Reo Hinode—codename: Oberon, the ‘king of fairies,’ something stupid like that—didn’t tie his long black hair in a ponytail. This might be the first time I’d seen him with his hair down, but I couldn’t be sure because his existence barely registered to me. Surprising how silkily straight his hair was; he’d fit right in a shampoo commercial. He let a curtain of black fall over the left of his thin face—maybe some fashion trend I wasn’t aware of—covering half of his Japanese features.

I couldn’t recall whether it was his father or mother who was Japanese. He must’ve shared his backstory at some point, a sad one probably, but it wasn’t worth a shelf in my memory. It wouldn’t be too far off to guess it had something to do with Adumbrae and his loved ones, maybe losing the latter to the former.

Nothing I haven’t heard before.

Wildly deviating from his typical grungy getup, Reo wore an aloha shirt, printed with pink flowers, and neon beach shorts. He had his collar popped and the first three buttons of his shirt opened, reminding me of Jeffrey. But unlike Jeffrey’s chiseled pecs, Reo displayed a pasty white flat chest.

Was he making fun of people wearing aloha shirts, like some contrarian fashion statement? Could be he was just dressed for the weather. He’d get baked if he wore his usual leather rockstar outfit.

“Good morning, Deen,” said Everett, giving her a hesitant wave. “Oh, and Erind too.”

“And Erind too, what?” Reo said with a snort.

“Good morning, too, Erind.” Everett nodded at me before returning his gaze to Deen like she was some eyeball magnet. Which she actually was.

Reo said, “Had a hard time spotting Erind, eh?”

“What are you on about? I said ‘good morning’ to both of them.”

“Sure, you did, pal.”

Everett Hamza, codename: Emcee—it stood for something I didn’t care about—had swapped his earlier attire for an equally fitting polo shirt, a light red one, almost matching Reo’s pink. Did they plan to coordinate outfit colors? Best of bros?

Everett awkwardly smiled at Deen. He stood straighter, chest out, and noticeably flexing his muscles.

It irked me a bit. Not that he didn’t notice me; I was going for that as a general concept for my face anyway. Deen could have all the attention.

But it wouldn’t do me good if she fell for him… or anyone for that matter. Was that icky situation possible? I used to tease Deen with this or that classmate in law school, but I had zero idea of her type of guy.

Would love triumph friendship? No clue how to weigh them because I had neither felt what they called ‘true love’ nor had a real friendship with anyone. Domino’s power generated for Deen an illusion of me. I took that as proof of loyalty. It might change if she fell in love with someone. I’d poke at Everett’s trauma later for trying to steal my pawn—erm, I mean my bestest friend. Just taking on the mantle of a protective bestie.Girls gotta stick together.

I mumbled a barely audible ‘good morning’ to Reo and Everett, maintaining my timid face.

Out of the entire group, only these two minor characters remained clueless I was the famously infamous Red Hood.

Well, unless Dario already told them, but I doubted it. No way Everett could stomach fake buddy-buddying with an Adumbrae.

Oh yeah, Imani also didn’t know about my secret. The La Esperanza and Vegas groups now merged into one for this mission so I shouldn’t forget about her. Imani was aware I was no longer human but assumed I had an artificial Core. I had told her to keep mum about it, explaining we were keeping it a secret from others as per orders of the Professor.

Didn’t really make sense if she paused to think about it. Like we were supposed to betray the Professor, so why bother following his ‘orders’? I should’ve thought of a better story. Then again, Imani’s head wasn’t in the right place after losing her friends, and then learning that the Professor, Dario, and Jubjub might be not-so-good guys after all. Easy to feed her anything.

Barring those three, the rest knew who I really was, with Dario and Jubilee pretending they didn’t.

But none, including Deen, knew who I really, really was.

“Hello, Reo. Hi, Everett.” Deen took a bite out of the egg tart she got from my plate, then waved it at them. She should’ve thrown it at Everett to stop him from staring. “Let’s eat. A long day ahead of us.” She had a polite smile that didn’t reach her neutral eyes. Routine friendly behavior.

Beyond that, what did she think of these two?

They were our comrades in arms in the fight against the 2Ms and the Adumbrae. Knowing Deen, that should hold some significance for her. Fellow heroes were a step above normal friends. We were part of the same life-and-death struggle and shared moments that’d bond people together.

Most people. Deen was big on the bonding part. Me, not so much.

If I wasn’t mistaken, Everett came to help Deen when she was attacked by the 2Ms’ grunts the same night they raided my condo. And Reo, along with Myra and Johann, came to save me from the docks when I was kidnapped. I didn’t really need any help back then, but Deen might count it as a point for Reo.

The time would come I’d have to get rid of Reo, Everett, and the other hero-wannabes. My future was very hazy, but it wasn’t with them. Good if they’d get killed in Red Island.

If not, I’d do it myself.

Would Deen be on board with it?

She had killed to protect me before, cold-blooded murdering people to keep my secret like she did with those frat boys. If Reo and Everett knew I was an Adumbrae, I bet they’d want nothing to do with me.

