“And how did that make you feel?” Yamada asked.

  “Fucking pissed,” I snapped, face feelings like it was glowing hot. “A suspension because I put some Nazi fuckboy in his place, what a joke.” I crossed my arms and let out a huff.

  “Why did that anger you?” Her voice was gentle but the question made my blood boil.

  “Are you shitting me?” I said incredulously. “He gets to mess with people, make them feel like they can’t come to school, live their lives, and I’m the one that gets in trouble. How the fuck is that okay, how is that fair?”

  “I don’t think his behaviour was acceptable,” she hedged. “But do you think your response was appropriate?”

  “Sure do,” I growled. “Far as I’m concerned, he should be grateful that I only broke his nose and didn’t crushing his limp little co—”

  “Amaranth,” Yamada interrupted me. “Fantasizing about inflicting violence may feel good now, but it’s not a healthy coping strategy.” I sighed and rolled my eyes.

  “So what?” I said, throwing my hands in the air. “I just sit here and turn the other fucking cheek? That’s what heroes do, is it?”

  “Heroes protect people,” she replied evenly. “Did you protect your classmate when you broke his nose? Or when you strained the other’s muscle?”

  “I protected everyone those rat fucks would go after,” I retorted. “And now I’m getting shafted because they weren’t wearing colours, so weren’t ‘acceptable’ targets; not like me and Amy were.”

  “That’s not how—”

  “That’s exactly how it is,” I spat. “God, fuck, whatever. No one cares so I guess I fucking shouldn’t either. Let’s just talk about something else.”

  “I understand why you’re upset, Lia,” Yamada said after a moment. “What happened today was unacceptable, and no doubt frightening given your personal experiences. But assaulting an unpowered person is not an appropriate response. Did you try talking to him, telling him that what he said wasn’t right?”

  “No,” I grumbled. “But it’s not like that would have worked.”

  “He may have continued to act inappropriately,” she offered. “But then you could have asked the security officers to intervene.” I rolled my eyes.

  “They don’t care unless they see blood,” I muttered. “No one cares about the Nazis in this city, except for the villains. Pretty fucked up isn’t it?”

  “As far as I understand, the Protectorate is trying to protect people in the south and east of the city as best they can,” Yamada said. “And I believe you confronted a group of them with Vista just last week, didn’t you?”

  “And got told off for it,” I said bitterly. “Because even though they trust us to fight Behemoth, some local gang-bangers are just too much. Look can we please just talk about something else? I’m still all wound up, I’ve got a meeting with my YGA and the deputy director after this, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to get screwed over worse than ever.” She gave me a look. “What?”

  “I’m sorry that you feel the PRT is working against you,” she said kindly. “As someone with an ear on the inside, I can promise you that they’re looking out for your best interests Lia.”

  “Whatever,” I said. “This is the part where I get extra anger management sessions or something, right?” She let out a small huff through her nose.

  “I’ll see you a few more times while you’re suspended next week,” she answered. “Along with Dr. O’Keefe, who will be replacing me.” I narrowed my eyes.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “I’m one of several therapists who rotate through different PRT offices,” Yamada explained. “My term here will end in September, and Dr. O’Keefe will begin his.”

  “Happy fucking birthday to me,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes.

  “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth Amaranth,” she said with a sigh. “There are worries about therapists getting leverage over their patients and manipulating them.”

  “Is that what you’re doing?”

  “No.”

  “Then it’s fucking stupid,” I said. “So now I have to talk to someone I don’t know about problems they won’t understand and get advice I don’t like. What a perfect capstone.”

  “Let’s discuss something else,” Yamada finally capitulated. “How is your relationship with Amy?”

  I held down the trigger of the rifle, holding it tight as the recoil made it rattle against my projection. The automatic fire ripped into my target, punching a dozen holes in the paper. I pressed the button to eject the magazine, then snatched another from the table and loaded up again. After racking the bolt, I emptied the entire magazine in a single burst, shredding the paper target. I reached for another magazine after dumping the spent one, then swore violently; no ammo.

  “Is something the matter?” Miss Militia asked from the booth next door as I cleared the rifle.

  “No more rounds,” I said bitterly, stuffing the magazines back into the gun bag. The rifle, some AR model or another, followed and I zipped it all shut before policing my brass. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have been so quick.”

  “No apology needed,” she replied evenly, poking her head around. “Are you finished then?”

  “Unless your power can restock me, yeah.”

  “Alright,” Miss Militia said with a shrug. “Would you mind waiting a few more minutes? I have some drills I need to brush up on.”

  I returned the shrug, then trudged over to the bench behind the booths. I plonked the bag down next to me and sat watching as Miss Militia continue. She was an expert, a perfect shot, with the perfect power to make her the perfect soldier. Alone, she could probably wipe out at least one of the gangs if she went all out. But she never did.

