Minatozaki Sana was one of Seoul’s most notorious villains, if not the most notorious. Her name was an irony to the chaos that she created and her deceivingly innocent looks were a point of interest to many, if not all, citizens of Korea and some of the rest of the world. The Minatozaki family had been infamous even before Sana’s appearance to the public, a line of villains who knew what their job entailed and exactly how to do it. 

 

On the other hand, Dahyun’s family, the Kims, were the most well-known heroes throughout the decades, particularly because of the fact that her family’s heroes had been a majority of women, even during the time when men were the most prevalent in the world of heroes and villains. 

 

So, when the news had spread that the daughters of the Minatozaki and Kim family would be assigned to one another, the public had been thrown into a whirlwind of anticipation and excitement. Dahyun had hated it with every fiber of her being.

 

The people couldn’t care less about feelings, and despite her admittedly lackluster resistance, she had been into the public as the new generation of the Kim family—Ember—a hero with the power to summon fire at will, while her opponent was Shadowrider, a beautiful and elegant entity dressed in purple who could blend seamlessly into darkness and control shadows with nothing but a flick of her fingers and a blink of an eye. 

 

It had been three years since their debut, and they’d had multiple encounters over the years, each carefully recorded and released to the public, their names and pictures on posters and billboards throughout the city—Ember vs. Shadowrider. The true meeting of light and dark.

 

Though she hated to admit it, Sana had managed to captivate even her. There was something about her that was different from any other villain she had ever met, and Dahyun had assisted in many fights before. The majority of the other villains she had met had always given off the feeling of something inherently villainous about them. Sana, however, had never truly seemed that way. 

 

“Would you mind stepping back? I’m not here to start another televised fight, and I don’t think that you're here for that, either.”

 

Dahyun did as she’d been asked, and watched as the tree’s shadow contorted and sprang out of the ground in a mass of darkness. Sana gracefully jumped on top of it, the shadow gently shrinking back into the ground until the villain was standing back on top of solid ground again. 

 

In her arms was a mewling, orange kitten. 

 

“…That’s a cat.”

 

Sana smiled, clearly amused. “Yes, it is. Have you not seen a kitten before? I expect that you’ve heroically saved many of them throughout your career.”

 

“No, I—of course I have. It’s just—”

 

“—You thought that I would rather set fire to the tree than save this poor thing.” A teasing glint shone in her eyes. “I'm a villain, not a monster.”

 

“I never said that!”

 

Sana giggled, uncharacteristically soft and endearing as she the kitten’s head. She looked up at her and gestured for her to come closer. Without thinking, Dahyun inched forward until she was standing in front of the villain. She had always hated the fact that Sana was a good two inches taller than her, and when she looked up, the pleased glint in her eyes that greeted her told her that Sana was aware of the height difference, too. 

 

Abruptly, without warning, a soft mound of fur was placed into her arms and Sana danced backward a few steps with an approving nod.

 

“A picture-worthy moment, don’t you agree? It’s a shame no one’s here to see it.”

 

Dahyun tilted her head. “You are.”

 

“Am I?”

 

Sana dematerialized in front of her eyes, particles of purple floating into the shadow of the tree before she materialized once more, leaning against the trunk of it, her grin playful, a lot like that of the children that clung onto her wherever she went. 

 

“He belongs to the old lady in the blue house, the one that looks like a miniature version of the Disney castle,” she said, pointing in the general direction. “Return him for me, would you?”

 

Dahyun frowned, though she kept a gentle hold of the kitten that had been placed into her care. “You saved him. Why don’t you do it?”

 

“Because. I don’t feel like being responsible for an old lady’s heart attack today,” she said, looking up into the emerald leaves that seemed to glow above them. She looked back down at her and smiled. “And I can’t go around ruining my own reputation, now can I? Besides, it would be far more endearing if Seoul’s beloved heroine returned a lost kitten to its elderly owner.”

 

Dahyun couldn’t figure her out. Her words were playful, not even sarcastic. It was clearly light banter and a kind-hearted nature that made up the foundation of them, and even after so many years of experiencing Sana’s pleasantness first-hand, it still had the effect of catching her off guard. 