Actually, they’d want something to do with me—kill me. Nine out of ten times Deen would off them first before they could spell B-E-T-R-A-Y. Though one couldn’t be too sure with my best friend. She acts like a complete psycho sometimes.

“Wow, that’s some insane breakfast you got going on.” Reo pointed finger guns at our table.

“I just had some salad and fruit slices,” Deen hurriedly replied, nodding down at the small plate in front of her with specks of green on its white surface. Hilarious how she was concerned not to get mistaken as a glutton. “Can’t really give a food review of leafy greens and fruits—they tasted like how they’re supposed to taste.”

“You can say if they’re fresh or something,” I suggested.

“They’re not really fresh,” she said. “They have to be stored for the cruise, so that’s understandable. Salad dressing is passable. I didn’t get much because they can pack calories.”

Typical Deen. I smirked while munching a mini-pancake. Still worried about calories though we were in the den of enemies and might have the fight of our lives soon. Didn’t know whether I should laugh or be impressed at her dedication to her diet. Like, was it even working? An experiment on whether we burned calories differently given we were no longer human would be interesting.

“Either my eyes have gone funky,” Reo said, pointing at Deen’s half-eaten pastry, “or that’s the weirdest-looking salad I’ve seen.”

“This isn’t a salad,” she said with a chuckle. Again, her eyes didn’t reflect her smile.

The eyes were supposed to be the ‘window to the soul’ and other crappy sayings like that. Did looking into them actually reveal inner thoughts? Most likely not, else my true self would’ve been exposed a long time ago, my faces peeled off. Still, there was something about eyes that helped me read a person. Might be for just me.

Or I could be delusional.

“Yeah, you should get your eyes checked, Reo,” Everett chimed in. “When’s the last time you ate salad, huh?”

Reo tossed his head back, flinging his hair off his face. “Does rice count?”

“Rice isn’t a vegetable,” Everett said. “You should cut back on smoking and get some leafy greens in your system instead. Do you even remember what a lettuce looks like?” Laughing, he patted Reo’s back.

Trying to be the funny guy? I chomped on the cardboardy end of bacon that basked too long under a heat lamp to distract myself from rolling my eyes. It was obvious Everett was trying to one-up Reo, putting a performance for Deen. Guys striving to make the girl they like laugh was a tale as old as time.

Deen did smile. Though it was out of social obligation rather than finding Everett’s quip funny, I could tell. Good thing it was quite noisy in the restaurant or there’d be crickets doing that kroo-kroo thing.

Everett shouldn’t make jokes. The muscle guy of the group shouldn’t be the funny one—that was the law of stereotypical group roles. My basis: the many TV shows and movies I watched to study human behavior. Reo already took the comedian spot; Everett should stick with being the muscle guy. He got the body, even if he wasn’t the strongest in our group. I am.

“I know my leafy greens,” said Reo. “Tobacco’s green and leafy before it gets processed into cigarette.”

“Are you eating a tobacco salad or something?” said Everett, weakly laughing. No one joined him. Sensing his ‘jokes’ were running out of steam, he immediately switched topics, asking Deen, “Is the tart good? What kind is it?”

“An egg tart.” Deen took another bite. Still chewing, she added, “This is Erind’s. I’m helping her eat. She got a bit excited with the buffet and got too much food.”

“I thought we were supposed to share these?” I winked at her. “You persuaded me to come to the buffet early so we could eat lots before the others arrived.”

“Wha-! N-no, I didn’t,” Deen protested, almost choking on the tart. “You got all that because you’re nerv—” She blinked, pausing. She didn’t want to reveal what I confided to her. “You wanted to make the most out of what we paid for the trip, so you went overboard with the food.”

“Overboard?” I giggled. Unintentional boat pun.

“We did pay a lot for this damn cruise,” said Reo. “We’re not even here for a vacation! Erind’s got the right idea. I’ll help you girls eat.”

Deen and I were sitting in the middle chairs of a six-seater table, the food between us. Reo pulled the chair beside Deen. But before he could sit on it, Deen left hers. She rounded the table on the end opposite Reo, got to my side, and sat beside me. We were all surprised at how fast she moved. Reo had his mouth gaping as he slowly sat down.

Everett laughed. “That’s the correct reaction of girls to Reo!”

“I knew I shouldn’t have worn a pink shirt,” Reo said, snapping his fingers. “Hey, is it my new body spray? I need some feedback.”

Deen shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong with you, Reo. It’s just that—”

“There’s plenty wrong with him,” said Everett, still trying to wrest the clown spot from Reo. It was getting insufferable. People were either inherently funny or were not. Everett was the latter; he shouldn’t try to change his place in life.

“I moved spots so Everett can have a space,” Deen told Reo. “Move over here—” she gestured to the middle seat “—then we can all help Erind eat her food hoard.”

I embarrassedly grinned. “I-I didn’t know what came over me. One moment I was lining up at the food stations, and the next thing I knew, I got plates of food. Nerves, I guess.” I glanced at Deen. “Because of… you know.”

“No further explanation needed.” Reo held up a hand. “Nerves, alright. You and me both! And Everett too. He was crying for his mommy while sleeping last night.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” said Everett. “I couldn’t sleep because of your boombox snoring.”