  At least she’d humoured me when I asked for some range time. Despite my outburst and subsequent suspension and fine, Miss Militia seemed happy I was asking. I didn’t really get it, but I wasn’t that bothered since it meant she was willing to break out the automatics. It didn’t help much but...it did help.

  “Thank you for your patience,” Miss Militia said as she came over, ten minutes of shooting later. “Need to keep sharp, despite my powers.”

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  “It’s fine,” I said simply. “Back to the armoury?”

  “In a moment,” she said, sitting next to me. “I’d like to ask you about the incident yesterday.” I groaned.

  “Haven’t I caught enough flak?” I asked, shooting a glare her way. “I know, I shouldn’t have done it, and I won’t do it again; can’t we just forget it and move on?”

  “I’m not here to dress you down,” she said gently. “I want to understand why you attacked those boys.”

  “Because they’re Nazi pieces of shit who deserve to be afraid.” They deserved far, far worse but that would just get me in more trouble. “If they come after me and Amy, they’ll come after people like us, and others. Now they’ll think twice, and if not then I’m glad my suspension is only a week long because I’ll fucking teach them a lesson properly next time.” She sighed.

  “You sound like another Ward who was on this team, not that long ago.”

  “Shadow Stalker,” I said with a nod. “Could really use her around right now…” She’d get it. She might not work with me because of my shitty mom, but she’d get it.

  “I understand how you feel, believe it or not,” Miss Militia said. “But we need to be able to separate anger and revenge from justice. There’s also the question of a proportional punishment.”

  “Okay,” I said, unwilling to fight this anymore. “I won’t go around beating up Nazis anymore, not until they swing first I guess.”

  “That would be an improvement,” she said dryly. “Of course if you’re assaulted, appropriate self-defense is permitted. Do you need a refresher on what that entails?”

  “I’m not fucking stupid,” I retorted, shooting her a glare.

  “I mean it genuinely, Amaranth,” Miss Militia said, her tone level. “I believe you should have the means to defend yourself and your peers appropriately when out of costume. If you’re willing, I’ll put aside some time in the coming week to teach you.”

  “What’s the catch?” I asked, crossing my arms. “Do I have to go suck those fucks off or something?”

  “You need to promise me you’ll use the tools I teach you right,” she said firmly. “You need to promise you won’t use them to terrorize your peers. I’m willing to trust your word, Amaranth. I believe you have the potential to be a great hero, but you need some guidance. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, we all did.” I studied what little of her face was exposed carefully.

  “Okay,” I said tentatively. “Sure. I guess I should learn how I’m allowed to fight.” She checked her watch.

  “If you have time, I can spare thirty minutes right now,” Miss Militia said. “Get a head start on things?”

  “Yeah okay.” I followed her out, toting the rifle bag.

  Time to learn just how little I could really do.

  “It’s just so messed up,” I complained, fitting a piece in place. “And like— hey pass me the screwdriver? Thanks.” I grabbed the tool and started fixing the part of the shelf I was working on. “Like, you were right there. Those guys started it, came up on us, and I’m the one getting screwed? Insane.”

  “It’s kind of messed up,” Amy replied, glancing up from the instructions briefly and frowning. “Uh, I don’t think that’s right.”

  “I know it’s so fucked—”

  “The shelf, Lia.”

  “Oh.” I rose and took a step back, cocking my head. “God dammit.”

  “It’s okay,” she reassured me. “It’s just cockeyed. Unscrew it and I’ll try and help.”

  I took the screw out, muttering under my breath. Couldn’t do one fucking thing right these days. At least Amy wouldn’t give me shit about it, god bless her. Once I’d undone my error, she helped me wiggling the offending piece into place, then held it while I put the screw back in. I did the others to fix the shelf in place, then we both rose and stepped back.

  “It’s…”

  “Still crooked,” I groaned.

  “I’m done,” Amy snapped, walking to the kitchen and calling over her shoulder, “Let’s take a break.” I followed after her and took a drink when offered. I cracked the can and sipped, grimaced, and looked at it.

  “Ginger beer?” I asked as she sipped her own.

  “Give it a chance,” she said. “Trust me, it’s great.” I eyed the can, then tried another sip.

  “It’s...not the worst.” That got a huff of laughter from Amy. “Sorry, we’d have been done by now if I knew what a level was.”

  “It’s fine,” Amy said. “Not like I got us any tools besides a screwdriver.”

  “I guess we’re both...screw ups?”

  “Awful.”

  “Sorry,” I apologized with a chuckle, taking a pull of my drink. “At least it’s just this then the bed frame right? And putting the mattress on it, I guess.”

