Chapter 7

Tiff was silent the whole drive home. The doctor’s words rang in her ears. They weren’t particularly new and nothing she hadn’t heard before (having watched Ralph, indeed, Wreck It). But for some reason, they struck her like a punch to the gut.

In that small moment, inconsequential as it might have seemed, her entire worldview changed. Not a big change, she wasn’t going to embrace her new villain status and start conquering the world. But she realized something nobody had ever pointed out to her before: she often put things into a box.

Like, everything went into a box. Its own, pretty, distinct, organizable box. There was a time and a place for everything, and everything had to fit just right.

But not everything did conform to her labels, especially not people. How often, at school and at home, when seeing something on tv, did she judge something without thinking too deeply about it?

All those jocks and nerds? What did that actually mean? Nerd culture was a stereotype, yes, but not one that had actually existed for decades. Not in Tiff’s lifetime, with pop culture movies popularizing the actions of certain heroes and her parents’ generation’s nostalgia bleeding into everyday life.

Tiff wasn’t going to suddenly find herself caring for all the drama going around her on a daily basis, but the first, tiny threads of change were unraveling. She might actually care what a cheerleader’s name was if she had to talk to her.

Thankfully, Tiff didn’t need to talk to any overly preppy, obnoxiously energetic girls with enviable body shapes.

Thankfully, she didn’t even need to talk at all.

Victoria was content to let her sit in silence the entire ride back home, only offering her a word or two of support as they pulled into the driveway.

The smell of dinner cooking roused Tiff from her thoughts, and she suddenly realized she hadn’t eaten anything all day. She felt ravenous!

Wait.

Tiff slowly turned toward Victoria, who was kicking her shoes off in the entry hall.

“You still owe me ice cream,” Tiff accused, daring her big sister to go back on her word. Victoria merely laughed and ruffled Tiff’s hair.

“You got it, squirt.”

​

Dinner was awkward.

Plain and simple.

Melissa knew that Victoria had taken Tiff out for the day, but like Tiff, Victoria didn’t tell their mom her full plans. As such, she was brimming with excitement and anticipation, clearly wanting to insert herself into her daughters’ lives.

It was one thing for Amy to nearly burst with excitement (which she currently was), but she had the excuse of being a normal teenager with mood swings and hormones.

Their mom had bulk. It was like an enraged bull doped up on hormones had wandered into the world’s smallest china shop. She sat in her chair, visibly vibrating, emanating waves of…energy. For somebody with a C in Magic, that was pretty impressive.

Of course, they weren’t real waves, but the power leaking out of Melissa wasn’t entirely a figment of Tiff’s imagination. Their dad, Richard, recoiled as soon as he entered the dining room. He took one glance at Melissa and seriously debated whether he wanted to take his dinner somewhere else to eat.

“Sooo,” Melissa tried being tactful in all the same ways a great dane or a mastiff tries to fit in with a chihuahua. “How was your day?”

Tiff said nothing. She speared her pasta with her fork like it owed her money, but she didn’t want to talk about it. It occurred to her that the rest of the family was shooting worried glances at their mom, but she didn’t feel anything beyond the awkwardness lingering in the air. Oh, she knew Melissa was probably leaking out her presence or aura or whatever it was called. Tiff had felt it before, thankfully only once or twice, when her mom was very upset. It manifested in different ways for different people, depending on their mood or intent. It could be stifling, choking, making it hard to breathe if you were locked in their sights. It could be terrifying.

Tiff was unbothered.

She twirled the pasta, lifted it slowly to her mouth, and chewed.

She had to say something, didn’t she? Her mom was simply excited. In a very good mood. Tiff didn’t want to sour that mood and make it very bad. Tiff was only 16; she knew her mom could still ground her if she wanted.

“Long,” Tiff eventually settled for. She thought about saying uneventful or boring, or anything along those lines, but the words simply wouldn’t form in her brain. It wasn’t any of those, and then it hit her again: she couldn’t lie. But where did a half-truth and purposeful omission stand, as far as her Quirk allowed? Eventually, she’d have to find out.