 

Of course, Sana wasn’t always like this. In their “battles” for the public eye, the villain was scathing, her every word like the cut of a blade and the look in her eyes one of pure menace. The public viewed her as a force to be reckoned with dressed in pretty, charming wrapping paper. 

 

Dahyun had fallen for the ruse at first, and it had taken an accidental meeting in a quiet corner of a bookstore months after their debut for Dahyun to realize that Sana wasn’t at all who she projected herself to be—not when the supposed evil villain was taking tiny sips from a mug of hot chocolate and reading a children's book about a family of shiba inus.

 

Dahyun shouldn’t have been as surprised as she had been at the time—it wasn’t as if she didn’t put on a facade for the public as well. Who the public saw was Ember, a powerful and charismatic justice warrior, someone who knew exactly what she was doing and thought through her every move. Kim Dahyun, on the other hand, was nothing but an awkward, often goofy mess, constantly teased and doted on by friends and family alike. 

 

Nevertheless, it was small encounters like these that made it increasingly more difficult to see Sana as nothing but an evil villain who only desired to create chaos and destruction wherever she went. Frankly, she had met heroes more villainous than her. 

 

It made her job that much more difficult.

 

As Sana began to walk away with a small wave of her hand, she took a step forward. “Why do you care?” she called out, a breeze threatening to carry her voice away.

 

The villain halted, then stilled, hands slipping into the pockets of her coat. It was cold for the beginning of spring. “About what? The cat?” She spun on her heel, eyes locking onto hers, a mysteriously knowing glint flashing within them. “Or you?”

 

A strong gust of wind blew dust into her eyes and she was forced to turn away, protecting the kitten with her coat against the unexpected torrent until it died away. When she opened her eyes and turned back to reply, Sana was gone.

 

Just like a passing shadow.

 

***

 

This time, the fight was intense. Dahyun was in bad shape, anyone with a working pair of eyes could see that. She was certain that at least three of her fingers were broken and that her ankle was sprained, nevermind the cut on her cheek that seemed to be obsessed with trickling blood down her neck, but she stayed standing. The adrenaline was keeping the pain at bay anyway and the wounds would heal by tonight at the latest.

 

It wasn’t anything new. They’d always exchanged a punch for a punch, mostly burns from Dahyun’s end, but never quite to an extent like this. 

 

She dodged as Sana materialized to her right, from the looming shadow of a corporate building, a knife coated in dark matter narrowly missing her arm, and shot a stream of fire towards her, only to have her disappear once again, seemingly unharmed. 

 

She shot a glance at the media surrounding them. Although she knew that Sana would never harm an innocent, it was still possible that they could be caught in the crossfire. 

 

“You never answered my question,” Sana whispered beside her. She whirled around, only to find empty space. “The cat? Or you?”

 

Dahyun gritted her teeth and hissed, “I don’t think that’s something we should be discussing right now.”

 

A small chuckle sounded somewhere to the right of her and Dahyun sent a stream of flames towards it in frustration. A pained yelp told her that she’d hit her target. She pushed away the odd pressure in her chest at the sound and sight of Sana crashing into a coffee shop’s table and chairs. 

 

She raised her voice. “It’s over now, Shadowrider. Leave while you still can.”

 

It was a warning, there was no doubt about it, but why did it sound so much like a plea? Dahyun resisted the urge to show decent human concern as Sana struggled to stand, swaying on her feet once she did, the dark clothing that had once protected the side of her waist singed off. 

 

When she raised her gaze to meet hers, where there should have been nothing but cold, unforgiving darkness, she saw the familiar light of playfulness and a wink almost too quick to catch, before she disappeared and there was nothing but the sound of a dozen camera shutters and people’s clamoring voices. 

 

Dahyun let out a shaky breath before making her way over to the teenage girl tied up against a nearby pole, posture ramrod straight and adopting a forced smile that she hoped resembled pride of some sort. All she could think about was the long night of interviews ahead.

 

***

 

The next time she met Sana was in a public bathroom that she had forgotten to lock. She was shirtless, wearing nothing on her torso but a black bra and white gauze that was clearly in the process of being clumsily wrapped around her side, a good portion of the burn, red and raw and blistering, still visible. Dahyun managed to snap out of it in time to slam the door behind her before anyone else walked by.

