him about, which would allow the user to detect Aura usage nearby. The offer could also just be a trap, a way for Blizzard to lure him somewhere and get his revenge. It felt terrible to think about, but Infume supposed it was possible.
‘Tell him I accept, and ask him where he wants to meet’ Derapchu exclaimed in excitement, and Infume just hoped he wouldn’t regret his choice.