"It's aerodynamic, Kurumi! All the top-tier girls in fighting games wear outfits like this. It's practically a requirement for the job," Yuna insisted.

  I looked at the mirror and felt my face heat up to a dangerous voltage. The bodysuit was a masterpiece of matte-black and indigo, but it was cut so high on the thigh it felt more like a weaponized leotard than armor. There were sleek black elbow-gloves and vinyl thigh-high stockings, paired with a set of split-toe ninja boots with a two-inch heel. Armor plating covered major strike zones, but ... it was a fucking bodysuit.

  "Yuna, I can feel a breeze in places I didn't know had breezes," I whined, desperately tugging at the high-cut leg opening. "What if I move too fast? I'm going to end up banned from the Internet for life."

  "Oh, stop overthinking it. You just need a bit of adjustment. Besides, there's plenty of sites we can stream on that don't care about some extra skin," Yuna said.

  Before I could protest, she stepped into my personal space, dropping to her knees in the cramped fitting room. I froze as her fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, just an inch from my groin. She didn't just touch it, she smoothed the fabric flat, her palm pressing firmly against the heat of my leg to ensure the suit didn't bunch. I could feel the warmth of her breath against my bare skin and I whimpered.

  "There," she murmured, her golden eyes looking up at me from between my legs, a playful glint in them. "No bunching. Your costume is perfect."

  I felt a jolt of static shoot straight through my spine. My breath hitched and, for a second, the air in the small room felt like a lightning storm. She's just being thorough. She's my manager. It's totally normal for your best friend to flatten your bodysuit an inch away from your - oh my god, I'm going to faint.

  "Thanks," I squeaked, my voice two octaves too high. "Great. Let's go."

  ---

  An hour later, we were back in the alley where I'd had my fight with the Stray. The daylight showed the iridescent, blue-black plasma burns on the corrugated steel, but I was too busy being mortified by our new "camerawoman."

  "Tell her to get a wide shot, Yuna!," I hissed, looking at the spherical drone that was bobbing in the alley.

  "I'm trying! I'm still learning the controls," Yuna protested, though she was staring intently at her phone screen.

  I sighed and leaned over, stooping low to shift through a pile of discarded crates and trash where I thought the silver cylinder might have rolled during my fight. As I leaned down, I could feel the tight polymer of the bodysuit stretching to its absolute limit. Glancing behind me, the drone wasn't helping search through the trash.

  The drone dived in low and pivoted, the violet lens lingering with a predatory focus on my rear. Through my mask, I could faintly see the viewer count ticking upward into the low-hundreds and I ground my teeth.

  "Yuna," I growled, "Your drone is defective."

  "I'm still teaching Eye-Bee what's important to focus on," she said absently, tapping on her screen. "Get it? Eye-Bee - for Internet Bestie? Plus she's keeping an eye on my B." Before I could make another comment, the drone zipped between my legs, then slowly rose up in front of me as I straightened, glaring at the sleek device.

  "Find anything?," Yuna asked, her voice still sounding a bit distracted. Sighing, I gave up complaining about the drone. If I wanted Yuna to stay home and be safe, I needed to encourage her to use the drone - and presumably that came with some growing pains as she tried to teach it how to properly capture the scene.

  "Just some more wet cardboard," I grumbled, turning and pacing to another part of the alley, Eye-Bee following me at waist-height as I went. I pointed one set of plasma burns, glancing over my shoulder. "That was me?"

  "Sure was," Yuna said as her phone chirped. "And I've got no doubt you're going to do a lot more. But hang on, I'm picking up something super weird. It's like a ghost signal - heavily encrypted, almost military grade."

  "Hey! You two!"

  I jumped, spinning around and instictively slapping a hand over my hip to check the suit's alignment, trying to avoid flashing anyone. Two men in charcoal-gray tactical jumpsuits were marching toward us. They were tall, muscular, and a variety of equipment on their belts.

  "This is private property," the lead guard barked. "Are you the one responsible for the plasma damage on this siding?"

  "I was apprehending a villain!," I said, trying to sound like a hero despite the fact that I felt like I was standing in an alley in my underwear.

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  The guard pulled out a digital tablet, looking completely unimpressed. "Great. I'll need your HeroHub registration and your Hero Liability Insurance policy number. S-Korp's legal department needs to file for property damage and environmental cleanup."

  "Insurance?" I blinked at him. "I ... I don't have insurance. I'm D-Rank. I just got here!"

  The guard let out a weary sigh. "No insurance? Kid, do you have any idea what the cost is to replace plasma-scorched industrial steel? You're looking a ten-thousand credit fine, minimum. Maybe more if the structural integrity of the building is compromised."

  "Ten thousand?!" I squawked. My hands started to glow, tiny violet sparks snapping between my fingers as my stress levels spiked.

  "Easy, Sparky," the guard set as he pulled out a suppression baton. The device let out a low-frequency hum that made my skin itch. "Unless you want to add 'Assaulting Corporate Security' to your bill. Just hand over your ID and let me file the paperwork."