 

“Well, this is rather awkward,” Sana said, frozen for only a moment before shrugging. “If you’re here, you might as well assist me. It’s your fault, after all.”

 

“You forgot to lock the door? Who does that?”

 

Sana shot her a look, raising a brow. “I was a bit preoccupied with your little gift, here. It hurts just as bad as it looks.”

 

Dahyun gnawed at her bottom lip, feeling guilt pull at her gut as she eyed the wound. “Wait, did you put any ointment on it?” 

 

“…What ointment?”

 

If someone had told her even half an hour before that she would be tending to Sana’s wound in a public bathroom, she would have called them crazy. But here she was, carefully applying burn ointment to marred flesh, wincing every time Sana so much as hissed, and biting back concerned words towards her sworn enemy.

 

“Three years in this line of work and you don’t know how to take care of your own injury?”

 

“I was taking care of it. I don’t know what you mean.”

 

Dahyun eyed her, unimpressed. “You were wrapping a burn. Raw.”

 

“I don't see a problem with that.”

 

She stared at her a moment then shook her head and returned her attention to the problem at hand. As she worked, she couldn’t help but notice the various scars scattered across the expanse of the villain’s skin like stars in the night sky, some that she knew that she’d made, but others as foreign as another country. Some were clearly newer, stark against pale skin, while others were obviously older, nearly faded away—and there were many of them, almost too many to count.

 

Aside from the scars, she did her best to ignore the steel-cord muscles that rippled beneath the skin of her abdomen.

 

“It looks like there’s a lot of things you haven’t discovered yet. Is this your first time seeing scars, too?” Sana teased.

 

Dahyun paused, looking up into Sana’s auburn eyes. “No, but it is my first time seeing so many on one person.”

 

Sana was clearly taken aback, long eyelashes fluttered over the tops of her cheekbones for a moment, then she chuckled. “I do have quite a collection, I suppose. It’s pretty impressive, don’t you think?”

 

Behind the smile, there was a deep sadness that she couldn’t hide. Dahyun wanted to ask. She wanted to ask where she’d gotten them all from. She wanted to ask why she didn’t seem to know how to tend to her own wounds when it was obvious that she wasn’t unfamiliar with them. She wanted to ask why it looked like she’d given up. But she wouldn’t.

 

“It would be more impressive if you knew how to take care of your own injury.”

 

“Touche,” Sana said. “By the way, good shot.”

 

“Lucky shot. Don’t think that I don’t know when you let me win. You could’ve won easily.”

 

Sana put a hand to her chest, faking a gasp. “Not in front of the children.”

 

Dahyun couldn’t help but laugh at that. “A villain with a soft spot for cats and children. Now that’s terrifying.”

 

“Isn’t it, though?”

 

Dahyun began to wrap the bandage around her waist, Sana obediently lifting her arms so it would be easier. “You’re a villain, but you don’t seem like one. You never really hurt anyone.”

 

“I’m a villain by birth, not by choice, just as you're a hero by birth. Though I do find it a bit difficult to imagine you kicking puppies.”

 

Villain by birth, not by choice. Dahyun realized the truth in those words. Sana had been born into a family of notorious evil, and had therefore been brought up as one, bred to take on and continue the family legacy. She wouldn’t have had a choice. Just as Dahyun hadn’t had much of a choice.

 

Abruptly, Sana’s face was just inches from hers. “Did I blow your mind?” she whispered. Before Dahyun could react, she was leaning back again, giggling like a schoolgirl. “All I’m saying is that just because my occupation is to be a villain, I won’t walk around the city stealing candy from babies. That’s all. So you don’t have to worry about what I may be doing during my free time.”

 

Dahyun cleared . “I’ll—I’ll keep that in mind. You’re all done. Try not to move around too much. Please. Or it’ll take a lot longer to heal.”

 

Sana slipped on her shirt with grace, the black material fluttering around a frame too small for its size. She wondered if Sana ate enough—dangerous thoughts.

 

“Well, then. Thank you for the gracious assistance, stranger,” Sana said, tipping an imaginary hat. “I’m in your debt now.”