“Long,” Melissa repeated, clearly trying to push for more. “And…?”

Tiff put a finger to her cheek as she nibbled some garlic bread. “Informative?”

“Long,” Melissa said again, like declaring truths of the universe, “AND informative! What a day!”

So far, she was still smiling, but Tiff knew she was pushing her luck.

“I was with Tori. Why don’t you ask her?”

“Hey now, Squirt,” Victoria instantly said, nearly choking on her drink. “Don’t you throw me under this bus. I wanna live to see tomorrow!”

Tiff shot her a withering glare…but just because she was a Supervillain didn’t mean it was effective. She’d have to work on that.

Tiff paused.

Was that something she needed to work on? Was this whole Class thing actually getting to her? She shook her head and faced Melissa.

“Tori showed me around her Guildhall,” Tiff eventually said, and she found the words flowing freely. “I never knew a building like that existed in Setma Heights. It looked dumpy from the outside, but they had an entire tree planted inside! Also, most of the members wore funny clothes and carried weapons.”

“Oh?! Why didn’t you take me?!” Amy demanded, slapping her hand on the table. “I’ve never been! I want to go!”

“Because you were in school, duh,” Victoria chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, I can take you later sometime.”

“You’d like it,” Tiff nodded. “You should have seen some of the weapons. It was like live-action Monster Hunter!”

Amy slammed her other hand down and actually rose from her seat. She had a manic look on her face, her eyes widening with excitement.

“Did they have any Ignition class greatswords?!”

Tiff actually laughed. That’s what the silly weapon with the jet engines was called!

“Yeah,” she grinned. “One dude did. You should have seen it. It was even bigger in real life!”

“That’s it,” Amy declared with a straight face full of determination. “I’m going.”

“Where?” Victoria laughed out. “The office is closed. You don’t even know where it is.”

“To play video games,” Amy shifted seamlessly as she tried walking away from the table…only to get snagged by the long arm of the law.

Also known as Mom.

“Not until after dinner,” Melissa said. “And after you’re finished with your homework.”

Amy gave their mom a wounded look, like the world was ending, but obediently melted back into her chair like a slug.

“So you visited Roughnecks?” Richard asked.

Perhaps it was because it was her dad asking, Tiff was caught off guard. It wasn’t like he never showed interest in the girls’ lives, but he was the calm, quiet foil to their boisterous mom.

“Yeah,” Tiff nodded. “Tori signed up to be my bodyguard.”

Tiff’s mind whirled. She hadn’t really meant to say that; it just came out. Outwardly, she coolly twirled some pasta, but inside, she was a mess. The table grew quiet as utensils were slowly lowered.

“Is that right?” Melissa asked. She turned toward Victoria, her tone and face even. It was an honest question Tiff didn’t know how to read. Victoria nervously shot Tiff a glance, but remained silent.

“Why would you need to do that?”

“I’d rather not say,” Tiff answered honestly. It felt weird, boldly denying her parents some information like this. She wasn’t lying; technically, she was even standing up for herself. But it felt wrong in the way that she knew her parents wouldn’t like it. Melissa looked shocked and more than a little hurt at Tiff’s refusal, but Tiff carried on before she could complain.

“It’s because of my Class, which is terrible and useless. We went down to the Adventurer’s Union and got me Assessed. It was long, they ran lots of tests, and my arms feel more limp than these noodles. Honestly, I’m surprised I haven’t passed out yet.”

“Are you still feeling tired?” Melissa asked. “Is it still Awakening lethargy? I thought you’d have recovered by now.”

“I have a D in Might,” Tiff sighed explosively. “I suppose this is my life now.”

The whole dinner table seemed to lurch to a standstill as they registered her words.

“Wait,” Amy paused. “Aren’t normal people C? Your class gave you a downgrade?”

