#sleepyanon

…

You press yourself into the deepest hollow you can manage, deep inside the tank's strange reef. It’s a reef that doesn't bloom with coral. Instead, it's angular, stone-dingey, and yellowed with algae. But you're too nervous to clean.

You huddle in the small cave until the muffled human voices fade. Why did they bring you here? What do they want? No matter how you tried to ask them and plead with them to let you go, they ignored you. You wrap your arms around yourself, curl up against the reef wall, and stare at the tag on your tail. The humans pierced it through one of your lower ventral fins. It hurts.

You grab it and turn it over, trying to be ginger with the way it tugs your fin, but you can't read the strange symbols. Staring at it makes you feel hopeless. Instead, you creep to the opening of the cave and peek out at the other mer circling the tank. They have tags like yours. Your gills fan with a sigh of relief. At least it's not just you.

König notices the movement from the corner of his eye—a flicker of motion near the reef. He doesn’t turn his head, but his posture shifts slightly, tail flicking in irritation. Pathetic. Hiding won’t save you. The humans don’t care about fear. If you're weak enough to show it, you deserve what you'll get.

His own tag—a crude metal clip punched through the thick muscle of his dorsal fin—itches, but he refuses to acknowledge it.

You avert your eyes until he passes overhead and away from you. Your spine prickles.

For the next two days, you don't venture more than a tail's length away from your safe spot. You stay low, you keep your mouth closed, and you avoid eye contact. You make sure the other mer can see you. You make sure you don't look like a threat.

On the third day, the humans toss chum into the water. Pink and visceral, it balloons across the surface and drifts straight down. The reaction of the other mer is immediate and brutal.

A snarl tears from König’s throat as the water clouds with blood and frenzy. His massive tail propels him upward in a single, violent thrust, shoulder-checking a shark mer. The shark, Nikto, snarls but doesn’t press the issue. Smart. König’s claws are already buried in the best cut of meat, tearing it free with a wet rip.

You watch the display with bright eyes from the reef below. The water churns with aggression. Tails lash; gills flare. Only fish bones and disembodied fin scraps make it past the frenzy. You spy one fin with a mouthful of meat still attached and creep closer, sliding along the tank floor on your belly.

A shadow passes over you. You flatten yourself to the ground and try to look as non-threatening as a piece of stray kelp.

König’s shadow looms over you, his massive frame blocking what little artificial light filters through the murky water. He doesn’t even glaring at you—just glides over you with a flick of his tail, in pursuit of a half-flank of whitefish several feet above your head. Even that small movement produces a current that knocks you back a few feet. His disdain is palpable.

The scrap of meat you’d been reaching for drifts just out of reach. Satisfied with his own chase, he doesn’t bother stealing it. Let the bottom-feeders fight over the dregs. He catches the disembodied whitefish flank and swims toward back up into the fray.

Once he’s gone, you twist and drag your fingertips along the bottom of the tank in a clumsy attempt to right yourself. The scrap of meat-and-fin spins along in König's wake. The current pulls it upward; it drifts atop the reef structure. You kick your tail and swim closer just to see it disappear into the crack of two huge stones.

…

König could heave those concrete slabs out of the way if he wanted to. But why would he?

He settles against a ledge near the top of the tank, arms crossed, tail lazily swaying to keep him suspended. His gaze flicks to the other mer. Nikto lurks near the surface. Horangi circles like a restless predator—then swims toward the reef.

You sense Horangi coming and still your movements, settling against the slabs a few feet away from where the meat disappeared.

Horangi’s striped tail cuts through the water. Then his clawed hand darts out—not toward you, but toward the crack in the slabs. He snakes his fingers into the gap. Despite his grit, he can't fit enough of his hand into the space to reach the food; after a long moment of maneuvering and shifting and shimmying his arm this way and that, he gives up and jerks away with a deep curse.

You keep your eyes trained carefully, demurely downward, but he hardly seems to care you're there.

Perfect.

