We brought all the newly delivered supplies into the basement, stacking them into a small mountain—a staggering reminder of how much I’d spent. My eyes almost teared up, while Jade looked more excited than ever. With a few hours left before sunset, we got straight to work. The first task: sorting the chaos into something manageable. Guns went in one pile, fabric in another, and then the grab-bag of gadgets—half of which I still wasn’t sure we’d actually need. Just the sorting took two hours, and setting up the fabric station ate the rest of the daylight.
Jade had already decided on her colors: white and grey, a combination so perfectly her—half dreamy, half mischievous. I’d gone with black and dark blue, practical shades that wouldn’t show dirt or wear. No room for fancy when you’re expecting your gear to take a beating.
I spread a sheet of paper across the workstation, weighing the edges down with a few loose tools. Time to draft patterns—no room for mistakes when every scrap of material cost more than I wanted to think about. “What do you want for your face?” I asked, pencil poised above the blank page. “Hood, eye mask, or full mask?”
Jade tilted her head, considering. “Eye mask,” she said finally, her voice casual but thoughtful.
“Alright.” I scribbled it down. “You might want to change your hair, though. Something different so people don’t recognize you.”
She gave a small nod, but I could tell she wasn’t worried. Still, the thought that had been nagging me all day slipped out. “Not that it’ll matter. One photo, one video—someone’s bound to figure us out eventually, masks or no masks.”
Jade didn’t miss a beat. “I could use my meta to interfere,” she said, like she was offering to help carry groceries.
I froze, my pencil hovering above the page. Slowly, I turned to look at her, eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”
"As long as something has a connection to me, it doesn’t matter the time or space—I can influence it to some degree," she explained, warming to her topic.
"For example, I can make sure a picture with our faces or even the camera that took it meets an accident. Memories can get corrupted, pictures can be burned. Too many variables for me to play," She said it with evident pride, like a kid showing off a magic trick they’d mastered to perfection.
Once again, I realized that I’d underestimated Jade’s powers again. Understanding their depth sent a chill down my spine—If she wanted to, Jade could orchestrate a chain of "accidents" and "coincidences" to wipe someone—me, for instance—off the face of the earth, leaving no trace behind. Some people, it seemed, were blessed not just by fate but by the universe itself.
Trying to steady my voice, I asked, "What’s the range of your power? And how much control do you have over it?"
She tilted her head slightly, as if considering the simplest way to explain something vast and intricate. "Myself as the center, as far as my eyes can see," she said, her tone nonchalant, as if discussing the weather. "Think of it as my domain. Within twenty meters or so, my influence is strongest. Beyond that, the farther away something is, the more variables start interfering, and the weaker the effect."
Her gaze drifted for a moment, silver eyes taking on that faraway look she got when thinking through something profound. "Outside my range, I think the balance of the world itself kicks in. The bigger the thing I’m trying to affect, the harder it gets."
I nodded slowly, processing her explanation. “So you’re basically a walking glitch in reality?”
“Pretty much.” Her lips curled into a sly smile. “But I’m a nice glitch, as long as you don’t give me a reason not to be.”
(;;; **), I swallowed, unsure whether to laugh or feel nervous. “Good to know.”
Then, with the same tone someone might use to describe a failed cooking experiment, Jade continued, "Once I tried to experiment on my planet—like causing all the dominos to fall in my favor, to trigger a chain reaction that would terraform it faster. But it backfired. Instead of what I expected, the planet seemed to… change. Half of the dead planet came alive in other ways, and scientists are still trying to understand the reason."
My jaw actually dropped. The casual way she mentioned attempting to speed up terraforming an entire planet—as if it were no more remarkable than changing her hair color— "That means your powers could affect the entire planet," I managed to say, my mind reeling with the implications.
Jade pouted, a fleeting, almost childish expression that reminded me of the girl who’d once nearly cried over lemon pie. But the illusion didn’t last. Her eyes brightened with the sharp focus of someone explaining a deeply intricate concept. "No, silly," she said, her voice light but deliberate.
