While Yekase chatted warmly with the girl, the masked man’s anger flared like a torch, and he charged with a cleaver like a boar.

Have folks gone blind from rage now, rushing powered armor like moths to a lamp?

Luckily the girl adapted fast, and she met his blade with a clang like thunder on steel.

The armor amped her strength like a spring flood, and she pressed him back like a falling wall.

“D-damn it…” His voice leaked air like a punctured tire.

As his stance broke, the girl kicked, jets flaring at her waist like a gust, and booted him flying like a rag doll.

K.O.!

“I did it! Doctor, I’m so badass—” Her joy sparkled like fireworks over a summer lake.

Yekase knew this hurdle wouldn’t budge; resignation fell like dusk, and she grabbed the girl’s hand and tugged her into a shadowed alley.

The girl’s voice still bubbled like a kettle. “Doctor, how do I remove this armor? Also my bag? My cake?”

“You don’t need to understand a transformation gadget that well,” she said, words flat as slate.

Yekase slid her hand into the chest plate like a mechanic into an engine bay, found the emergency kill-switch, and shut the armor down with a click like lightning cut.

“Name?” Her tone dropped like a stamp.

“Family name Ling. Given name, just Yi!” Her grin flashed like a banner.

“Ling Yi? You’re Ling Yi…” Yekase’s brow creased like folded paper.

“Seventeen. A junior at Heavenly Heart High School. Return exam score, 333, class rank three.” Her words rattled like abacus beads.

“Height 167 centimeters, weight 47 kilograms, shoes size 37.” The data marched like ants.

“Parents both alive, one sister in first year. I was buying a cake for my birthday tomorrow on the way back from cram class.” The details stacked like boxes.

“All right, all right, that’s enough.” Yekase raised her hands like a white flag, waited a few beats, then added, “Uh, happy birthday.” The words dropped like a coin in a well.

“Thanks, Doctor!” Her smile beamed like sunrise on glass.

Is a screw loose in that head? That must be why she tried that left-hand-for-right-hand hostage swap, Yekase thought, her doubt buzzing like a misaligned gear.

“I thought those facts would be narrated as next episode’s opening.” Ling Yi scratched her head like a puzzled pup.

Great. She’s serious, Yekase felt, a stone sinking in her stomach like a dead star.

“This is the real world, not Ultraman or Kamen Rider. No opening narrations,” she said, voice clear as cold air.

“No way…” Ling Yi wilted like a flower after rain.

If she had dog ears, they’d be drooping like wet leaves, Yekase thought, the image popping up like a stray bubble.

“Anyway, come with me,” she said, tugging the moment along like a kite string.

“Oh! Are we going to a secret base?” Her eyes lit like twin stars.

“No such thing. Just my place,” Yekase said, plain as brick.

“The Doctor’s house! A two-story villa with a garage?” Her daydream ballooned like a cloud.

“No such thing,” Yekase said, steady as a fence post.

“Then… a sports car, a tank, and a jet in the basement. When I find blue, green, pink, and yellow teammates, we’ll combine into a giant robot…” Her voice rose like a toy commercial blaring.

“No such thing,” Yekase repeated, dull as a gavel.

“Eeeeeh—” The sound sagged like a deflating balloon.

She’s an open book, Yekase thought, pages flapping like flags in a breeze.

How has she lived this long? Yekase wondered if her own worldview was the cracked mirror here.

“Hehe, yeah, greed’s bad. Getting to use this Flashblade System already made my dream come true!” Ling Yi’s eyes shone like lanterns. “Doctor, you seem my age—how are you this smart?”

“Simply put, I want to meet the ‘justice’ in my heart— miss, some secrets go to the grave,” Yekase said, lifting her gaze like a bird toward the far horizon.

In truth, “she” was twenty-seven, a retired doctor from a Sinister Organization, a secret sunk like a rock in a river.

She studied automation in college, then joined a shabby little Sinister Organization because hours were “flexible,” and rent nearby was cheap, like a bargain bin under flickering lights.

