if you guys are looking for something to read in the meantime, I highly recommend Shine (a shinee outsiders au) by kikisfuneralservice and Invulnerable (another invincible fic) by pearlsoda! I hope this chapter was worth the wait :)

Why I Hate Looking in the Mirror

•••

The drive back had a bizarre aura that I couldn't place. It made my heartbeat erratic just to be near it, and the conversation died as quickly as it picked up. The whole thing with Rick had affected everybody, and clearly William most of all.

I tried to be as comforting if a presence possible, but what can you say to remedy that? To not only go from learning superheroes lived right down the street, but also then firsthand experience the impact overnight... and be entirely powerless against it. Nothing could prepare someone for that.

As much as I loved being with my friends, I was thoroughly excited to go home. To take a long nap, to enjoy relaxing and doing a whole lot of nothing.

"Bye guys," I said, somewhat awkwardly, departing from the back seat. I felt like even that was too loud.

"Bye," Mark and William echoed, their voices different levels of reserved. Part of me wanted to linger, wanted to address the elephant in the room that wouldn't ever seem to leave, but a bigger part of me knew it wouldn't make much of a difference.

The elephant wasn't going to leave, I figured. Only shrink over time.

When I walked in the door, I was sourly greeted with an unfriendly face.

"How did you find me?" I asked, too shocked and too frustrated to say anything else.

Minta sat at my kitchen table, posture relaxed with a smug smile on her face. Her ears were just as pointy, her skin the same shade of orange. Seeing her made my stomach churn, and if I'd ate anything earlier, it wouldn't be a stretch to imagine it coming up and onto the floor. Now, though, she had a black eyepatch.

Minta shrugged. "You'd be surprised how easy it is to find people these days," she remarked, pushing herself lazily up and out of the chair. "Even universally - the galaxy is a lot smaller than you think it is."

Minta crept forward, advancing on me. I took a slight step back, peering outside to check if my friends were still there - of course, they weren't. They must've just left.

"Why are you here?" I asked now, only a few paces in front of the door. I was less afraid than I was aggravated. I was less apologetic than I was apathetic.

"No warm welcome?" Minta asked, her one eye gazing at me with fraudulent disappointment. Her outfit consisted of a full length catsuit, off white with pink decals.

"You're in my house," I stated, deflecting the question. Arms crossed over my chest, I felt underdressed in my street clothes.

"Right," Minta said with a sinister laugh. A strange crunching noise originated from her hands, her fingers growing into jet black claws. "Welcome home, Affinity."

Minta swung at me and I did all I could to maneuver out of the way. Her claws left scratch marks on the wooden door, getting just slightly stuck. In retaliation, I threw a punch to her jaw, jostling her.

"Who even are you," I complained, feeling myself begin to charge up. Even the littlest bit of pain from hitting the door was enough to get me started. "Why are you only targeting me?"

"You've got a lot to learn," Minta replied, swinging another blow at me. It fell short as I ducked, just gracing my shoulder.

Unfortunately for me, that's what she was hoping for. Minta's other orange hand came up to grab my forehead, feeling like she was sinking her claws into my skull. Immediately, a sense of vertigo filled me.

Stronger than last time, a vision came to mind. It wasn't any memory I could recall having, although the world around me was strangely familiar. My house looked the same, all but the photos I didn't recognize.

My mother was there, with more clarity than I'd seen her in years.

"I know this is hard," she said to me, a conversation I couldn't remember. "But we're moving, you and I. We're traveling far, and it will be scary, but you will be safe."

"But mom," my little voice complained, sitting on the couch as she knelt in front of me. "I don't want to go."

My mother's hand, oh so soft, cupped my face. I couldn't have been older than eight here, which was odd, because my mother left years later. I tried to savor every speck of her.

"You're afraid of what you don't yet know," my mother assured. "When you're comfortable, you stop looking for things that are better. Vakilia... I think you'll find Vakilia is better."

"What about dad?" I asked.

My mother sighed. "Your father will be missed."

I think after that, I started to cry.

The vision faded out, leaving me dizzy and disorienting. I'd felt a similar sense of vertigo before, back when Minta showed me all of those horrible visions, but this time it was for a different reason. My brain was trying to create a memory it didn't have.

I had so many questions, but none so far had been answered. The minute I came back to, I swung a punch straight at Minta's jaw. Her hand dislodged from my forehead immediately, more of a suction than an invasive injury. No blood trickled down my forehead.

"No quip?" Minta asked, her eyes glinting with a genuine surprise as she raised a hand to her chin.

I shrugged. "I'm not in a playful mood," I replied curtly, going for a sweep to her legs.

Minta was able to counter that, but just barely, backing up against one of my walls. If I'd have been wearing my watch, this fight never would've been in my house. In the back of my mind, I wondered how I'd explain anything ruined.

Minta and I fought with almost a rhythm, countering each other's attacks. There was an otherworldly precision Minta had, as if she was holding back - or worse, just truly my perfect match up.

"How did you find my house?" I asked as she stumbled, catching her by her shirt and lifting her against the wall. Fire blazed in my eyes.

Minta shrugged. "It's incredible what modern technology can do," she replied with an insincere smile.

I grit my teeth, sending a flurry of punches toward her. Blood gushed from her nose, wind knocked out of her. Minta clawed at me, trying to throw a punch, but most of them fell short.

It put me on heavy guard. Either I'd gotten much better, or this was some sort of a distraction.

One thing Minta could do, though, was play her little mind game. And play her mind game she did.

A hard hit to my kidney had me doubling over slightly, just enough off guard to leave myself open. Her hands latched onto my head again, both this time, hurting and heavy. It felt like a thousand pounds of pressure had fallen onto me.