"Think of it like a butterfly effect. Each wingbeat causes a tiny change, but only when those changes build enough momentum do they reach the point where they can affect their surroundings in a big way."
She leaned forward, her hands sketching invisible patterns in the air as she warmed to her explanation. "Take my home planet, for example. There are only a few thousand people living there—small population, fewer variables. Fewer factors to block or distort the changes I create. The planet itself was half dead. So, when I tried something as big as terraforming, there wasn’t much to resist me, and the effects spiraled out of control faster than I expected."
Her expression grew more serious as she went on, her gaze drifting to the table as if replaying the memory. "It was like the planet wanted to fight back… or maybe it was just desperate to survive in whatever form it could manage."
She paused, her eyes sharp with thought, then continued, "Now imagine I try the same thing here. Earth has billions of people—billions of variables. Every action I take here is like a butterfly in a dense forest. Its wings might flutter, but there are predators, trees, weather—countless forces ready to absorb or neutralize any ripple I create. The butterfly’s flaps might create tiny puffs of air, but they’ll barely move anything before being drowned out."
By "variables," did she mean meta-humans? Governments? Or they can be anything. Her explanation was almost dizzying in its complexity. The more she spoke, the clearer it became that her understanding of her own power was far beyond what I’d given her credit for. I was struggling to keep up, trying to piece together the implications of everything she was saying.
And then a darker thought struck me: was Jade sent here from her home planet with a purpose—to sow chaos on Earth? From what I’d observed, her nature did seem to lean toward unpredictable, almost chaotic tendencies. Her powers and influence, especially with her seeming ease at meddling with complex systems, could be a perfect match for such a role…
Still, I needed more information. Too many pieces were missing, too many questions left unanswered. If Jade’s presence on Earth was intentional, the evidence had to be there—hidden in her past or her behavior. I just needed time and patience to confirm my suspicions.
Next, I asked carefully, my voice quieter now, "what if it had gone even worse? On your planet, I mean. What if… you’d destroyed it instead of bringing part of it back?"
Her silver eyes flicked to mine, narrowing slightly. For a moment, I thought she might brush off the question, but then she sighed. "I thought about that," she admitted, her voice softer now, almost reluctant. "After it happened, I couldn’t sleep for weeks. I kept thinking, what if I’d done too much? What if I’d tilted the scales so far the planet just… collapsed? That’s why I stopped experimenting with anything that big. Too many unknowns."
"Also, you might not know," Jade continued, her voice shifting into that scholarly tone she used when she was explaining something important, "but every meta ability has an invisible counter in relation to others. I learned that through some... serious experiments."
For a moment, she hesitated. The confidence in her tone faltered, and a blush crept into her cheeks. She avoided my eyes as she added, almost sheepishly, "Like when I was fighting with you. Every time I tried to make sure my punches landed, your meta nature countered mine perfectly. It canceled all the probabilities of my attacks hitting you. I''ve never seen anything like it."
I felt my jaw clench. I was speechless. So I’d already been a test subject in her “experiments”? I scoffed inwardly, feeling a spark of irritation. Another match with her might be in order—and maybe I’d break a few bones to make my point.
Still, I had to admit she taught me something valuable. The idea that meta nature had invisible counters, a kind of natural opposition between powers, was something I’d never heard of before. And as Jade explained she had experienced it firsthand. The thought hit me like a revelation: our abilities didn’t just exist in isolation. They interacted on some deeper, unconscious level, almost like a natural law of physics.
Still, the irritation that had sparked faded quickly, replaced by a sense of curiosity. “So,” I said, leaning back slightly, “what you’re saying is… my meta nature completely nullified yours?”
She nodded, her expression growing more thoughtful. “Yes. Usually, I can influence the odds in my favor—make sure things fall into place how I want them to. But with you? It’s like the moment I tried to manipulate anything directly connected to you, it just… didn’t work. Like the universe itself decided to veto me.”
How odd! I never heard of something like that. How was my meta ability protecting me all along, neutralizing hers without my conscious input? How far did this counterbalance go? Did it mean something larger about our abilities—or about us?