She was supposed to make gadgets, but short hands forced her to juggle PR, sales, and finance like a circus act, working black hours like soot on lungs.

At last she snapped, built a giant robot, and flattened dozens of acres of farmland outside Twin Towers City like a boot on wheat.

A few heroes happened by and swatted her down like a fly under a lazy palm.

If it ended there, Yekase’s life was a failure from every angle, like a cracked cup on a shelf.

Luckily, her “multiple fights with heroes, large-scale damage” caught Shadow Curtain International’s eye like a cold moon spotlight.

They praised the multi-joint transformation of her robot that died on its first run, and wired her restart funds like a black tide.

She used the money to shed her skin like a snake: sex change, full makeover from an underground doctor, forged papers, and retirement into shadow.

Now she lives selling underclocked gadgets on the black market, trinkets flickering like fireflies for rent.

Yekase looked back, and Ling Yi was giggling at her like a brook over stones.

Was that vagueness making her suspicious? Anxiety pricked like thorns, and she scrambled for something concrete like mortar.

“Meeting the ‘justice’ in your heart… so dreamy!” Ling Yi’s words floated like perfume. “A mysterious hero roaming the city, and her Doctor— a touch of romance is best.”

When did I become your Doctor, Yekase thought, collar tightening like a leash.

Yekase still hadn’t decided how to handle Ling Yi. She owed her life; giving her the Flashblade System was fine, like handing over a spare blade.

She could build another, tools humming like bees in her mind.

But she saw a future like fog and falling dominoes. Without her guidance, this fool would charge a Sinister Organization like a moth into flame.

The Flashblade data would spill like blood, and someone would notice her coding style, fingerprints on glass, matching that “mad Doctor who died in the crossover movie.”

It wasn’t the girl’s life she worried about, she told herself, voice icy while her chest steamed like a kettle.

They returned to Yekase’s rented place one by one, climbed the stairwell that smelled like dust, and opened the door to 206 like a creaking hinge.

“Excuse us!” Ling Yi called, bright as a bell into the dim.

“I live alone,” Yekase said, flat as stone in a riverbed.

“As expected of a Doctor. We’re the same age, and I can’t even cook,” Ling Yi said, shame rising like a blush.

“I have a name. It’s Yekase. You can—” The words hopped like pebbles.

“But a Doctor is a Doctor,” she said, stubborn as a mule on a path.

…Suit yourself, Yekase thought, a sigh falling like a curtain.

That title always pulled up faces of comrades like ghosts in fog, shoulders she’d once leaned on when storms hit.

Were they caught, reformed, or living straight now? The questions drifted like smoke through rafters.

Yekase stepped in, toed takeout boxes like dry leaves, and cleared a second patch of floor for Ling Yi to sit.

“Wow! It’s so dirty! As expected of a Doctor, you survive in harsh conditions!” Ling Yi’s eyes gleamed like a brave on tundra. “I should learn that rugged spirit…”

“I’ll pretend that wasn’t sarcasm,” Yekase said, voice cool as ice.

She was past sulking with an actual seventeen-year-old, pride folded like an umbrella in rain.

She checked the fridge, found a bottle of cola from who-knows-when, and the date was good, like a lucky ticket, so she grabbed it for Ling Yi.

She turned and saw the girl kneeling, her hands herding bulky trash toward an already swamped bin like building a wrapper dam.

“Feels like we can fill several bags. Doctor, where are the trash bags?” Her tone fluttered like a breeze.

“Bottom drawer, left-hand cabinet,” Yekase said, the words clinking like dropped nails.

So she likes cleaning, huh— Yekase meant to lean into that, a cat’s grin forming like a crescent.

But shame rose like a tide, and after years she rediscovered the need for clean, like sunlight finding a forgotten floor.

She bowed her head and picked up beer cans; aluminum chimed like wind bells.

These two, who had just used a hero transformation gadget to rout a convenience-store robber, didn’t map futures or dump exposition, flags unraised in a quiet wind.

