Descending slowly from the high sky, Ariel stepped onto the porch.
The front door was unlocked; a gentle push revealed a girl sitting on the couch.
She was staring intently at the TV screen, her long golden hair draped over her shoulders, with a few stray strands slipping past her ears to obscure half her face, giving her a vaguely ominous aura.
What a terrifying sight…
“Good evening,” Ariel closed the door behind him, blocking out the night breeze he had brought in with him.
“I thought you’d be playing detective with Elaine and the others tonight.”
Joanna said nothing.
Ariel didn’t mind.
If there ever came a day when Joanna suddenly started chattering about gossip, he’d have to seriously consider whether Deathstroke was impersonating her.
Taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack, the youth swept his peripheral vision over the couch.
The girl was wearing pajamas printed with a yellow, electric-type mouse, her legs pulled tightly to her chest and lightly wrapped in her arms—looking like a picture of peace and serenity, completely at peace with the world.
Yet the dainty toes curled up at the edge of the couch betrayed the unease in her heart.
The benefit of growing up with Joanna since childhood was…
Ariel didn’t need super vision to read Joanna’s body language.
She was currently feeling insecure.
Translated into plain English: She was afraid of being alone.
The house was far too empty; Martha and Jonathan had been going into town almost every night recently.
The field crops were doing poorly, and the farmers across all of Smallville were overwhelmed with stress.
The kindhearted couple always felt that as long as everyone stuck together, they could pull through, so they consistently went to help organize fundraisers and mutual aid at the community center next to the church.
Clark went along to haul tables and chairs, too—after all, Superman’s bubbling, virtuous heart would never allow him to sit at home while his parents worked themselves to the bone.
This meant that for most of tonight, this house belonged solely to Joanna.
Ariel remembered the last time a similar situation had occurred—five years ago on Thanksgiving.
He, Clark, and the Jonathans had gone into town while Joanna stayed behind to watch the house.
When they returned, Joanna’s expression had been serene, and if Clark, the snitch, hadn’t secretly told him the next day that the trash can at the turn of the stairs was filled with used tissues, he would never have known.
At any rate, Ariel had rarely left the house at night after that.
Tonight was an exception, though…
He had needed to handle the Deathstroke matter in person.
“Jo—”
The moment Ariel opened his mouth, he looked up and collided straight into the girl’s ice-cold eyes.
She followed his gaze downward, her toes snapping back and hiding completely within the shadow of Pikachu.
“Ariel, are you some kind of pervert with a desire for your sister’s feet?”
Ariel’s eye twitched.
First, Lana Lang thought he had broken into the dance room to do something indescribable to her dance shoes, and now it was Joanna’s turn to decide he was a pervert harboring improper thoughts toward his cousin’s toes.
Must his godlike, shining, perfect persona…
really die in the line of duty under the label of “pervert”?
Today was September 17th, two hundred and thirty-four days until the end of the semester.
Though Ariel felt that the tribulations of his semester had only just begun.
“Since you feel that way, for the sake of my personal safety and your mental health,” the youth turned around, expressionless, “good night, I’m going to sleep.”
“Wait.”
Joanna’s voice sounded behind him.
“…Ariel…
that’s not what I meant…”
“Heh…
then what did you mean?
I’m already heartbroken, dear sister.”
“I just wanted to ask…
where did you go tonight?” she asked softly.
“…?!”
Flattered and surprised, Ariel turned his head back, looking at the girl gripping the hem of her T-shirt and repeatedly kneading the pattern of Pikachu’s tail.
“Are you…
actually caring about me?” The boy suddenly felt a urge to tease her.
“You’re my family, of course I care about you,” the girl said softly, her eyelids cast downward.
What?
Joanna hadn’t hissed at him?!
Ariel felt his brain go into system overload.
He had been fully prepared to take her usual “none of your damn business” line and make a stylish exit upstairs, only for her to throw the city gates wide open with a “welcome home.”
This left him a bit at a loss.
When was the last time Joanna had said something like that to him?
“Alright then.”
Ariel tried his best to keep the corners of his mouth from curving up too noticeably.
“Then I’m very sorry…
my dear sister, I shouldn’t have left you home alone.”
He turned and walked back to the couch, intentionally nudging Joanna’s thigh with his rear as he plopped down.
As a seasoned risk-assessment master and opportunist, he would never let slip a single chance to build affinity and pull their family relationship closer.
If he slacked on building their bond, he wouldn’t even have a valid reason to pull an idealistic, emotional power-up in the future if he ever ran into trouble.