But why had she been able to affect me in class, making me fall down? The question nagged at me as I worked. Hmm. Of course—she didn’t have to target me directly. She could manipulate the environment, tipping the odds just enough to make something happen. The realization was obvious in hindsight. Still, her inability to land direct attacks remained puzzling. My meta nature seemed to deal with luck in some way, but I had no control over it. Things I observed or predicted often extended beyond mere chance. My primary meta ability didn’t seem connected, either. But with meta powers, who could say where one ability ended and another began?
I shook off the spiral of theoretical questions and refocused on the task at hand.
I had tutorials playing on my phone, the voices of various DIY superhero costume enthusiasts explaining sewing techniques mixing with the soft sounds of our work. Jade, to my surprise, proved to be a capable assistant. She was hunched over paper patterns, her face scrunched in concentration, her brow furrowed in a way that made her look both serious and adorable.
I caught myself staring. Focus, I chided, quickly glancing back at my work before the distraction could take hold.
I held up the cut eye mask for inspection. Jade immediately scooted closer, our arms brushing against each other as she leaned in to examine our handiwork.
“Huh,” she said thoughtfully, her voice tinged with excitement, “It’s really coming together. I didn’t think we’d get this far today.”
“Yeah, it’s not bad,” I agreed, holding the mask up for her to inspect further. “Just need to create the mold, pour the materials, and pray it doesn’t crumble into a disaster.”
Jade smiled warmly. “It won’t. You’re good at this.”
“Team effort,” I said simply and genuinely.
Jade shook her head, “You’re the technical one; I’m just here to make it look good.”
I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “Don’t sell yourself short. Your sketches are the reason we’re not making something straight out of a discount costume store.”
Jade laughed, her nose scrunching slightly in embarrassment. “I guess I do have a knack for aesthetics.”
“You guess?” I arched an eyebrow. “You’ve been sketching like a pro.”
She leaned back, crossing her arms in mock indignation. “Okay, fine. I’ll take the compliment.”
“Good,” I replied with a smile, turning back to the workstation. “Because you deserve it.”
The prototype had taken longer than expected, but now we just needed to create a chemical mold and pour the materials to get a hard shell.
I glanced at Jade occasionally, watching as she bit her lip in concentration while cutting the fabric or tapped the end of her pencil against her chin.
“How’s it going over there?” I asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Almost done with the gloves,” she said, holding up the cut pattern for me to see. The only thing left was to sew them together.
“Wow,” I murmured, genuinely impressed as I took in the sleek, practical design. “You’ve got a real talent for this.”
Her cheeks flushed a soft pink at the compliment, and she gave a modest shrug. “It’s easier when I know it’s for someone who’ll actually use it. Makes it feel… meaningful, you know?”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding with a small smile. “I get that.”
Thereafter, I also threw myself into following the DIY superhero suit and mask tutorials I''d found online, measuring and mixing compounds we had purchased.
Time slipped away from us as we worked. The basement became our own little world, filled with the smell of setting chemicals and the quiet rustle of fabric. It wasn''t until I finally came up for air, stretching my neck after spending so long hunched over the mold. My phone lit up with a flood of notifications—messages and missed calls from Aunt Grace. My stomach dropped as I realized how late it had gotten.
“Wow,” I muttered inwardly, glancing at the time. “Didn’t realize it was already so late.”
The time display showed well past midnight, and my stomach dropped. I''d completely lost track of time, caught up in the work and... other distractions.
Meanwhile, Jade didn’t respond. I turned to find her slumped against the edge of the workstation, her head resting on her folded arms.
While I worked on the mold, she had been cutting new suit patterns. She’d fallen asleep at some point, her breathing slow and steady. Her hair had fallen messily across her face, a few loose strands brushing against her cheek.
I hesitated, then crouched down beside her. My fingers moved almost instinctively, gently tucking the strands behind her ear. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her expression peaceful in a way that made my chest tighten unexpectedly.
Shaking myself out of it, I sent a quick message to Aunt Grace, apologizing for the late hour. Then, with the mold needing time to harden, I settled into the quiet to wait. But somewhere between monitoring the chemical reaction and listening to the rhythm of Jade’s breathing, sleep found me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was staring straight into Jade’s.