Instead they cleaned a cramped, shabby rental, brooms rowing like oars through dust.

It was absurd from any angle, like a fight poster taped over a chore chart.

“About the Flashblade System I gave you—” Yekase ventured, a cat’s paw testing water.

“Dust’s flying. After we finish,” Ling Yi said, firm as a broom handle.

“Yes.” The reply was small as a seed and rolled like a bead.

…

Why though?! The protest popped like oil in a pan.

Yekase, a former Sinister Organization scientist, even if a spotty one, had walked streets that didn’t blink at blood, roads like knives.

Now a schoolgirl set the tone, and her pride folded like a cheap chair.

“That robber—” She floated the words like a trial balloon.

“After we clean, then we talk.” The cadence beat like steady drums.

Ling Yi handed her a cloth mask with tiny bears, soft as a cloud drifting.

“Yes,” Yekase said, acceptance light as ash on wind.

Decent presence… I’ll grant you that, she thought, respect bobbing like a nod.

She took the mask and, under Ling Yi’s gaze, put it on obediently like a patient under a nurse’s lamp.

“Good.” Ling Yi ruffled Yekase’s hair, her palm warm like sunlight on stone.

“But hey, even if you give off a ‘loves to drink and mope’ vibe, we’re still growing. Too much booze is bad,” she said, words falling like gentle rain.

“‘Loves to drink and mope’…?” The phrase blinked like a neon sign in drizzle.

She obviously noticed the sea of cans— of course, an aluminum tide like fish scales.

Yekase had expected righteous scolding, not a soft nudge, she thought, doubt curling like smoke from incense.

“Come to think of it, the Doctor is also seventeen, but she doesn’t feel seventeen at all… Okay, decided!” Ling Yi’s eyes snapped like shutters.

“Huh?” The breath hitched like a hiccup.

What are you planning? Yekase stepped back and crushed a box, the crack dry as bark.

Ling Yi grabbed her shoulders, excitement sparking like confetti. “First we update the Doctor’s look. Make her pass for a high-schooler. A dazzling transformation!”

“No transforming! No transforming!” Panic flapped like a trapped bird in a chimney.

“Once you clean yourself up, the messy room will itch at you,” she said, order blowing in like a fresh breeze. “I’ll help. Let’s fetch back the Doctor’s lost youth!”

“That was lost years ago!” The words fell like stones into water.

…Uh. That slipped out, shame blooming like a bruise under skin.

She was still weighing if that exposed anything, when Ling Yi hugged her tight, arms closing like a warm blanket.

“Doctor… have you been on your own since you were small? Is that why you’re so mature? It’s okay. From now on, I’ll be your friend…” Her promise glowed like a lantern in mist.

“Thanks… wait… are you assuming I have zero friends? …Eh, forget it.” Resignation settled like dusk over rooftops.

Yekase stopped thinking and simply felt the two warm mounds on her face, heat like twin suns.

When she’d had surgery, she’d asked for a flat runway for movement; maybe normal size had its own sweet spot, like dials balancing.

“Does the Doctor have friends?” Her curiosity chirped like a sparrow.

“No.” The honesty was clean as a knife’s edge.

Say what you want, she thought, armor sliding on like a shell.

Yekase’s heart had been killed by the 9-9-6 grind, embers gone cold like ash in rain.

Well, except for the warmth on her face, a tiny stove in winter.

“—Whoa! It’s past eight!” Ling Yi yelped, time slipping like a thief. “I need to go home and tell my parents I’m eating out with a friend…”

Her voice cut off, hesitation drifting over her face like a cloud over the moon.

“But Mom said we’re having sea cucumber tonight… what do I do…” The temptation gleamed like a lure.

That’s what you’re torn about? Exasperation unfurled like a fan’s sigh.

“Go home and eat. Don’t worry about me…” Yekase said, voice soft as felt.

“Right! Doctor, come to my place too!” The invite flared like a sparkler.

“How did you end up with that conclusion?!” Her protest crackled like sparks on dry wood.