 

Dahyun shook her head. “I’m the one that gave you that burn. Let’s just call it even.”

 

“No deal,” Sana sang, already halfway out the door. 

 

And before she could respond, she was gone, left alone in cold, fluorescent lighting and dingy, tiled walls.

 

She wondered why she could hear her heartbeat.

 

***

 

When she was assigned a sidekick who went by the alias of Current and sported bright red hair like the fire that burned through her veins, she was nothing but terrified. 

 

Nayeon was headstrong and stubborn and sharp, and she knew immediately that the softness in her heart for Sana would be caught quicker than she could say Nayeon’s name. The sidekick didn’t disappoint.

 

“You like her, don’t you?”

 

It had been less than two days. Dahyun nearly spat her tea into Nayeon’s face and immediately regretted stopping herself once she spotted the smug way she looked at her. Dahyun had never been a good liar, anyway.

 

“She’s…interesting.”

 

Nayeon wasn’t impressed. “You mean pretty. Probably has a sweet personality to boot, am I right?”

 

“A better personality than yours.”

 

The sidekick didn’t so much as flinch, a lazy smile evident across her lips as she took another sip of her drink, some awful concoction of sugar on sugar that Dahyun wouldn’t touch within an inch of her life. It was a miracle that Nayeon wasn’t a villain. She definitely looked the part and sure as hell acted like it. Villain by birth, not by choice. She wondered if the girl sitting across from her had ever considered being one.

 

“Whether you like her or not, I’m not going to hold back. That’s not who I am.”

 

Dahyun felt her jaw involuntarily clench, though she nodded. “I wouldn’t expect you to. It’s my problem, not yours.”

 

She heard Nayeon sigh. “Look. I don’t mean that I’ll kill her or anything. I’m still a hero. Just know that if she fights back, I’ll give as good as I get.”

 

“I know. I don’t expect anything less.”

 

That didn’t make watching Nayeon send Sana flying through a solid concrete column with a bolt of electricity any easier. The villain wasn’t weak. Far from it. She wasn’t even sure if she’d ever seen her at her best yet. Dahyun focused on shooting flames towards any shadow around their vicinity to make sure that Sana couldn’t use them to her advantage, shooting balls of fire with her other hand whenever the villain came too close. 

 

She worried. And yet, when Sana flashed by her in a blur of darkness, all she could see was a manic glint in her eyes and the hint of a smile on red lips. She was enjoying this. It wasn’t as if Dahyun couldn’t relate. There was a certain thrill to it all, the fight and the chase, the pure adrenaline and the heart fluttering excitement that coursed through veins like liquid drugs—better than drugs. 

 

So no, she wasn’t privy to it, not in the least. 

 

“I see that the great Ember has found herself a companion. Current, is it?” Sana purred.

 

“That’s right. And you’re the infamous Shadowrider. It’s an honor.”

 

Sana materialized in front of them, far enough away to not trigger an automatic attack. Her eyes flickered between her and Nayeon, though Dahyun thought they rested a second too long on her. The smile still lingered on her lips.

 

“Not even a greeting, hero?”

 

Dahyun breathed in sharply, maintaining her composure to the best of her abilities. “I thought we’d passed the stage of greetings. It’s been three years, after all.”

 

Sana laughed. “I suppose you’re right. We aren’t strangers.” She tilted her head to the side. “Especially not as of late.”

 

Dahyun could feel her face flush. It was more out of embarrassment from Sana’s teasing than anything else, but there was something else behind it, too. The villain turned her attention to Nayeon, the shift in her gaze so stark and immediate that Dahyun couldn’t help but startle. 

 

The playful glint in her eyes was still there, but something darker seemed to rise up from pools of starless night sky. It was a side of her that Dahyun had never seen before. It was the side of her that she now realized was a carbon copy of every single villain she’d ever met. 

 

Nayeon looked delighted, her eyes sparkling with the same excitement that Dahyun only knew too well, gaze scanning Sana with something akin to bloodlust. Fire crackled around them, smoke threatening to choke them all of oxygen as it fed on it greedily. 

 

“Why are you holding back, Shadowrider? Afraid you’ll hurt somebody?” Nayeon said, her voice mocking.