Once he's gone, you move yourself over to your target and slip your deep into the crevice. It takes no time at all for you to find the morsel. When you retrieve it, however, you don't eat it. Instead, you swim quietly to the side of the tank, near the ledge where König sits. Without looking, you shuck the morsel of meat from its host fin, clean it in your specialized palms, and place both pieces on the ledge just out of König's reach: an offering.

Then you turn and swim dutifully back down to your reef cave. Your stomach growls.

König’s gaze snaps to the offering the moment you retreat. His fingers twitch. A beat passes. Then he drags his claws over it and picks it up. He doesn’t eat it immediately—just turns it over in his claws, inspecting it. It’s clean; it's prepared. Not hastily snatched and carelessly half-scavenged like the scraps the others fight over. He slips the meat underneath his hood and into his mouth. The fin he flicks aside—useless to him. But it would be a rather savory morsel to you. The gesture isn’t lost on him.

His eyes track your retreating form, lingering on the way you tuck yourself back into the rocks.

Maybe you’re not worthless.

...

[part 1] / part 2 / part 3

But watching Villain—yes, that Villain—roaring playfully to the delight of the assembled warriors-to-be, Hero found themselves pausing. They’d robbed a bank earlier this week. Last week, they’d strolled into City Hall—in bear form—and destroyed the mayor’s office and chased the judge up a tree…only to climb after them and swat at them tauntingly with their great paw. While they shouldn’t have, Hero had, admittedly, laughed at the sight when they saw it on the news. And if they were being entirely honest, they’d had to restrain themselves from laughing hysterically when they’d arrived on scene to thwart whatever devious plan Villain had been playing at. But this?

Hero shifted. They didn’t have to stop this, as Villain wasn’t doing anything illegal in this specific moment but…

They were a wanted criminal. A wanted criminal, with at least six warrants out for their arrest across the county.

In their hesitation, Hero watched as the battle waned and more kids began climbing atop Villain’s back. The leader helped a few of the smaller ones up, reaching down a hand to pull them up behind her, and before Hero knew it, Villain was racing across the playground to the tune of their delighted squeals and calls to go faster. A horde of children trailed behind them, running as fast as they could but not fast enough to close any distance between them and Villain’s grizzly bear form. And amidst the laughter, there were shouts that begged for a turn to ride the bear like a horse.

They should stop Villain, Hero knew that. They pressed their lips together. Maybe, Hero decided, maybe they could wait just a little longer. At least until each child had had a turn. After all, how many opportunities would they have to ride a bear into battle? Hero wished they’d had that opportunity as a kid. All they had was a plastic sword and a heart full of dreams.

Turning on their heel, Hero retreated back the way they’d come. They shook their lingering questions from their mind. Villain, it seemed, was many things—literally thanks to their abilities—but ruthless? Hero smirked. Apparently, their ruthlessness was only a façade, and hidden behind it was a heart that would spend the afternoon at the whim of the neighborhood kids while in bear form instead of eating them…Or the mayor’s paperwork.

Hero gasped, whirling around and swinging their fist as someone tapped their shoulder. A firm hand caught their wrist.

“A little jumpy today are you, Hero?”

“V-villain?” they gaped, blinking hard into the darkness. They couldn’t even make out their own hand, let alone the person they supposed stood in front of them. Their follow-up question came out like a mouse squeak. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m your informant, or did Operative not tell you?” Villain let go of their wrist.

Hero shook their head, knowing full well Villain could see them perfectly. Damn their night vision. They grumbled, “And you couldn’t’ve flicked the lights on at least?”

“Power’s out all over town,” Villain replied, the hint of amusement in their voice. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little storm?”

Hero shifted on their feet. “I’m not.”

They imagined Villain was giving them that look, the one that called them out on their bluff. The cocked eyebrow, the subtle head tilt, and that damning gleam in their eye. Sighing heavily, Hero crossed their arms. “It’s not entirely the storm. It’s the dark, okay? Now just tell me what you came to tell me so we can go.”

