To Breakfast With An Old Friend

Naomi Katagawa, a name from another time, another life, one of the few you could ever consider a friend.

Once upon a time she was a plucky young hero by the name of Every-Woman, but those days have long since passed her, nowadays she’s much like yourself, a retired woman who can do little else except watch the city turn gangrenous, the infection burying itself deeper and deeper into it with each passing day.

She gives a small smile as you step into the quiet diner, motioning you over to her before you slide into the booth across from her.

She wore her age well, a few telltale wrinkles around her mouth and eyes, her hair more grey then not but it doesn’t detract from her beauty only accenting it. After all these years later she still has a super heroines physique, no small feat for a retired cape.

“I didn’t think you’d show” she says, as she slides the extra menu across the table to you, even though you both knew you’d both just order the same thing you did every time.

“Why wouldn’t I..? I always keep my word” you say absentmindedly as you recline back into your seat, the long faded red cushioning doing little to alleviate the pinching pain in the small of your back.

“It’s just that.. right.. never mind” Naomi says, quickly trying to stop herself from finishing the sentence but it’s too late. The damage is already done.

The grin falls from your face as you slouch a little in your seat, it’s not that you had forgotten, you can never forget, but… up until now you had been able to push it to the back of your mind, you had been able to turn your attention in any other direction then the hole inside, the one that never again will be filled.

“Yeah.. right.”

“You uh… you been getting out lately..? Meet anyone..?” Asks Naomi, hoping to change the subject for both her own sake and yours.

“I try… but every take I step out the door I just… I can’t stand to look at this city anymore…” what you said earlier was true, Detroit was never a NICE city, you had to lock your doors and stay inside at night but now that just isn’t enough to stay safe, anymore. The sanctity of your own home isn’t enough anymore, nowhere in this city is safe.

“It’s probably for the best… I would have left a while ago if it weren’t for you and the guys at the precinct” she says, taking a glance out the large windows of the diner behind you to look upon the streets of the city you once held so dear.

“There uh… there was an attack outside my apartment this morning… I could hear it through the walls…” she says, her eyes turning downwards as if to stare through the table.

“This city was never nice, Naomi” you say, trying to brush it off, it’s an easy thing to do when you don’t have to look at the victims.

“Yeah but… now..? Now it ain’t even about the money… I talked to one of the capes that showed up on the scene, an old friend of mine… the perp didn’t even take anything, just kicked down the door and pinned that poor woman to the wall with her own steak knives…” her voice shakes a small bit, not with sorrow or even fear but will anger, had she been in her prime, had she still had her powers she could have stopped the son of a bitch.

But she isn’t in her prime, and her powers were exhausted a long, long time ago. So she had to call the capes instead and listen as that woman got murdered only a few doors down.

You want to tell her that there’s nothing she could have done differently, but that would only hurt more and you want to assure her that the capes will get the suspect but you both know that’s just not true so instead you say nothing.

The bell above the front door of the diner chines with a cheerful ding before being entirely drown out by the nearly deafen BOOM that soon follows.

Swiveling around in your seat, your suspicions are confirmed, standing at the front counter a 3 men, features obscured by ski masks and each hold a shot-gun in hand, smoke slowly trickling out of the barrel of one of the weapons as buckshot decorates the ceiling directly above on of the masked men.

“Ladies an gentle men, this is a robbery, empty your purses, wallets and place any jewelry on the edge of the table and one of our servers will get to you shortly” says the man with the smoking gun, apparently the leader.

Your hands clench into fists adorned with white knuckles as you stare at the masked men, in the recesses of your mind the voice calls again.

“All these people are in danger, the man on the right is jittery, one wrong move and he’ll put a hole in someone, he needs to be stopped, they ALL need to be stopped”

For a moment an almost foreign sensation falls over you, you stop seeing the masked intruders as intruders, they’re not people anymore, only targets, each of them representatives for all the wrong in this city, all the wrong in the world, all of it distilled into these three men, these three parasites.

Your mind begins to calculate as a locked away part of your mind opens, just for a moment, you envision nearly a dozen ways to despatch these cowards, these animals.

It’s then you feel a hand on yours, squeezing so tight that you’re **** to return to reality, turning your head you see Naomi, holding your hand for dear life with a look of horror on her face as she slowly shakes her head. “Please… don’t do this…”

It’s then you realize you’ve scooted towards the edge of the booth, on leg hanging out into the diner proper, had Naomi not caught you, you would already be on your feet and charging at the poor bastards.

You weigh her words in your mind, you look back to the men who have begun working their way along the tables, stuffing pillow cases with their prizes while the leader shakes down the woman at the counter, emptying the register of the days earnings.

It takes all that you have to scoot back into the booth, eyes shut as you attempt to smother the voice which begs, pleads, taunts and insults you, anything to set it free at long last.

One of the men makes their way over to you, standing at the edge of the table expectantly, quickly taking Naomi’s hard earned money and stuffing it into the now heavy sack.

“Is it just me or is this a little light?” Asks the man expectantly as he stares at you pointedly the other man working tables soon joining him to loom over you, attempting to use their stature to bully you.

“This diner is two minutes away from the down town precinct…” you state, your voice cold and flat, you won’t fall into that dark abyss of **** but you’ll not be pushed around and victimized either.

“What…? You deaf lady? Empty your bag, now!” He shouts, seemingly convinced that raising his voice an octave or two will scare you.

“…you’ve been here for three and a half minutes already, you’re running out of time” you say turning to the men now, your eyes going great lengths to state your disinterest.

The man who had previously been shakily gripping his weapon turns to his compatriot.

“She’s not wrong man… maybe we should dip..?” He says, the nervousness in his voice reminding you of the many street pushers who have rolled over when confronted with a greater threat.

“Shut the fuck up, nobody called this shit in, we’ve had this building on lock down since we walked in” he answers, his voice gruff and stubborn.

“You don’t control the streets and there’s been quite a bit of traffic already, but what are the odds that the capes decide to answer a call that’s right on their doorstep?”

Both men go silent, looking out the large windows of the diner, a few cars rolling by as though to emphasize your point.

The men return back to the front of the diner, the leader housing a full bag of his own over his shoulder like a bank robber of old before the men softly depart, disappearing down an alley just across the street from the diner.

A weight is lifted from the entire room as several people burst into tears or shake as the adrenaline wears off, more then a few people reach for phones, calling on the capes to show up, to take reports, conduct an investigation, anything.

You hold your head in your hands, trying to settle yourself and the demon that waits in the wings of your mind, admonishing you for allowing the men slip away.

“I know that must have been hard for you but… you did the right thing… you can’t afford to give yourself away like that…” you know she’s right, at least a part of you does, had you acted on your urges it wouldn’t take long before news of the Crows return aired on every local radio show or news station, and now they’d have a face to match the name.

All you can do is nod in response as you grab your purse, pushing the strap high on your shoulder before leaving the diner, you cannot stomach this city for much longer, right now you need to be home, where you can collect your thoughts and subsequently bury the ones that scare you.