She was so close I could see the shifting shades of gray in her irises, like moonlight playing on water. For a moment, I forgot to move.
“What?” I rasped, my voice rough with sleep. “Is there something on my face?”
However, a small, traitorous part of my brain noted how oddly pleasant it felt to have her be the first thing I saw. I shoved that thought into a dark corner, labeled never think about again.
Jade’s lips parted slightly, as if she hadn’t expected me to wake up so suddenly and speak. A flicker of hesitation passed through her expression before she recovered, lips pressing into a small pout that was almost too cute. Her damp hair clung to her face, framing her flushed cheeks, and the faint smell of shampoo lingered in the air.
“I was, um... counting how long it would take you to notice me,” she said, her tone light but slightly unsteady. She clearly had practiced her response beforehand.
Counting?” I asked, blinking groggily. The words didn’t quite register, and I struggled to make sense of what she was saying.
Jade nodded, her tone gaining a little confidence. “Yeah. You looked so peaceful, I thought I’d just wait and see how long you’d stay asleep.”
I raised an eyebrow, my sleep-addled brain catching up. “How long were you waiting?”
“Ten minutes.” She shrugged, trying to play it off casually. “You’re a really heavy sleeper, by the way.”
“Ten minutes?” I repeated. I’d really let my guard down around her, enough to sleep so deeply in her presence. That wasn’t like me. But why had she been staring at my face for ten whole minutes? Just like yesterday. Strange. Knowing Jade, she probably had some weird ideas swirling around in that head of hers.Stolen story; please report.
I sat up straight, curiosity flooding my mind, “So, you''ve been sitting here and staring at me for ten whole minutes?”
Immediately, Jade''s expression faltered. I guessed she had forgotten all her excuses she had prepared earlier. Her eyes darted to the side. Her already very pale skin, always tinged with a faint undertone of red, seemed to light up further. When she was embarrassed or happy, her emotions painted themselves vividly across her face, and now was no exception. Her cheeks growing visibly pinker. “I wasn’t just sitting there,” she mumbled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I was... I don’t know. Thinking.”
“About what?” My curiosity slipped into my voice and, and I immediately regretted it when her face turned an even deeper shade of red.
She groaned, snapping with a flustered glare and pointing a finger at me defensively. “Don’t make it weird, okay?”
I blinked, caught off guard by her sudden outburst. Me? I’m the one making it weird? That’s cheating! You’re the one caught staring at my face—twice now. How do you explain that, huh? The retort burned on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. Saying it out loud felt… risky. Too loaded.
Jade shifted her stance, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. The gesture only emphasized her restless energy. Her voice softened, a faint vulnerability threading through her tone as she added, “I could leave if it bothers you. You know, me being here when you wake up.”
“No!” The word escaped faster than I intended, too forceful, and I quickly cleared my throat to regain some semblance of composure. “I mean… It''s fine. It’s just… surprising. That’s all.”
Jade’s eyes flicked back to mine, and for a moment, there was something unspoken hanging in the air between us.
Before I could spiral too far, she stepped back and handed me a neatly folded set of clothes. “You should probably freshen up,” she said, her tone light but still embarrassed.
I stood up with a stretch and a deep breath, taking the clothes. The clothes she’d handed me were soft and fluffy—matching hers, with a quality that felt almost luxurious to the touch. A grey hoodie with embroidered cat prints and matching sweatpants. As I held them, a faint, familiar scent reached me, making me pause. Her scent. Had she given me her own clothes to wear? The thought lingered, unexpected and oddly intimate. But what else had I been expecting?
I opened my mouth to respond but couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound dumb. “Thanks,” I said simply.
She nodded, gesturing toward the staircase. “The spare bathroom is upstairs.”
I followed her quietly, while my mind drifted to the growing number of small, strange intimacies we were accumulating. Shared meals, borrowed clothes, quiet moments like this. Even the simple act of sleeping under the same roof. Each one seemed innocent enough on its own, but taken together, they felt... dangerous. For some unknown reason, these moments felt dangerous. Fear prickled faintly at my edges, like a quiet warning I couldn’t ignore.