“You’re afraid of the dark?” There was the sound of feet scuffing the cement floor of the warehouse. It was the only warning Hero had before Villain was a little too close to them. For the first time since they’d entered the warehouse, Hero could make out the outline of their body. If they stared into the dark hard enough, they could just make out their basic features. Villain shook their head. “The city’s darling hero, afraid of the dark.” They chuckled lightly and Hero instantly flushed with anger. But Villain went on. “All this time, fighting you, trying to figure out your weaknesses, and all I had to do was flick the lights off during a warehouse fight? Damn, I defected about a week too soon.”

Lightning flashed again. Hero caught the briefest glance of Villain’s face in the light. The sneer they’d expected wasn’t there at all. Instead, the softest of smiles graced Villain’s face, their eyes sparkling with unshed laughter. But not at the Hero’s expense.

No, if the Hero had any sense at all, they’d say it was at the irony of something they hadn’t known.

“Why did you defect?” Hero whispered.

Leaning closer, Villain tapped their nose. “Let’s say someone inspired me.” Taking Hero’s hand, they gave them a tug and began leading the way out of the warehouse. “How about we talk about it somewhere with a little more light?”

Hero stumbled after them. “I thought you said that the power’s out all over town?”

Villain hummed. “It is, but I know a place with at least three lanterns and one incredibly comfortable blanket.”

“And why should I go with you? How do I know this isn’t a trap?”

“You don’t.” Hero caught Villain’s smirk in the next flash of lightning just as they’d pushed open the warehouse door and stepped out into the pounding rain.

Following after them, Hero’s stomach clenched tighter. But rather than jerk away from Villain, Hero found themselves drawing closer to Villain with each rumble of thunder that boomed overhead. No matter how much their mind told them that going with their nemesis was a horrible idea, that whisper of fear in their bones wouldn’t let them deny that being in the presence of someone else was rather nice.

Moving quickly through the still town, Villain led them down a few more streets until they came to an abandoned industrial complex not far from the warehouse. Hero had long suspected the complex to be Villain’s lair, but had never been able to prove it. Watching silently as Villain pulled a keycard from the inner pocket of their jacket, they found themselves cursing internally. Villain waved the card over a reader beside the door, and the light indicator turned green.

“You lied to me,” Hero seethed, their chest burning with anger.

Villain tutted. “You’re so quick to judge, dear Hero. My security is run on back up generators, along with a few essentials like the kitchen appliances. It’s called riding out a storm in comfort.”

Hero swallowed. They followed Villain inside the dim hallway, light only by an emergency light in the distance. “Right. Sorry.”

Letting their hand drop, Villain shed their jacket and hung it on a coat rack beside the door. Holding out a hand, Hero eyed them suspiciously before hesitantly handing them their drenched jacket.

“Shoes too. I hate moping,” Villain said, taking off their own.

Hero breathed deeply, kicking off their shoes and leaving them on the mat beside Villain’s. “This isn’t any better than the warehouse, you know.”

“That’s because we haven’t gotten to the lanterns or the areas powered by the generator yet,” Villain assured them, taking them by the hand once more. “Besides, did you really want to be alone, in the dark, with this storm raging?”

Hero bit the inside of their cheek. They wouldn’t dignify that with an answer. But that certainly didn’t stop Villain from carrying on their one-sided conversation. What was it with villains and monologues? What was it with villains and rhetorical questions?

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t want to be either,” they said. “If this was my fear I was dealing with, I wouldn’t want to be alone. But in all fairness, my fear isn’t exactly something I have to deal with too often.”

“And what’s that?” Hero asked, trying to keep track of where Villain was taking them.

“Vampires.”

Hero rolled their eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

“No really,” Villain said, stopping in the middle of the hallway and turning to them. “I don’t like vampires. They’re creepy and they’re nocturnal.”

“You’re nocturnal,” Hero pointed out, walking with Villain as they continued down the hallway.

“Well yeah, that’s why I’m afraid of them,” Villain explained. “I’m more likely to cross paths with them than you are. Have you ever met a vampire?”