 

Sana smirked. “Oh, yes. You, mainly. I wouldn’t want to accidentally disable a rookie on her first outing. That would ruin my classy reputation, don’t you think?”

 

“What, your merciful reputation as a villain? I think you could do more than disable.”

 

“And ruin all the good fun? I think not. I believe in a strong relationship between a hero and a villain. There’s more background, more story. The public likes nothing more than a good story,” Sana said, abruptly dematerializing. Her voice came suddenly from behind them. “We all know that. Some of us more than others. Don’t we, Im Nayeon?”

 

Dahyun felt the snap rather than saw it, and in a split second, Nayeon was lunging at Sana with hands that crackled with electricity, hands that reached to kill. Several things flew through her mind at once. This was Nayeon’s first public battle. If Nayeon inflicted a “cruel and unusual” injury after the media heard Sana’s taunt, the press would be all over her, and there would be a call for Nayeon to be punished or even to be kicked out of the entire organization altogether. 

 

If she allowed this to happen Nayeon would be punished and Sana would be hurt. No one would win.

 

It took her less than a second to figure out what to do. As soon as it clicked, she was boosting herself forward while at the same time sending a stream of fire at a car behind Sana, exploding it just as she managed to grab onto Nayeon and yank her back. She knew that the brief confusion of smoke and loud noises would be enough for her actions to go unnoticed.

 

“Your career is at stake. Stay calm, stay behind me, and don’t say anything,” Dahyun murmured into her ear.

 

Sana hadn’t moved from where she stood. Her expression was icy calm, the calm of a winter morning after the first snowfall. Dahyun wondered what she was thinking. She wondered if she feared the masses as much as she did. Then, her eyes shifted and met hers and it was like watching night turn to day. Sana’s eyes confused her. For someone who became one with the shadows, her eyes were bright—the color of autumn leaves in the sun. 

 

“You missed, Ember. Haven’t been practicing lately, have we?”

 

The villain’s voice was light and Dahyun caught the familiar lilt of amusement that lingered behind it. She thought it was something close to affection. 

 

“I’ve been busy lately. Your friends are troublemakers.”

 

Sana flashed a sharp smile, one that glinted in the mid-afternoon glare. “They’re just doing their jobs to make sure that you can do yours. That’s all.”

 

Before she could blink, Sana was in her personal space, and Dahyun’s face was pressed against her shoulder, the girl’s lips against her ear.

 

“Now, in the next ten seconds, I am going to push you, you will send a flaming projectile at me, and then I am going to flee.” 

 

Not a moment later, Dahyun felt a significant force blast her in the stomach and saw dark particles of matter scatter through the air before experiencing the sensation of all the air leaving her lungs. She skidded back a couple feet, stopping only when her back hit Nayeon, the woman steadying her without a word. She only took a moment to force air back into her body before lunging forward and sending a spiral of blue fire straight at Sana.

 

Dahyun didn’t miss the wink that Sana sent her before she dematerialized, just before the flames blasted through her. It didn’t take much effort for her to redirect the fire into the wall of concrete instead of incinerating the wall of people with cameras larger than their bodies. 

 

Just like that, it was over, and Dahyun wasn’t sure who the winner was anymore.

 

***

 

Nayeon didn’t yell at her. She knew she’d crossed the line and she knew what would have happened if Dahyun hadn’t stopped her. She never explained what Sana meant by a good story, either. Dahyun never dared to ask.

 

Dahyun knew their relationship was strained, which wasn’t exactly typical between a sidekick and a hero. Then again, they hadn’t exactly started on the right foot, and she was sure that if she tried hard enough, she could fix the problem. That was what was on her mind as she walked home from the convenience store, hoodie pulled tightly over her head, the night helping in shadowing her face.

 

She wasn’t quite in the mood to put on another saccharine smile and sign someone’s t-shirt tonight, but apparently, the night had other plans. Before she knew it, she was being dragged into a dark alleyway by an unyielding hand. The thrill of surprise never made it to fear. It was hard to be afraid when you knew that just your pinky finger alone could give someone a sixth-degree burn.