“I was snoring?” Reo munched on gravy-covered fries. “I got a good night’s sleep? Imagine that. Yesterday, I was about to take one of the lifeboats and just nope out of here.”

“You wanted to… leave?” said Deen.

“You don’t?” he retorted with an edge to his voice.

“I…” Deen touched my leg under the table.

Instinctively, I wanted to kick her, but I managed to not react or I would’ve upended the table. Congrats me.

Deen touched me because she said the same thing earlier—she wanted to leave. Kind of weird for her to think that. She was supposed to be the hero, the main character. Why would she leave all the action about to happen? Abandon her friends and fellow hero wannabes?

For Reo, I get it. He had this aura of distancing himself from the group. He’d join meetings and missions, but he’d always put on an attitude that he was just forcing himself to be there.

Was it true, though? Likely not, else he wouldn’t have joined Dario’s stupid group and got an artificial Core embedded in his chest in the first place. Pretty big commitment. My guess was that clowning around was a defense mechanism of sorts. He jokes to keep light of the situation, masking his fears to keep himself going.

Could also be that Reo spouted half-truths—part of him really wanted to leave. His motivation, inspiration, whatever it was, in fighting the Adumbrae may be waning with each brush with death. Most people couldn’t keep up being heroes for long. If it was the other way around, heroes would be commonplace, nothing special at all. Shouldn’t be surprising that Reo would want to give up being one—it was just a rare thing for main characters in movies to do, so it didn’t immediately occur to me.

“I can understand if you want to stay, Deen,” said Reo. “Your future mumbo-jumbo shebang is a comforting security blanket. A way out will always be there for you. Wish I had a power like that.” Resentment was in his voice.

“Gabe is helpful,” said Deen. “But there can only be so many escape routes. Here on a ship, surrounded by the ocean, I don’t have much space to run to if there’s trouble.”

“You can still swim to run away.” Reo frowned, a limp fry sticking out of his mouth. “Eh? What did I say? Swim to run away?”

Deen chuckled. “Running on water?”

“That’s the wisdom of the king of fairies,” said Everett.

“Come, on, you know what I was trying to say,” Reo said. “Deen, you can swim to escape. You’re not as trapped as you make it out to be. And you’d know when to leave and run on water and shit. Don’t try to console me about my shitty powers.”

“I wasn’t doing that,” she replied, though she was doing exactly that. It was like beautiful people telling others that true beauty was on the inside. She had pulled that shtick on me a couple of times; I could relate to Reo’s irritation.

“From the ship to the shore is how many miles?” Reo wondered. “Ten? Twenty-five? I have no idea; I suck at distances. A long way, but you can make it by swimming with super strength.”

“Is it okay for us to be talking about your powers like this?” I asked. “We might get overheard.”

Speaking of powers, what were Reo’s again?

He could summon weird winged creatures out of his mouth—fairies he called them. When I was introduced to the hero-wannabe group and they demonstrated their abilities, Reo summoned a fat red fairy that could quickly chow down anything. Another of his fairies could turn invisible, good for sneaking around and stuff—Reo used it when we infiltrated Eve. He also had a healer fairy he mentioned in passing. Other than those three, he had one more which I knew nothing about. Shouldn’t be powerful, whatever that last fairy was.

Really side character abilities. One of Vanessa’s many mouth familiars could probably match the red fairy. And though Vanessa’s eyeball familiars didn’t have invisibility, they were numerous and could get around just fine. Furthermore, Reo couldn’t move while one of his fairies was out, practically trading himself for a summon. Compare that to Vanessa who could deploy dozens of mouth and eye familiars while being able to fight herself.

I wish Vanessa was here, I thought, nibbling yet another cardboard bacon. She’d be much more useful than Reo. Loyal to me too. Somewhat.

“Fuck the rules,” said Reo. “We’re on vacation. Not exactly, but you know what I mean.”

“This place is noisy enough, Erind,” said Everett. I thought he’d side with me about secrecy. He was often a stickler to it. They’d avoid talking about important things in public, and call each other by their codenames when on missions. Last I checked, we were on a mission.

When it came to powers granted by the artificial Core, Everett was stronger than Reo. He had heat powers—the burnt husk of Sanders Mall was very well acquainted with it. This bastard also burned me when we first met. I hadn’t forgotten about that. His powers were straightforward, nothing I couldn’t handle.

Okay, it might not be that straightforward. Everett burned food or calories or something to fuel his powers. He always ate a lot and mentioned that he might digest himself if he didn’t eat enough, whatever that meant. Sounds like a weakness more than anything else, though Dario had mentioned Everett could cause explosions if he was efficient with burning his ‘fuel’. I had literally eaten explosions, so I wasn’t worried.

“Yeah, no one’s going to overhear us,” said Reo.

“I guess so…” I said, taking a look around to see if someone nearby might be spying. There was no problem with being overheard because Big Marcy already knew we were on board. But I wanted to catch if someone was tailing us.

“I’m a couple of days from dying,” Reo shrugged. “Just let me do whatever I want.”

“Don’t say that!” snapped Deen with such strictness that Reo balked. “No one’s going to die on my watch!”