Hero frowned. “Well…no, but—”

“There’s no ‘but’ about it,” Villain interrupted, turning into a room and reaching out. Hero blinked against the light that flooded the kitchen. “Unless you’ve met a vampire, you can’t understand how terrifying they can be. Nocturnal or no, the night still belongs to them.”

Hero’s eyes flicked to them. There wasn’t a trace of humor on Villain’s features. Villain wasn’t a jokester by nature, but they certainly had their sarcastic moments and did their fair share of teasing Hero while they were fighting. But now?

Now they were a sort of serious Hero had never seen from them before.

“Did…did you not want to be alone tonight because of the storm and the power outage?” they asked.

Villain took a step away, slowly pulling their hand from Hero’s. “Maybe…” Glancing away, they added, “I didn’t exactly plan this, I mean, I’m not mother nature. I can’t control the weather, but then being in the warehouse…I guess I got a little spooked too.”

Hero nodded. “You said you had a comfy blanket?”

Villain nodded, a small smile coming to their face. “T.V.’s hooked up to the generator. So long as there’s still an internet connection, we could binge something.”

“I hope you have popcorn.”

Villain scoffed. “Of course I do. What kind of villain do you take me for? A classless wannabe?”

“No,” Hero laughed, “I just didn’t think you’d keep popcorn in your lair.”

“Lair?” Villain opened a cabinet, glancing over their shoulder at them. “I’ll have you know, I live here too. Saves me a ton of money.”

Hero raised their brow. “Oh, I’m sure. Does saving a ton of money also happen to fall under ‘evading taxes’ too?”

“I plead the fifth,” Villain said, pulling a popcorn maker down from the cabinet along with a bag of kernels.

Hero leaned against the center island, watching Villain set up the popcorn maker. Folding their arms against their chest, they said, “Ignoring that little fact, what do you want to watch?”

Villain wrinkled their nose, measuring out the kernels. “Nothing scary, obviously. And I hate comedies.”

“I hate action flicks,” Hero added, “What about Hit Sci-Fi show?”

“Nah, I’ve seen it,” Villain shouted over the popping of the kernels. “What about Old Fantasy movie?”

Hero straightened, bouncing on their heels excitedly. “I love that movie!”

“Then Old Fantasy movie it is.” Villain melted the butter in the microwave and poured it generously over the freshly popped bowl of popcorn. “I have the whole collection on DVD, the extended edition with—”

“The deleted scenes?” Hero burst, grinning from ear to ear. “So we’re gonna watch them all, right?”

Villain chuckled, leading the way into the living room. “I’m free the next couple of days. You?”

“It could take a while for them to get the power back on…”

Watching each other from opposite ends of the couch, Hero and Villain seemed to consider each other as if it were the first time they’d ever met. Intensely studying Villain, Hero wondered if it were possible to be friends knowing what they’d done in the past, and who they’d been involved with.

Quietly, they asked, “You’re really defecting from Supervillain’s coalition?”

“Yeah,” Villain nodded. Their jaw twitched as their head bowed. “I never wanted to go this far. There’s too much collateral for me, too many innocents getting caught up in their quest to topple the corruption.”

“I see,” Hero said. “Then I guess we should talk about that…you know, after the movie?”

Villain’s head snapped up. Eyeing them curiously, they said, “You still want to watch it?”

Hero shrugged. “We did make popcorn. Besides,” they said, plopping down on the couch, “you promised me lanterns and a comfy blanket if I came with you.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Villain chuckled, setting down the bowl of popcorn beside Hero on the couch.

“You did.” Hero took a handful of popcorn and watched Villain grab a blanket from an overstuffed chair in the corner of the room by the window.

Hero flinched, nearly falling out of their chair. Turning around sharply, Hero stumbled over themselves trying to get out of the chair and face the window.

Tap, tap, tap.

Hero rolled their eyes. Villain’s tapping grew impatient. Taptaptap.

Strolling across the room, Hero opened the window and crossed their arms, not allowing the hovering criminal to enter their dorm.