Joanna was shoved slightly to the side, but she didn’t move away, merely pulling her knees a bit tighter.
“You’re so annoying,” she muttered, her brows furrowing slightly.
“Don’t you like warm family moments like this?” Ariel blinked innocently.
Joanna shifted her body further to the other side of the couch, leaving Ariel with an icy side profile.
Ariel gleefully watched the ruffled girl, suddenly feeling a surge of nostalgia.
The sixteen-year-old Joanna Kent of today was no longer the thin, short, blonde girl with a face full of hostility from eight years ago.
The physical advantages granted by Compound V had been catalyzed during puberty by Martha’s apple pies and Kansas sunshine into a cheerful presence carrying an imposing aura.
He felt a slight warmth in his eyes.
“Joanna.”
“Hmm?”
“Let’s end our cold war.”
“Are you finally ready to go to war with me for real, then?”
Joanna turned her head to look at him, sparks igniting deep within her pupils.
Ariel’s expression froze.
I’m so naive, I really am…
He had only known that ending the cold war with his sister was a good thing, never anticipating that ending a cold war could lead directly to an armed conflict…
Rising from the couch, Ariel walked toward the stairs.
Joanna sat motionless on the couch, her lips curling into a subtle arc only after his footsteps had faded into the distance.
Though her mouth pressed flat again almost immediately.
She lowered her gaze to her side…
A backpack.
At six o’clock this evening…
When Joanna had opened the door, she saw Lana Lang standing under the porch, holding a backpack tightly in her arms.
“Joanna.
I…
I’m here to return Ariel’s backpack…
He asked me to bring it over…”
The auburn-haired girl had stood at the door, her water-blue eyes filled with panic.
Lana Lang—Lana Lang again…
The girl who had frequently hovered around Ariel ever since the school bus accident in third grade; the woman who stood on the sidelines watching Ariel run during every gym class; the woman who glanced at Ariel out of the corner of her eye during every school dance, yet never dared to open her mouth and invite him…
Joanna had thought that her mere presence over the years was deterrence enough.
No one would try to poach a lioness’s mate right in front of a male lion…
It was common sense.
Yet today, this cheerleader had actually come right to her doorstep…
Damn fox.
Just how many of them are there, and how many more corners are they going to pop out from…
Joanna!”
“Town was really lively today.
Remember Pete?
That boy who likes insects?
He let a bunch of spiders loose near the church entrance tonight, and…”
The front door was pushed open, and Clark Kent walked into the living room shouting at the top of his lungs.
SZZZT—!
Scorching red light sliced across a potted plant.
Several leaves of the ivy turned into fertilizer.
Clark: “…”
Which…
which foot did I step inside with just now?
Left foot?
Wait…
is stepping in with the left foot a capital crime?!
“Joanna…
I…”
“I’m pruning the branches, Clark.
Haven’t you noticed this ivy is growing out of bounds?”
Clark looked down at the lush ivy that was practically growing out the window, then raised his head to look at the expressionless Joanna on the couch…
“…It really is…
growing out of bounds?”
Wait, why does this sound so bizarre?
On the other side of the house.
Ariel pushed open his bedroom door, walked over to the window, and yanked the curtains open with a rustle.
The moonlight was lovely tonight.
Yes, he could absorb moonlight as well.
Although the efficiency was ten thousand times lower than sunlight, for an Eternal, it was an almost instinctive biological need—just like pulling up the blanket before going to sleep.
Lying in bed, Ariel pulled the glowing red gem pendant out from his collar.
His nightly routine check-in.
Ever since he was hit by that silver-white lion in the cornfield at eight years old.
Ariel took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
Dark clouds veiled the moon.
In its place was a sea of darkness.
Ariel snapped his eyes open once more.
A lucid dream.
The vault of heaven hung low, and a silver mist rising from the ground flowed slowly past.
A silver-white lion stepped out from the fog, its gilded mane draped over its chest.
Its pace was slow…
Yet every time its paw pads struck the ground, the entire void space emitted a muffled sound like war drums!
Eight years.
This damned lion had plagued him for eight whole years.
But today was different.
After all…
“Eight years.”
“By all rights, a kitty of your caliber no longer has the right to hiss at me.”
HUM—!
As his words fell, the youth surged into the air, golden light flickering in his eyes!
The dark night and silver mist were completely ignited by the monarch’s majesty, causing a golden storm as brilliant as the lion’s own to flare around his body!
He was already a world apart from the boy who had sat paralyzed in the cornfield eight years ago!
“Usurper!
Stand down!”