It was ritualistic the way he read the same article every single day for seven years straight. Seong-Su had each sentence memorized. He could recite it with his eyes closed. The photo of the kid’s room taped up like a crime scene crept into his dreams.

Yutaka would’ve been twenty-one today.

Most of his memories while he was an active hero were blurred now, like his brain was trying to protect him, but he could picture the kid’s face so vividly. He’d looked too young, too small. Seong-Su had once overheard Yutaka asking for a fucking cape, arguing about not being allowed to wear one. Of course he was rude and annoying, he was thirteen, wasn’t even trained for the spotlight. He couldn’t understand how fragile a hero’s image was. How quickly fans turned against them. How fingers pointed and the comments and whispers started. Heroes weren’t Enhanced, they were barely human.

Seong-Su thought the kid would’ve learned on his own. Everyone else had. He had. When Seong-Su debuted at twelve he thought he’d accomplished something. New Vision had taken pictures of him at his mother’s memorial—because being a hero meant sacrifice, it meant being exploited even after death—right next to the very same costume she’d been shot in. Seong-Su had placed his cool palm in Sun-Young’s handprint, marveled at how they were nearly the same size, and smiled for the picture.

The public loved him. He was a pretty boy that wanted to be like his hero mom. They loved him so much that they didn’t want him to grow up. His manager made sure he was isolated. They couldn’t risk a scandal, he was told. It was for his own good. But Seong-Su wanted a friend, needed someone to cling to. Teivel was his first everything. First sidekick, first friend, first kiss. At nineteen he was too obvious with his heart beating against his sleeve loud enough for all of Initium City to hear. Fans speculated, dug too deep into the looks Seong-Su gave him. He thought they’d be happy, that their love was unconditional.

Love was always transactional. His fans—even the ones who he’d see during every fan call and event—turned against him. He wasn’t cute and pure anymore. Seong-Su had cried reading the comments. Teivel didn’t stay around much longer. He won the public back, apologized for betraying their trust, and swore to keep his heart locked up for good. Then Micah happened. His second sidekick, something he could cling to in private.

And then you. His third and final sidekick; his first love. Seong-Su couldn’t have any sort of weakness that’d be exploited, but you brought out the worst and best in him. He was sick over you then and that’d never changed. Even after he’d retired and isolated himself far away from the city, you’d remained a constant.

“But who owns it?” Seong-Su asked, setting the cup of hot chocolate in front of you. His movements felt mechanical, just running on muscle memory. “Storming the lab won’t do anything. Whoever is running Deus would build a new one somewhere we’d have to figure out again.”

Seven years ago he’d retired. Seven years ago he’d begged you to stay and take up the hero position New Vision’d offered you. Seven years ago he made up his mind to save Enhanced from sharing Yutaka’s fate.

‘Popstar, New Vision’s Up and Coming Hero, Found Dead’

Yutaka had been facing severe backlash for being “hard to work with” and “rude”. Seong-Su watched this all happen. Watched him storm out of the agency in tears only to be met with a crowd of people against him.

He could’ve said something. Offered the kid some sort of support, a kind word. He’d seen the way Yutaka idolized him. He should’ve ignored how sick it made him.

Yutaka’s older sibling found him in his childhood bedroom from self-inflicted wounds. The hero industry mourned him; New Vision capitalized off the loss. Seong-Su retired a month later after blaming the industry for his death.

“Did you find out any more about the clones?” He knew it was selfish to ask you to remain a hero for this, but you were the only person he could trust. Eyes still followed him wherever he went.