It certainly was a stark difference from the rest of the family. Richard was average, but he did his best to stay in shape. Melissa was a Might-based Meta and passed some of those genes down to Victoria. It looked like Amy might inherit some of them, too.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Apparently,” Tiff huffed. “Like I said: it’s terrible and I hate it.”

“But what is it?” Amy nearly begged.

“I’m not saying,” Tiff denied firmly. “I told Tori and that’s enough. Nobody else needs to know if I never plan to use it.”

“That’s…rather drastic,” Richard said. “Your Class is a big part of your life.”

“But I can do other things,” Tiff crossed her arms and grumped. She stared at her half-eaten plate of spaghetti. She was full, even though she normally would have cleared the whole thing.

“Don’t worry,” Melissa cooed. “We’ll get through this. We always do.”

The sincerity in her mom’s voice sent a jolt of emotion down Tiff’s spine. As a very physical person, it probably pained Melissa to see her middle daughter veer so far from the family norm. So many things they could have experienced together…were now closed off. As if she were defective. But that wasn’t what her words conveyed at all.

Tiff looked up to her parents, feeling undeserving of such a loving family. Each of them wanted to support her, even when she wasn’t being upfront with them. Even Amy, who was normally a mischievous little gremlin, put her playfulness aside.

“Tiff,” Amy said seriously. She placed a hand on Tiff’s shoulder and looked her square in the eye. “If you’re now a [Garbage Man], we still love you.”

​

The indignation of being called a [Garbage Man] stung. What’s worse, Tiff pitied all those people who picked up trash for a living. There wasn’t anything wrong with being a [Garbage Man], but it sounded like, to her little sister, it was the lowest of the low.

Fortunately, Amy’s bizarre sense of camaraderie broke the tension in the air as their dad actually started choking on his food. Melissa swiftly jumped from the table and physically carried him off to the kitchen, patting him on the back like an oversized toddler the entire time, during which Tiff made her escape. She fled up to her room, shut herself in, and dove into her bed.

One question remained that Tiff couldn’t answer. One question that everyone asked.

What does your class do?

See, she could answer the what’s your class question perfectly well. It just so happened that her answer was somewhere along the lines of none of your business. But what it did? Even Tiff didn’t know.

And she really should find out, even if she didn’t plan on using it. Even if only to understand the insistent prompt the System kept showing her at inconvenient times.

There was something Tiff hadn’t told anybody, not even Victoria: she had a quest.

Tiff knew that quests weren’t always big deals like some people wanted to make them out to be. The System regularly handed out quests to anybody and everybody. It was how people advanced from Citizens into a specific Class. Tiff was pretty sure everybody knew this; she knew it before learning about it in IPSS.

However, hers did feel like kind of a big deal, and she didn’t want to bring it up in case it alarmed anybody…though the only other person who knew was Victoria, so her victims were limited. Though now that she was lying on her bed, stuffing her head under her pillows, she sort of wished more people knew, so she could share the burden. But getting there from here, having to deal with all the…drama of being outed as a Supervillain, sounded like a lot of work. Too much work, and Tiff was already tired.

As if summoned by her thoughts, there was a knock at her door.

“Munch, you dead?”

“Working on it,” Tiff grumbled into her pillow, but she resigned herself to getting up and opening the door. As expected, Victoria was standing there, looking tired and worried.

“How are you really feeling?” She asked. “Mind if I come in?”

“Sure,” Tiff replied, locking the door behind her. Victoria stared at the handle as Tiff flopped back on her bed, but eventually shrugged and took a seat next to her. A locked door wouldn’t keep anybody out for long, not in this house. Their dad could whip up some gizmo to get through most standard locks, and Amy was smart enough to know common indoor knobs like these only needed a thin rod inserted into the hole in the middle to pop them open. And to their mom, doors might as well be a suggestion.

But if that was what set Tiff’s mind at ease, Victoria wasn’t going to complain.

“You have an A in Might, don’t you?” Tiff asked. The question seemed like it came out of nowhere, but Victoria nodded.

“Yup,” she replied…as soon as she realized Tiff’s head was under a pillow and she couldn’t see her nod.