"So, you're the super new addition to the family."
Given everything that their new family had told them, the protagonist had been expecting it. Unfortunately, that didn't make it any less horrifying to hear the villain's voice behind them in the empty classroom.
The protagonist shoulders tensed.
Someone would probably come running if they screamed for help. But what were most people going to do against the villain except die? Besides, the protagonist...
They turned, stomach twisting into a thorny knot, still clutching a paintbrush in hand. "I'm not going to fight you."
The villain raised their eyebrows at that, seeming amused. "Oh?"
The protagonist swallowed. "So if that's why you're here, piss off. With all due respect."
"Piss off with all due respect?"
"I have an art project to finish. It's 20% of my final grade."
The protagonist half expected them to saunter close, fearless and menacing, but they stayed where they were - leaned against the closed door in a long black coat and gloves. Everything about them was dark. A shadow come to life. Their smoky gaze roamed the painting over the protagonist's shoulder.
The protagonist was halfway through painting a seascape. Calm. Nice. Possibly twee, they knew that. The sort of thing that felt like it couldn't feasibly be in the same room as a supervillain like them.
"Yeah," the villain said. "If your teacher has beige walls and a puritan sense of right and wrong, they'll love it."
The protagonist's jaw clenched, but they didn't say anything.
The villain's attention fixed on them again, considering. "How is hero life?"
"No, you're a cataclysm waiting to happen. But I was being polite."
The protagonist flinched.
"That's why they took you in, right?" the villain asked, head tilting. "So they can keep an eye on you? Manage your powers?"
"Uhuh." The villain's eyes gleamed. "Do you think they love you? Like a proper little family?"
"I'm not joining you either," the protagonist said, after a beat. "So, again, with all due respect-"
The villain smiled. "I'm not here to fight you. Or recruit you."
"Then why are you here?" The protagonist's voice quivered.
The villain shrugged, too light and careless for it to be true. "Curiosity. They said you wanted a normal life."
The protagonist could only imagine how that conversation had come up and gone down. They managed a small nod.
"You're not normal," the villain said.
The protagonist flinched again, despite themselves.
"Power like yours, destructive power, it wants to be used," the villain said. "Starts eating away at you if you don't channel it. Makes you ill."
The protagonist met the villain's eyes. Because, yeah, they'd noticed that.
"For what it's worth," the villain grimaced, like the very acknowledgement was disgusting. "I do think they're trying their best with you. I think they have good intentions. They always do. And better them, I suppose, then you being with someone who doesn't have any powers if things..." The villain twirled their fingers, and a smoky little mushroom cloud popped up from the tips.
"Yeah," the protagonist said, a little hoarse. That had been exactly their thinking.
"But it won't be enough. Their best won't be enough to contain you."
"This doesn't sound like curiosity."
The villain laughed, though it wasn't an entirely joyful sound. They straightened up off the door, finally taking that step closer.
"Curiosity in the sense that I'd like to meet the apocalypse. It's a one time experience. I'd kill you myself, but...you know. No guarantee that all that power inside you won't just go boom when you die. Better to adopt death incarnate, in this instance. Keep you safe. Love you enough that you don't want to end everything prematurely."
The protagonist felt bile, hot and acrid, rising in their throat.
"Piss off," they whispered. It definitely sounded more like please.
"You need to use your powers," the villain said, all laughter gone. "In small chunks. Micro doses. Otherwise you're going to be dead or blow us all up by the time you're thirty, and I would rather avoid that for as long as possible."
The villain reached into their pocket, pulling out an envelope and holding it out. "A list," they continued. "Of the help you should be asking them for. They won't listen if it comes from me. But love isn't going to be enough, if you're serious about this."
The protagonist's brow furrowed. They hesitated; their family had told them not to take anything the villain offered. They took the envelope.
It struck them, after all, that the villain knew what it was to be a little bit monstrous. The villain hadn't chosen normalcy. But they knew, better than anyone else, didn't they?
The tension left the protagonist's shoulders. They sagged.
"Enjoy your normal life," the villain said, softly. "I hope you get it. And I hope, I truly hope, the rest of us will yet be lucky enough to survive you."
They bought the protagonist's art piece at the end of year presentation. The protagonist didn't know what to do with that information.