The spare bedroom she led me to was as plant-filled as the rest of her house, morning light filtering through leaves to create patterns on the walls. It felt like stepping into a secret garden, one that happened to have a bed and bathroom attached.
“Everything you need should be in there,” Jade gestured toward the bathroom door. “Take your time.”
“Thanks,” I said again.
Then she was gone, leaving me alone with her clothes in my hands and the faint trace of her scent lingering in the air.
When I strode out after my bath, hair still damp, I saw Jade setting up the dining table. Curious, I stepped closer to see what she was up to. She’d prepared avocado toast and bread with juice, her focus entirely on arranging the plates. As I approached, she noticed me and her face lit up with happiness, a reaction so warm it caught me off guard.
Why were we acting like newlyweds? The thought struck me out of nowhere, leaving me momentarily stunned by my own ridiculousness. This wasn’t anything unusual—just two people having breakfast. My imagination was clearly running ahead of me.
"I made breakfast," Jade announced cheerfully.
"It looks good," I said, taking a seat and picking up my utensils. After the first bite, I couldn’t help but add, "It tastes good too."
Her face lit up even more, her satisfaction unmistakable. “Really? I watched, like, five videos last night on how to make simple breakfast dishes,” she admitted, her voice shy despite the obvious pride shining in her eyes. “I wasn’t sure if the seasoning was right.”
“You did great,” I said, meaning it more than I expected. There was something touching about her effort that made me feel… well, something. Something I wasn’t ready to unpack.
“Thanks,” she said softly, her voice tinged with pride and happiness.
We ate in companionable silence after that, though every so often, I’d catch her glancing at me when she thought I wasn’t looking. And maybe, just maybe, I was doing the same.
After breakfast, we returned to the basement, diving back into our work with renewed energy. The mask molds I''d finished last night had set perfectly, and Jade was trying them on, testing the fit. She pulled one over her head, adjusting it carefully over her eyes.
“It’s a little tight,” she said, her fingers tracing the edges where the material pressed against her skin.
“We need it snug so it doesn’t slip while running or fighting,” I explained, keeping my tone matter-of-fact. She nodded, her expression thoughtful as she adjusted the mask, testing its comfort and fit.
Moving on to the suit designs, we spread the fabric across the table, the rustling of the material filling the quiet room. We slowly moved onto measurement.
Jade stood nearby, shifting her weight between her feet, her arms crossed in a way that suggested both anticipation and nervousness. The task of designing and cutting suits had seemed exciting in theory, but now that we were face-to-face with the reality of taking detailed body measurements, the atmosphere between us shifted into something charged and unspoken.
“Alright,” I said, picking up the tape measure and flipping to my sketchbook for reference. “Let’s start with the basics. Stand still, arms out slightly.”
Cutting the fabric according to our measurements started out smoothly enough.
She nodded, standing against the wall as she obediently stretched her arms away from her sides, her expression carefully neutral. She was as tall as me, and I began with her shoulders. The measuring tape glided smoothly across the smooth curve of her collarbone, my fingers lightly grazing her skin as I adjusted its position. She smelled very good and sweet up close. Her skin was extremely smooth and cool to the touch, and I forced myself to focus on the numbers, swallowing hard against the unwanted distractions creeping into my thoughts. Professional. Stay professional.
Jade’s frame made the top portion straightforward—no need for complex support structures. She wasn’t exactly… blessed in that department, but her hips, thighs, and legs required more careful adjustments. In fact, the athletic, streamlined shape suited her perfectly, complementing the overall balance of her figure.
“Shoulders look good,” I said, jotting down the number in my notebook. But, they seemed too perfect in my mind at the moment like a work of art, “I’ll need to do the arm length next.”
Jade shifted slightly, dropping one arm for a second before realizing her mistake and shooting it back up like a startled bird. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“It’s fine.”
“Relax your hand,” I said gently, tapping her wrist. “It’s messing up the length.”
“Oh. Right.” Her voice was softer now, and she wiggled her fingers awkwardly before letting them hang loose. “Better?”