The room shifted again, this time a memory I did recognize. It was my bedroom as a child - all my stuff was thrown to the floor. The lights were off, the bed was unkept. I could feel the pain I was in, ever so faintly.

I was sick. Feeling like I was dying sick.

My mother sat down at the edge of the bed, a gentle smile on her face. "Can I show you something?" she asked. In the doorway, my father stood, gazing over the two of us with uneasy appraisal.

I nodded weakly, the motion making me dizzy.

My mother glanced to my father before placing a gentle hand on my hot forehead. An unimaginable fever.

All at once, a coolness washed over me. The slightest blue light engulfed me, compelling me to close my eyes and bask in it. Soft warmth, that somehow cooled me down faster than any ice pack. I gasped, and I remembered this feeling. It felt like I was being flooded with love.

And all of the sudden, I no longer felt sick.

"How did you do that?" I asked, amazed.

My mother smiled. "Magic," she replied.

Four years later I had that magic, too.

When I came back into the normal room, Minta shoved me away and I stumbled backwards, clattering against the ground. I scrambled backward as I tried to get away, praying to find my feet.

Minta kicked at me, a move I barely dodged by rolling away. As I pushed myself to my hands and knees, trying to launch to my feet, Minta kicked again, leaving me to reach for the closest thing to push myself up on.

The rocking chair beside me provided a sufficient crutch, and within moments I was back on my feet. I swung again at Minta, who seemed to be losing steam. Much quicker than last time. Much easier than last time.

I danced around the items in my home, surprised how well Minta did the same. As we fought, knocking each other around, photographs and mirrors shook. I could hear everything jostling.

For a moment, I wondered what would have happened if my father came home before I did.

I swept Minta's legs out from under her, causing her to tumble. Her clawed hand reached out for me, latching onto the bottom of my shirt and tearing a sizable piece out. The force of it knocked me into a side table, causing me to stumble as well. The sharp side of it jammed right into my side, somehow being the most painful impact of the fight. The force of it made me feel like it was going to pierce through me.

It was a race against time to see who would get up and start swinging first, and the two of us met in the middle. We were head to head again, trading hits to one another. I could feel my power flushing through me, but it always felt like Minta was still matching me perfectly. Like I could never seem to get ahead.

I tried not to let this psych me out, despite the fact I never seemed to stop picking up on it. As best as I could, I cleared my mind. Thinking about anything else until I could think of nothing.

Minta kept swiping for my head, clearly having a target. I'd noticed her pattern and began to be able to block it, although I wasn't sure if I preferred the scratches of her claws over the mental exhaustion. In my street clothes, each hit was a reassurance I wouldn't be wearing this outfit again.

I was lucky to have the strength and power I did, although I could feel myself getting tired out. Minta knew me too well, as I'd seen from last time. At some point, we both knew I'd hit a threshold and when I did, I wouldn't be able to heal myself anymore.

If I knew myself better, I'm sure I would be able to work around that. But I didn't, not yet, not to do it on command.

Maybe I had more training to do than I thought.

Lucky for me, my strength still flowed - redirected right back into Minta. She was slowing down, too, wearing herself down in tandem with me.

I caught her by the arm at one point, spinning her around and lodging it out of socket. Minta cried out, anguished in pain, and I tried to break it further. I was not going to be the loser of this fight. Not in my own home.

In retaliation, she swung back with what she could, using her uninjured arm to swing at me, claws out, getting any spot she could.

"You really need to do something about those nails," I commented, almost mindlessly as she slashed me straight through my chest. Blood gushed out, the injury spreading faster than I could heal.

I punched at her again, taking the advantage I had. Drawing her backward, further into the room.

"You really need to look in the mirror," Minta said, somewhat weakly. She seemed to struggle to smile, still smug as ever.

Allowing me to continue punching her, she set protecting herself, instead opting to put all of her energy into launching towards me, toppling the both of us. The way we fell was awkward, but I hardly had time to worry about it, stumbling over the ottoman. My arms flailed as I tried to flip us in a split second so I wouldn't be landing on my back, but before I could even feel the impact, I was back in my mind again.

I didn't even register Minta's hand touching my forehead.

This memory was absolutely not mine, I could tell that much immediately. It was foggy and cloudy, and there were a couple certain shades of colors I was seeing that I couldn't ever explain or even begin to replicate. Not unfamiliar, but new. Colors between the lines.

The room was one I'd never seen. A rich red, designed gorgeously with golden hues and white accents. It was lovely.

Whoever's memory this was turned to look in a mirror. It was a full body mirror, large and ornate. I saw myself, my mother, staring back at me wearing her superhero suit.

She smiled, patting herself down. It was hazy, but I knew every feature of her.

And all of the sudden, she took a deep breath, and her features began to change. Her eyes, her ears, her nose... her skin.

I gasped for air, the room I was in finally coming to full clarity. I'd fallen haphazardly into the ottoman, a pain in my shoulder and head. It skidded behind me, apparently, the only thing under me was the floor.

Minta stood over me, just barely having gotten to her feet as I came to. Her appearance was menacing, but all of the sudden, much less threatening.

My head spun. "Why are you showing me this?" I asked, the answer heavy in my stomach. I scrambled for words as I scrambled to get up.

All of the sudden, Minta's appearance began to warp. I sat, transfixed. All I could do was watch. An uncanny smile spread across her lips, familiar but unknown. Her skin was a perfect shade match to mine, her smile one I'd seen millions of times before. Even her eyes were the same shade, though they filled with far less vibrance and much more pain.

"Don't you get it, (Y/N)?" Minta asked, although the voice that came out was mine. "I'm you."