  “Yeah, you can go home after,” she said with a nod. “I know it’s getting kinda late.”

  “It’s fine, I only have school tomorrow,” I replied, shuffling over and leaning against her. “How’d you afford all this stuff anyway?”

  “PRT set me up to get the basics,” Amy answered. “Nothing like, fancy, not even a computer or TV. I guess at least I won’t be sleeping on the floor…”

  “Pretty cool,” I said. “All I got from them was another fine.”

  “Lia..."

  “Sorry, sorry.” I sighed. “I wish I could just leave it at the door Amy.”

  “It’s not that,” Amy said, shaking her head. “Just… You’ve kind of been going on since you got here. Maybe you need to take a break too.”

  “I guess,” I grumbled. “Sorry, ruining our day.”

  “You haven’t yet,” she said, giving me a quick side-hug. “How about you make us something to eat and I try to figure out the shelf?”

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “I can do it fine and—” Her lips met mine and stopped my rambling.

  “It’s okay,” she said as my cheeks heated.

  “Okay,” I said, voice small.

  Amy returned to the living room and I opened the fridge and sighed; we weren’t having ginger beer for dinner. I went to the freezer instead, where there was at least a shitty frozen pizza. Well, it wasn’t exactly gourmet… I set the oven and headed into the living room, rummaging in the few boxes Amy had until I found some plates. She was grumbling over the shelf and I paused, giving her a brief kiss before returning to the kitchen.

  I shook off the worries I’d distracted her by focusing on food. I washed up the plates, then took the pizza from the freezer and popped it in the oven. After I set the timer, it was just a waiting game. I poked my head into the living room and it looked like Amy was making progress; more than I’d been anyway. I decided not to bother her and continued waiting for the pizza.

  I hoped I hadn’t ruined things by being such a bitch all night. All weekend, really. It felt like everyone was just pretending things were normal when the Scar was still glowing and its coffin wasn’t half done, or when the buildings that had been firebombed were still sitting as crumbled, cratered ruins. I sighed as the timer dinged, shaking my head and grabbing a cloth. I pulled the pizza out and set it on the stovetop with a loud ‘clank’. I turned to call A—

  Amy loomed over me, a smile on her face. She was close enough to block out the light, her frizzy hair made a golden halo around her head. I gripped the stove door handle as I flushed from my neck up. Jesus when had she gotten so tall? She frowned and gripped my forearm gently. It tingled like I’d licked a battery, and I swallowed against my suddenly dry mouth.

  “Are you o—”

  “Dinner!” I squeaked, whirling back as my heart pounded in my ears.

  I heard Amy’s footsteps retreat and let out a shaky breath. Why, why had I reacted like that? Did I have a thing for tall girls? Amy wasn’t really that tall, all things considered, but taller than me wasn’t much of an accomplishment. I shut my eyes and tried to get myself under control. Had to cut up the pizza still.

  Fortunately, I had a projection so my shaky hands didn’t matter all that much. A minute later, I brought two plates with a piece for each of us and joined her on the little loveseat that had come up earlier. I handed off her pizza and cosied up next to her, heart still racing. I was overheated and jitterey, but I wanted to be here.

  “Sorry,” Amy apologized.

  “No you didn’t do anything wrong,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry, I just got startled and then felt weird and freaked out. It’s not on you I’m just…” I trailed off and shrugged, then took a bite of my pizza.

  “Felt weird...how?” she asked. I swallowed hard, wincing.

  “Um, uh, well,” I stammered, fiddling with my hair. “It was...hot?” I hated how my voice cracked. I hated how her eyes widened.

  “It was…” Amy blinked owlishly. “Oh.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I’ve…” She frowned. “Vicky’s the only person who’s called me hot.”

  “Ah.” Yeah, that made sense sadly.

  “It’s not bad just, I don’t know.” She waggled her head. “Weird.” I nodded.

  “Do you want me to stop?” I asked.

  “No,” Amy said. There was no give in her voice. “I like it, I think.”

  “Okay, well, um, you’re hot.” We shared a giggle and I took another bite of my pizza. “This is kind of nice.”

  “Yeah,” she sighed, leaning more of her weight against me. “Thanks for helping me move.”

  “No problem,” I said, then licked my lips. “Hey, um, would it be cool if I like, maybe...stayed the night?” Just as soon as she’d relaxed, she stiffened.

  “Um.”

  “You don’t have to say yes, it’s really okay,” I added. “I don’t want to impose or—”

  “Sure,” she cut me off. “It...sounds nicer than being alone.”

  “Cool,” I breathed.

  We ate quietly cuddling on the couch. The world might be going crazy, but at least it didn’t feel like it in here.