I extended the tape down the length of her arm, starting from the curve of her shoulder to her wrist. Her arms carried a deceptive strength, the muscle tone subtle but defined.
I gulped seriously, I mean, this girl was ripped. And it wasn''t just her arms. Her whole body was toned to perfection. I secretly peeked at her six-pack abs that looked like they were chiseled out of marble. It was impossible not to stare, to compare her physique to my own and feel a twinge of embarrassment. Sure, I wasn''t a slouch in the fitness department, but Jade? The genetically designer body was on a whole other level.
Moreover, she had changed out of the matching cat sweatshirts we’d both been wearing earlier and into a sports crop top and loose shorts for more precise measurements. It was practical, of course—necessary for the task at hand. Her bare shoulders and legs caught the soft light filtering through the window.
Honestly, being back in a teenage body was proving to be a special kind of torture. It was like my hormones had staged a coup, hijacking my emotions and physical responses at every turn. One moment I''d be lost in rational thought, focused on the task at hand. The next, a stray glance or accidental touch would send my pulse racing and my thoughts spiraling in decidedly less-than-professional directions.
It was maddening, feeling so out of sync with myself.
“Perfect.” I finished measuring her arms and stepped back, jotting down the numbers. “Now for the torso.”
Jade hesitated, “How, um, detailed does that need to be?”
“Not invasive,” I replied quickly, though I could feel my ears burning. “I just need to check the shoulder-to-waist ratio and the chest circumference.”
Her lips twitched, a nervous smile playing on her face. “Sounds invasive enough.”
“It’s not,” I said firmly, though my voice cracked slightly at the end. I crouched again, wrapping the tape lightly around her chest, just below her arms. My fingers brushed against her crop top as I worked, and I made a conscious effort to keep my gaze fixed on the numbers. Focus on the task, not the assets.
“Breathe normally,” I said, realizing how stiff she’d become.
“I am breathing normally,” she snapped, though the tightness in her voice suggested otherwise. Still, she took a deeper breath, and the tape shifted slightly in my hands.
“See? Not so bad,” I said, my tone light in an attempt to cut through the tension. “Now just hold still for one more second…”
As I adjusted the measuring tape again around her waist, I felt another of her shiver slightly beneath my fingers. Goosebumps had risen across her shoulders and stomach, as if she was reacting to the tension just as much as I was. I hesitated for a split second before continuing, chalking it up to the cool temperature in the room. But the more I worked, the more I noticed her fine hair standing on end.
She mumbled something under her breath—too soft to catch—but the redness of her face deepened as I finished the measurement and quickly stepped back. I scribbled the numbers in my notebook, my own heartbeat louder than it had any right to be.
I cleared my throat, attempting to dispel the tension. "The top’s looking good so far. I think the shoulders will hold without extra reinforcement.”
Jade glanced at me, her expression a mix of relief and flustered embarrassment. “Yeah, it’s… coming together,” she replied, her voice a little higher than usual.
“Okay,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Torso done. Now for the hips, and legs.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and I swore I saw a flicker of panic before she masked it with a casual shrug. “Right. Legs. Sure.”
Jade nodded, her hands fidgeting at her sides. The fabric of her shorts hung loosely around her skin, swaying slightly as she adjusted her stance. Kneeling again, I positioned the tape around her hips, trying to maintain a respectful distance while still being accurate.
Her figure changed here, her waist was narrow and well-defined, cinched in a way that naturally drew the eye; her long, shapely legs were her most striking feature—slender yet toned, with just the right amount of definition. Her thighs, though not overly muscular, were softly curved and carried a natural fullness, they complemented her narrow waist, which gave way to subtly defined. She wasn’t overly curvy, but her figure possessed a symmetry that was mesmerizing.
She crossed her arms, rubbing her skin lightly as if trying to smooth away the goosebumps. “Uh… maybe let’s skip the pants? They might not work with the overall design of the costume. Maybe shorts or tights”
I raised an eyebrow but decided not to push the topic. “Alright,” I said, jotting it down in my notes. “Shorts or tights it is.”