 

The man shoved her against the wall and pinned her in place, obviously not yet realizing the situation he’d just put himself in, and Dahyun let him. She felt the anger build inside of her, knowing full well what kind of danger she would be in had she not had powers. Before she handed him over to the authorities, she would make sure he learned his lesson.

 

Before she could blink, the man was sent flying down the alleyway, and Dahyun only needed to see a single glowing, purple particle to know what had happened.

 

“Did he hurt you?”

 

This tone—rough and angry and absolutely fitting for a villain—coming from Sana, was almost enough to twist the surprise into fear. The woman materialized in front of her, standing even closer to her than the man had been, and for the first time in the three years that she’d known her, Dahyun saw the darkness in Sana that she saw in the eyes of every other villain. 

 

She frowned. “What are you…”

 

Sana’s voice turned dangerous. “Did he hurt you.”

 

“No, of course not, I have—”

 

Before she could finish the sentence, the woman disappeared in a cloud of purple particles, and the next thing she knew, the man was screaming in pain. She turned fast enough to see the woman landing punch after punch with her bare hands—without her powers. 

 

“erted. Disgusting. Pathetic. Trash,” she snarled, punctuating every word with a blow.

 

It took Dahyun only a moment to send the police her location, before she ran towards Sana and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her backward. She could feel her every labored breath, the way that her body trembled against her own with barely contained fury.

 

“If you weren’t—If you didn’t have powers, he would have—”

 

“—I know,” Dahyun said, softly. She threw a glance at the man who was now curled into a whimpering ball on the ground. “I know. But we have to go, the police will be here soon.” She turned Sana around so that she could properly look at her. “Sana. He won’t hurt anyone again. I’ll make sure of it.”

 

The glaze of unbridled emotion cleared and Dahyun saw deep sadness, something that pooled in the depths like stagnant water, before everything around her exploded into purple particles. Instinctively, she closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she was breathing against the skin of Sana’s neck, the woman’s arms wrapped firmly, but ever so gently around her.

 

“When I first saw you, I wondered how people expected me to fight someone so small,” Sana murmured. “You were soft, even with the fire burning in your eyes.”

 

Before she could panic at the illegally close proximity and the words too intimate to be shared between rivals, Sana stepped back, the sadness that Dahyun had glimpsed gone without a trace, the usual teasing smile playing on the woman’s lips. It was only then that she took in her surroundings.

 

“…where are we?”

 

Sana hummed lightly, before hopping up onto the kitchen counter. “My secret underground lair? It’s where I bring my victims. You know, before I put them on display.”

 

Dahyun knew that the look on her face must have been priceless because Sana doubled over with high-pitched laughter, something that resembled the tinkling of bells, and nearly fell off of her seat. It took everything in her not to burst into flames out of pure embarrassment—literally.

 

“I’m joking. Don’t look so frightened. This is my apartment, just by that large shopping mall with IU’s face on it.”

 

Dahyun spotted a curtained floor-to-ceiling length window across the room, and she quickly walked over to peek through them, if only to hide the red she knew was burning in her cheeks. When she parted the curtains, she was greeted with the sight of IU’s pretty smile and the twinkling lights of the city below. They promised both everything and nothing at all.

 

“Korea’s most notorious villain lives in a high-rise apartment in the middle of the city,” Dahyun mused.

 

The sound of Sana hopping down from the counter sounded behind her. “I enjoy being able to look over the city,” she said, crossing the room and standing next to her. “At least here, no one flinches every time I breathe in their direction.”

 

Dahyun blinked in surprise, glancing at the taller woman who continued to look out the window with something she couldn’t quite read written in her face.

 

“Thank you for saving me,” she said, instead. 

 

“I hope you don’t think of us in the same category. Villains are one thing, but scum like him are something else altogether.” 

 

There it was again, that tone. It sounded like fire and brimstone and danger. A realization came to her, then. 

 

“You do this regularly—save people.”

 

Sana stiffened beside her as if she’d never expected her to reach that conclusion, but when Dahyun turned to look at her, she softened. The softness was one born from sadness. Dahyun didn’t like the way that she wore it. 