“What do you want?” Hero grumbled, glaring at their nemesis.

“Come with me,” Villain said, offering them a hand.

“Why?” Hero hissed, “So you can abandon me in the middle of nowhere so I’ll miss the test tomorrow and not only fail, but also so I can’t foil whatever your newest scheme is?”

Villain pouted. “Do you honestly believe I’d do something like that?”

Hero arched their brow.

“Okay, maybe I’d do something to delay you, but not in relation to school!” Villain quickly explained. “I’d never do something that evil. This shit’s too expensive to be pulling pranks like that. If anything, I’d kidnap you after the test. But this isn’t a kidnapping…although I guess it could be?”

Hero clicked their tongue. Reaching to close the window, they said, “Well while you figure out which it is, I’ll be getting my work done. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

They barely got the window closed an inch or two before Villain was grasping the bottom of the frame and yanking it back up. Staring back at Hero, they held the window open.

“When was the last time you had a break?” Villain asked.

“Right now, actually,” Hero lied, “So if you could just leave me alone, that’d be great.”

Villain’s eyes shifted to the room over Hero’s shoulder. Furrowing their brow, they opened their mouth to say something, but Hero took a step closer to the window and shoved them hard.

Slamming the window shut, Hero quickly latched it. Villain began their furious tapping, shouting at Hero to open up again, but Hero simply smiled. Waving at them, Hero pulled down the curtain and turned away.

One day, they vowed, they’d figure out which of their classmates was behind their nemesis’ mask. One day, but not today, they sighed as they wearily eyed the heaps of paper on their desk once more.

*

The warm scent of aged paper and ink hugged Hero’s senses. Surveying the library, Hero hoped to find a desk somewhere hidden amongst the stacks—preferably alone so they wouldn’t have to deal with human interaction but mostly so they could concentrate on studying for their midterms.

Weaving a path through the shelves, Hero ran a gentle finger over the spines. They didn’t know why they did, only that they couldn’t help it. The smooth textures, the occasional softness of a leather spine. It was about the only thing they’d smiled about in weeks.

It wasn’t that good things hadn’t happened to them in that time…it was just that they hadn’t gotten to enjoy what good did happen to them. Between their classwork, their extracurriculars, and their heroism, they barely had time to sleep let alone study, eat regular meals, or indulge in themselves.

Hero shook their head. They could focus on themselves after midterms. Once winter break rolled around, they could take a day or two to regroup and be selfish. But then they’d have to start their term papers and finish those reports their supervisor was looking for.

They were threatening disciplinary action now. Hero swallowed at the all-too-fresh memory. If they lost this job…they’d lose their scholarship and if they lost their scholarship…

Hero didn’t dare let that thought breathe. If they did, they’d have to face the reality of breaking down in the middle of the very public library.

They hadn’t realized how many people went to this school. Sure, they’d passed some of the regulars that seemed to be permanent fixtures of the library, but nearly all the study alcoves were taken up by people Hero had never seen on this campus before.

Worrying their bottom lip, they climbed the stairs. They prayed they’d find a table for themselves, alone and secluded from the common areas of the library.

Passing another table with a pair of students, Hero wondered if they should just give up and go back to their dorm. Turning down another aisle, Hero’s eyes lit up.

Nearly sparkling in the flickering florescent lighting, an empty table waited for them. Hurrying toward it as if there were someone waiting to steal it from them, Hero grabbed the chair like a life preserver and pulled it out. Unloading their backpack onto the wooden surface, Hero sat down on the hard chair and prepared themselves for hours of studying.

Sliding their laptop from their bag, Hero’s attention was drawn to someone sliding into the chair across from them.

“Uh, hi,” the person whispered. “I’m sorry, there just aren’t any other tables, and believe me I looked. Do you mind—cause I’ll leave if you…”

Hero offered a sympathetic nod. “No, it’s fine. You’re [Name], right?”

“Ah, so you’ve noticed me,” they smiled shyly. They pulled their laptop from a beat-up messenger bag but made no move to switch it on. “Maybe we could study together? Get to know each other a little?”