After the measurements were done, we both threw ourselves back into the work, avoiding eye contact like it might set off some kind of alarm.
But, after an hour of cutting, we hit a snag with the arm and top connection. No matter how we cut or stitched, the fabric refused to cooperate. The design just wasn’t coming together as planned, and frustration bubbled up in my chest.
“This is impossible,” I muttered, frustration bubbling up as I pulled at the stubborn material. “We’re going to have to start over at this rate.”
Jade sighed, stepping back to examine the mess we’d made. “Wait here,” she said abruptly, disappearing upstairs.
When she returned, she was holding one of her oversized jackets. “What if we sew the jacket over these parts… together like this?” she suggested, turning the jacket inside out to show me the seams. Her idea wasn’t perfect—it would leave some weak points in the suit—but for two first-time costume designers, it was a practical compromise.
I tilted my head, considering it. “It’s not perfect,” I admitted, “but it might work. At least for now.”
Her grin was infectious. “Hey, it’s better than nothing, right?”
After half a day of intense work, Jade stood before me in her completed suit, twirling with unbridled delight. Giggles bubbled from her mouth like champagne overflow, her long hair flowing behind her like a waterfall as she spun. The sight of her joy was almost as impressive as the suit itself. I found myself smiling despite my exhaustion. For all the chaos, all the challenges, seeing her so genuinely happy made it feel worth it.
“Well,” I said, forcing myself to focus, “looks like we’re halfway to becoming superheroes.”
The suit was a sleek blend of black, white and grey, with the top crafted from a high-tech fiber capable of changing its properties with varying electrical charges. This made it remarkably versatile, adapting to different types of attacks. It could absorb significant impacts and was practically impenetrable to sharp objects—a feature we’d tested (carefully) to ensure its reliability.
The white tank top fit snugly from her neck to her waist, seamlessly integrated with black cropped jacket with oversized sleeves that have a wide flare, giving the outfit a touch of stylish flair without compromising functionality.
Her forearms were equipped with sleek metal devices, hiding underneath the jacket—shock absorbers designed to diffuse the impact of both giving and receiving blows. These were simple but effective, an extra layer of protection that suited her wild fighting style. Around her waist wrapped a utility belt, securely packed with throw knives, flash bombs, and tiny vials of medical serum. Those vials had cost us more than the rest of the gear combined, but their ability to heal wounds in seconds made them invaluable. In a prolonged fight, they could mean the difference between survival and defeat.
Also, there was another utility holster strapped to her thigh, especially for the blaster gun.
Jade struck a dramatic pose in front of the mirror, turning from side to side as she examined herself. “Wow! I mean, just look at this,” she said, gesturing to her reflection with a wide grin. “It''s amazing. You''re the best.’”
I watched her turn, inspecting the way the suit fit her. “It’s functional,” I said, trying to keep my tone even.
“Yes!” She twirled, her flared sleeves catching the light as she moved, "I think it''s perfect."
I took a seat nearby, “You… always look cool,” I said without thinking.
“Of course,” Jade said, flipping her hair dramatically without even looking at me. “I was born to be awesome.”
I stared at her, speechless. In that moment, all her earlier shyness seemed to have evaporated, replaced by this bold, unfiltered confidence. Of all the things I’d expected her to say, that wasn’t it. Yet somehow, it was so unapologetically her.
There it was again—another side of her. What was it now? Conceited? Arrogant? My brain scrambled to label it, but the words didn’t quite fit.
She caught me staring and tilted her head slightly, “What?” she asked, her voice quieter, the confidence slipping just a little.
I blinked, “Northing.”
Below her waist, Jade had insisted on designing and wearing shorts: reinforced, athletic, high-waisted, cream-toned, and slightly loose. Despite my repeated warnings about the risks of leaving her legs exposed, she’d brushed me off with a confident grin, declaring that the look was better for her image. I hadn’t had the heart—or energy—to argue. To her credit, the athletic tailored shorts worked well with the pièce de résistance of the ensemble: her boots.
