"Got a light?"
I stare at Winona for a moment. "Why the hell are you smoking at your age?"
"Because I can. Rank 4 regeneration factor. And because it helps calm me down."
"We've barely been at school half a day, and you already need to calm down? Besides, can't you just light it yourself, Sunshine?"
"Wow. Original," Winona scoffs. "You see any sunshine around here?" she gestures out at the storm.
"Yes. It's how we're seeing," I reply.
She opens her mouth for half a second, then seems to think better about whatever she was about to say. Meanwhile, I'm poking a sad pair of chopsticks into a puddle of sad cake.
But that doesn't mean I'm not thinking.
Obviously, she means there isn't enough sunlight to use her powers... which means she's not a light generator, she's an accumulator-type, and she must have used her Talent a lot during the test...
"So can I get a light or what?" Winona asks.
"I'm not about to help you with your habit," I answer.
"Tsk. I should've guessed you'd be as 'holier than thou' as your old man."
"I'm nothing like him!" I shout.
She sticks the cigarette between her lips and just holds it there. "Whatever you say. But there's one thing you're wrong about."
"Oh?"
"I'm the one who's taking the top spot. So it's you who better not get in my way."
She walks past me to the rear entrance of the cafeteria, pocketing her cigarette before she enters.
Well, this just got a bit interesting.
Winona had initially struck me as a wait-and-see type, but it seemed something was pushing her if she had to resort to habits to keep herself sane. Or someone.
And here I thought finding a rival would be hard... I smile because when everybody wants to be your enemy, learning all their tricks is much easier.
*
After lunch was exactly the point at which the rain decided to stop. So I was treated to a bit of a view on my walk from Homeroom to my afternoon classes. Ladders of light and all that. My main goal in taking Chem II was to earn credits and support my entry into the advanced manufacturing courses. Barring that, I wouldn't say no to additional lunchtime.
The teacher's name was Bill Aneirin, and he clearly wasn't a "field hero" to judge from the syllabus. I sat through the introduction and an initial chemistry refresher/assessment.
Normally, I'm just fine leaving a note with my demands. But the effectiveness of a note is entirely dependent on three factors: Reputation, legibility, and using a magazine or newspaper from that day to cut the letters from.
As I didn't plan on establishing a reputation with Mr. Aneirin, I elected to take a more personal touch after class. Demands were always more fun to make in person anyway.
"How can I help you, Aislin?" he asked, unaware that his bowtie was askew.
Up close, he was really tall, with dusty brown-grey hair and a narrow face, a prominently beaked nose, and eyes with multiple different types of irises for seeing into many ranges. His face had slightly youthful but still somehow old lines to it. He wore a sky-blue lab coat and a bowtie that was micro-patterned to resemble an entire rainforest.
"I want to get into the advanced manufacturing class, and I need credit from your class to do so," I said, being upfront.
"That's excellent! You're the first first-year, first-semester student I've had, by the way. I'm sure you'll find your time here rather productive-"
"I would like those credits as soon as possible. Tomorrow, preferably."
He blinked at me in rapid succession. "There's homework-"
"I'm already two-thirds done, and will have the rest done tonight."
"But the labs-"
"I can perform the four required experiments simultaneously and in front of you after class, either today or tomorrow, if you prepare."
"I haven't even come up with-"
"The school keeps archives of old exams, surely. I will take it on paper and without any electronics if you wish."
After a very interesting back and forth, during which he snuck in a bunch of questions, we established enough of a rapport as fellow science lovers to come to an arrangement.
Namely, that I would, while still technically being enrolled in his class, receive the time to take care of other activities in the back or elsewhere with permission, provided I submit an experiment and report on behalf of the school for some sort of competitive chemistry league. He could not guarantee I could do everything tomorrow, but by the end of the week or this weekend, certainly, provided Principal Armitage was on board.
Guess I'll get to open that can of worms later this afternoon...
Our negotiations made my travel time a bit hurried, but then it was on to a class I unfortunately did not have the background for: Supersocietal Ethics. It felt weird being on this side of the hero spectrum, and from the sincere passion with which Mrs. Veronica Ingrid Lain spoke, she believed everyone should believe in Justice and- Oh hey, there's Fiona!
I saw my sister in the front row, her eyes glistening with utter conviction.
"Now, who wants to share what attracted them to this Hero School in the first place?"
Sensing it was more about introductions, given how the class was a blend of first and second-years, I prepared myself for a deluge of either ignorance or self-righteousness as I turned on my desk and started digging for the syllabus.
But the first voice I heard was Fiona's.
"Hello, my name is Fiona Carver, and I want to be a Hero and... Well, I want to be a hero because there are people out there who need help. Who just can't get along without hurting each other and... even if it's not obvious, they need us. To stop them at their worst, and show them how to bring out the best in themselves. And to correct whatever mistakes it was that led them down the wrong path. To be a light in the darkness that guides them back to us." She blushed awkwardly as she came to a stop.
"Beautifully spoken! And from Crusader's daughter, no less." Mrs. Lain clapped, even rubbing the corner of her eye with her thumb.
The rest of the class either gave mundane excuses or tried to top Fiona's speech. I did neither. "I'm Aislin Carver, and that's all you're getting out of me today."