“Like you need help studying,” Hero laughed. [Name] was the best student in their biology class. And every one knew it too. Professor practically put [Name] on a pedestal, often looking to them in exasperation when someone answered a question incorrectly. Their reputation for playing favorites was one of the many reasons why Professor was a widely hated faculty member on campus.

Now if only Hero had known that when they’d elected to take biology. If they had, they would’ve taken chemistry instead despite being awful at chemical equations.

Chuckling, [Name] said, “That may be true for biology, but I’m hopeless when it comes to history. Why are they all named Henry? Or Louis? How am I supposed to remember the Sun King versus the dude who created the concept of divorce for his own gain?”

“Well, for one,” Hero laughed, “they’re from two totally different countries, and secondly I doubt [History Professor] will make all the choices Henry. That’s more of Professor’s style, if they even gave multiple-choice questions.”

Thoughtfully, [Name] admitted, “That’s true, but I’m still hopeless. So how about a proposal, I’ll help you study for biology, and maybe you could help me with history? Think about, we’ll both benefit from teaching the other what we know because it’s still going over the material and on the studying front, we’d be learning from the better student.”

Hero narrowed their eyes at them. Why did that sound like something Villain would say? Scanning [Name’s] face for any sign that they might be able to recognize them as Villain was utterly hopeless. Hero couldn’t picture Villain without their mask and they couldn’t picture [Name] with a mask on.

“All right,” they begrudgingly agreed, “it’s a deal.”

[Name] grinned at them. “Great! Then where do you want to start? Biology?”

“Sure.” Hero nodded.

And so began hours of pounding biology notes into their head and trying to help [Name] keep the European nobility from blurring together in their mind.

Hero had to admit that it wasn’t all bad. [Name] had made them laugh more times than they could possibly count. To top it all off, Hero could finally remember the phases of evolution. It wasn’t until the chime went off over the library’s P.A. system to signal it’s closing that they realized how much time had passed.

“Well…it looks like the dining hall’s probably closed by now too,” [Name] said, packing up their stuff. “Do you wanna, maybe, get something to eat? With me?”

Hero froze, their joints stiffening. “Uh…I, um—”

“It’s okay,” [Name] nodded, humming. “I get it if you’re busy. I mean it wouldn’t be midterms week if you weren’t.”

The piles of paperwork sitting on their desk flashed before their mind. Uncertainty wove through their gut, drowned out by the frustration simmering in their chest. “Do you know what? I would love to. I haven’t taken a break in ages thanks to all my…my studying.”

Hero’s heart furiously beat against their chest. They prayed that [Name] hadn’t noticed their near slip-up, but from the smile that had overtaken their face, Hero didn’t think they had.

“Great! I know just the place,” they said, hauling their bag over their shoulder. “And, if it would make you feel better and like you’re doing something still, we could always go over more of our notes.”

“We could,” Hero said slyly, “or…you could tell me about your next scheme?”

[Name] whipped their head around to face them. Stricken, their mouth opened and closed before they seemed to regain their senses. “H-how? How did you know?”

“I didn’t,” Hero admitted, glancing down at their feet. “But you and I have never spoken and then you seemed to know how busy I’ve been and you’ve said some things in such a way that only Villain could say and—you just admitted it!”

Glaring at them accusingly now, Hero watched as Villain’s face split into that same easy grin that they’d flashed them earlier.

“So does that mean we’re not going to dinner anymore?”

“Oh no,” Hero said, “I’m starved. You’re taking me to dinner and we’re going to finish studying and then you’re going to tell me about your next scheme so I can get ahead of the paperwork.”

Villain laughed, hooking an arm around their neck and letting their hand dangle over their shoulder, leading them out of the library. “You stress too much, dear Hero. Don’t you know it’s the holidays? I’m taking a vacation until after the next term begins.”

Hero rolled their eyes. They grumbled, “I’m so glad to hear it. Gives me plenty of time to finish my paperwork from this term.”