 

“People are so caught up in this glorified battle between heroes and villains, they miss the real monsters that stroll down their streets.” Only then did Sana turn away from the window, too. “Do you know how—how many men, women, children, I've had to save?” she said, her voice now nothing but a whisper. “The monsters come out at night, Dahyun. They’re not the ones posing in front of the cameras, they’re the ones lurking in the shadows of the spotlights that we create.”

 

Every word hit her like a bullet, and Dahyun felt nausea threatening to overwhelm her. This could be a trick, yes. Sana was a villain, but wasn’t that just a title? What had she ever done to be given that label? It had simply been something handed to her, just as a crown was handed to whoever was next in line for the throne.

 

In fact, what had she ever done to earn the title of a hero? Nothing. She’d done nothing. Staging fights and performing on interviews and signing autographs. It all meant nothing. She wasn’t saving people, not really. Somewhere in her subconscious, she knew that these so-called villains wouldn’t really hurt the people they took hostage or threatened to kill. They were all simply playing a part—nothing but the characters of an overblown media story.

 

I’m a villain by birth, not by choice.

 

They’re just doing their jobs to make sure that you can do yours.

 

Villains didn’t drink hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows. They didn’t read children’s books about a family of squirrels in the quiet corner of bookstores. Villains didn’t wrap their victims’ wrists with handkerchiefs so they wouldn’t get chaffed before tying them to poles as hostages. They didn’t save kittens stuck in trees, and they sure as hell didn’t save people.

 

“Oh, god,” Dahyun breathed, shooting out a hand to steady herself against the window. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

 

“I’m not blaming you,” Sana said, her voice achingly gentle. “This is all we’ve known since the moment we were born. But I just wanted you to know, I’m not a bad person. I can’t force anyone else to see me like that, I just—I just needed you to know.”

 

Sana looked broken, and Dahyun could almost see the cracks and fractures running through her picture-perfect image. Having to be feared and hated by the public, even when all you wanted was to do good for people…Dahyun couldn’t imagine the pain of that. 

 

“I know. I know you’re not a villain,” she said. She realized it was true. “I should have known the moment I saw you in that bookstore, reading a storybook about shiba inus.”

 

Dahyun watched in a kind of fascination the way that Sana’s cheeks abruptly colored, nervous particles of purple coming off of her like sparks. 

 

“When did you—”

 

The realization that she’d just admitted to watching Sana came to her, and she felt her own cheeks flare with heat. She stumbled over her words, her tongue refusing to cooperate. “It was a while ago. You looked like—like you were having fun, and…well, I didn’t want to bother you.”

 

She resisted the urge to burn herself right through the floor and attempted to turn away instead. She found that she couldn’t. Sana was abruptly too close, her hands resting on her shoulders, her eyes locking with her own. It felt a lot like falling.

 

“Join me.”

 

“…what?”

 

Nothing about Sana wavered. “We can save people together, the people who aren’t looked after in the middle of the night.” Something glimmered in her eyes, something that looked a lot like hope. “Join me, and we can save the world—together.”

 

Well, Dahyun couldn’t possibly say no to that.

 

***

 

It only took a grand total of two months for their newfound partnership to turn into something more. Nothing much changed except for the fact that Sana invaded her personal space at any given chance and that Dahyun could do nothing but endure the flirty touches and kisses on the cheek that she administered, often sneakily, appearing out of thin air in a shower of purple.

 

After a month into being hero and sidekick, Nayeon turned out to be much more mischievous and nowhere near intimidating. She pulled pranks as if it was her job and teased Dahyun almost religiously, and the day that she found out about her relationship with Sana, all hell broke loose. 

 

Dahyun avoided her three weeks after that with everything in her power, which included promising Sana one hundred kisses if she’d teleport them away, and when Sana wasn’t available, boosting herself into the sky with Nayeon yelling after her with a -eating grin plastered on her face. It wasn’t until Dahyun finally received leverage in the form of one Myoui Mina that it finally stopped.

 

As for saving the world, she lost precious sleep and almost passed out from the lack of it during the now one hundred percent staged fights against Sana, but they saved dozens of people every night, simply teleporting from one side of the country to the other whenever needed, and taking out the true villains behind the cameras.

 

She felt like a real hero for once, and despite sleepless nights, a sidekick from hell, and one impossible girlfriend, Dahyun wouldn’t change it for the world.