The knee-high boots, bulkier and reinforced than the rest of her outfit, looked almost like moon boots at first glance. Built into them was a jump-assist mechanism capable of launching her ten feet into the air, giving her mobility that would complement her in need of escape from danger. The black, white, and gray color scheme extended all the way down to her feet, making the entire outfit look cohesive rather than cobbled together.
We needed all these enhancements, as our meta abilities alone weren’t enough in combat against anyone who could run faster, jump better, and hit harder. The suit compensated for these, giving us options beyond our innate powers.
In the end, Jade got the aesthetic suit she wanted without sacrificing practicality. She’d made it clear early on that she wouldn’t settle for anything ugly, especially after spending so much money. I’d agreed without hesitation.
She spun in front of me, her reflection catching the light with each turn. “Okay, this is officially the coolest thing I’ve ever worn,” she said, her voice brimming with excitement. “Like, I feel unstoppable right now. Look at me!”
She looked like something between a superhero and a fashion model, which, knowing Jade, was probably exactly what she’d been aiming for. Her excitement was infectious, and for a moment, I forgot how tired I was after hours of perfecting the suit.
“You’ll give yourself a concussion if you keep spinning like that,” I muttered, a small smile tugging at my lips.
She stopped mid-twirl and shot me an annoyed look, “Buzzkill,” she whispered under her breath, though the sparkle in her eyes gave her away.
Finally, seeing her stop playing, I stood up to inspect the suit. But before I could reach her, she took two steps back, narrowing her eyes at me.
"Stop it," I said, my voice soft but firm, wondering what she was doing.
My hand instinctively reached out, gently resting on her shoulders to halt her movement. She froze for a split second, her muscles tensing, before I felt her relax.
“I was just testing the mobility,” she murmured, her voice so quiet it was almost swallowed by the air between us.
But I could feel her breath, shallow and unsteady, so close it brushed against my skin.
“Sure you are,” I replied, a muffled chuckle escaping me as I tried to steady my own racing thoughts.
My fingers lingered for a moment, brushing lightly against the seam where the jacket met the base layer. “The suit… suits you.”
Her lips quivered into a small yet pretty smile as she glanced back at her reflection. “Thanks,” she said softly, her tone more serious. “For making it possible. For… all of this.”
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. There was something so genuine in her voice, something that made my heart stop in a way I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.
I just wanted to escape, far away from her. But, why was my body not following my command.
Clearing my throat, I forced myself to focus. “So,” I said, desperate to steer the conversation into safer territory, “have you thought of a hero name?”
“Hmmm,” Jade scrunched her face in concentration, her brows furrowing slightly.
I blinked, surprised. This seemed like the kind of thing she’d have planned out ages ago—probably before she even had the suit design.
"How about Gambler?" she finally suggested, her smile bright and expectant.
The suggestion made me fall silent. Something about it didn''t quite fit—like trying to force a puzzle piece into the wrong space. Jade''s powers weren''t really about gambling; they were about controlling the odds, and probability itself. She didn''t take chances—she made them.
“Dealer,” I said, the word slipping out almost before I’d thought it through. “You’re the Dealer. I’m the Gambler.”
The distinction felt right. She dealt the cards, set up the game, controlled the odds, while I... Well, I played the hand I was given, relying on luck and instinct to see me through. It was a more accurate reflection of our dynamic than she''d probably intended.
Jade''s smile widened, her whole face lighting up with understanding. The name clicked for her too, fitting better than her original suggestion. There was something almost poetic about it—the Dealer and the Gambler, two sides of the same coin, probability and luck working in tandem.
Her lips curved into a slow grin. “Dealer and Gambler,” she said, a note of approval in her voice. “I like it.”
Before I could respond, she practically bounced on the spot, clearly forgetting about the boots'' capabilities. With a powerful spring, she instantly touched the ceiling—and as expected, misjudged the distance.
Her head hit the roof with a dull thunk, and she yelped, landing awkwardly as her hands flew to the top of her head.
Her eyes immediately welled up with tears, and the mix of surprise and pain on her face was so comically exaggerated that it startled a laugh out of me.
“Not funny,” she muttered.