  "We're sorry! We're leaving!" Yuna suddenly grabbed my arm, her other hand frantically tapping her phone. "She's new! She doesn't know the bylaws! We're going!"

  She yanked me backward and, for once, I didn't argue. We backed out of the alley like a couple of kids who'd just broken a window, Eye-Bee trailing behind us and capturing my mortified, glowing expression as we made our tactical retreat - turning to run once we hit the main street.

  ---

  "I can't believe I'm going to be bankrupt before I even get my second paycheck," I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

  We were tucked into a corner booth of the Meow-Meow Maid Cafe. A waitress in cat ears had already brought me a mountain of Honey-Butter Fried Chicken and a steaming bowl of Tteokbokki, which I was inhaling with a speed that defied physics.

  "Forget about the fine for a second, look at this," Yuna whispered, sliding her new phone across the table. "I managed to snag a packet from their server before the guards saw me. It's definitely a covert network of some kind, appears to have links back to S-Korp. It's a 1024-bit encrypted file. I can't break it."

  "S-Korp again," I muttered absently as I took a sip of my drink. "Should we look into it? This feels weird."

  I couldn't quite put my finger on what was making me suspicious, but I didn't want to drop it - not yet.

  Yuna nodded, tapping at her phone again. "There's a few guys on the Voltana page who are willing to assist - donating time on their home rigs to help break the encryption. I'm not sure if they'll have any success... but maybe worth trying?"

  As I nodded my head, Yuna continued. "In the mean time, I think we need a mix of approaches. For starters, you should just continue doing some basic hero patrols. The pay isn't too great unless you apprehend a villain, but it'll help. And we can continue digging into S-Korp on the side. If we find anything useful, HeroHub is usually willing to compensate us for information."

  "And I'll need to get insurance," I added glumly.

  "And groceries," Yuna teased, leaning back as I practically licked my plate clean. "Being a hero is expensive, Kurumi. Luckily, the fans think you're worth it."

  "I just don't get why," I muttered, wiping a smudge of sauce from my lip. "I'm literally just a girl in a-"

  "Excuse me? Are you ... are you Miss Voltana?"

  I froze. A man - maybe in his forties, wearing a cheap business suit that fit poorly and a tie that had definitely seen better days - was standing next to our booth. He was holding his phone with trembling hands, his eyes wide behind thick glasses as they darted from my face to the violet circuit-lines on the back of my hand. He was the spitting image of the guys I used to see at the back of the hobby shop - the kind of guy I probably would have sat next to at a convention a month ago.

  I felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment wash over me, followed by a sharp prickle of anxiety. He knows. He's one of them.

  "I ... yes?" I managed, trying to sit up straighter, which only made the bodysuit dig into my crotch and emphasize my breasts more.

  "I-I'm GachaGod," he stammered, his eyes glued firmly to the floor near my boots, refusing to look me in the eye. "F-from the HeroHub chat? I ... I made the comment about the, uh, silver heels. From your first day."

  Confused, I stared at him for a long moment, my brain trying to recall the conversation - and then it hitched. Badly. GachaGod? The guy who had posted that he wanted me to step on him while at full charge?

  I looked at him - this trembling, middle-aged man who couldn't even look at my face - and then I looked at Yuna, who was biting her lip to keep from howling with laughter. Online, he was a bold, borderline-creepy authority on heels, feet, and stepping aesthetics. In person, he looked like he was about to apologize for existing.

  "Oh," I said, my voice softening. I couldn't be mad at him. I was him. Or I had been, in a past life. Last week. "I remember your comment. It was ... very specific."

  "I'm s-sorry!," he squeaked, his face turning a deep, blotchy purple. "I didn't mean to be ... I just ... you're very impressive! The way that you handled those punks at the noodle bar, and then the Stray! I just wanted to say ... keep going! You're doing great. Could I ... could I get a photo? Not with me in it, of course! Just ... just you? For the forum?"

  "Sure, GachaGod," I said. I stood up, striking a half-hearted pose. I didn't have the heart to be mean to him.

  He snapped the photo, his hands shaking so hard I was surprised it wasn't a blur. "T-thank you! Good luck with the insurance! I'll tell the guys in the chat you're even cooler in person!"

  He turned, nearly tripping over a chair, and scurried from the cafe as quickly as he could manage.

  I sat back down, feeling a strange, hollow ache in my chest. He's just like I was, I thought to myself, staring at the empty bowl of food. The same awkward behavior around women, the same fascinations. He thinks I'm something special, when I'm just ... me.

  Yuna reached across the table, squeezing my hand as if she could tell what I was thinking. Her touch was warm, grounding. "You were kind to him," she said softly. "That's good for building a fan community - and good in general."

  I let out a shaky breath, then stood. "Okay, let's go. But if anyone else mentions my heels, I'm charging them extra."