A-Train

The manuscript was thick, so A-Train got straight to the point.

"During my morning run, I passed my billboard. The angle wasn't great. It showed only three-tenths of how cool I am. I'd like a reshoot."

"That's not a Supe deed, is it?"

Ryan looked at A-Train's serious expression. The guy was talking about nothing but his own interests.

But A-Train stood his ground.

"This is important."

Whatever. Ryan couldn't be bothered with him and turned to the next person.

One chair looked empty, though someone was clearly sitting in it, and a voice came from it.

"I'm Translucent. I saw something new while spying on people, and I'd like to share it with everyone."

"Okay, next."

"Huh? I've barely started."

"No, that's enough."

Ryan thought Translucent's endless enthusiasm for spying on people was a strange hobby.

He looked at the last person, whose body was covered head to toe in black.

The Supe, Black Noir.

The man's habitual silence reminded Ryan of a saying from home.

Barking dogs seldom bite.

But when the Supe picked up the manuscript on the table, he reported something dull.

"I took down a few bank robbers."

"Why do banks get robbed every day?"

"Obviously it's the banks' fault. Who told them to be so rich?"

Black Noir answered Ryan's question briefly, then continued his report.

"I hate bank robbers. After injuring the criminals, I used my fists, pliers, and a chainsaw to study the human pain response."

Ryan merely nodded to show he had heard.

Sure enough, none of the people here were good, especially Black Noir.

He was a thug who used The Seven's reputation and the image of a hero to get away with brutality.

And because he inflicted that brutality on criminals, it was hard for anyone to find fault with him.

By this point in the meeting, almost everyone had recounted their heroic deeds, apart from absentees like Homelander.

It was still early. Outside the window, birds flew across the sky.

Everyone looked toward the person sitting in the middle of the table: a boy.

His name was Ryan. He glanced around and realized it was his turn to speak.

What should I talk about?

Ryan was troubled. After all, he had done so many good deeds.

If he listed them one by one, he might still be talking days from now.

When it came down to it, merely being born into this world and breathing its air were acts of justice.

Ryan gathered his thoughts and spoke.

"Meeting adjourned."

"?"

"?"

"?"

Their puzzled looks didn't bother Ryan. He figured they wanted him to add a few words of praise.

So he did.

"I've heard enough to know you're all wonderful Supes."

"Really?"

The Deep looked genuinely delighted.

Ryan had no choice but to tell the truth.

"Of course not. I was just being polite."

"...If I could beat you, I'd punch you."

"Come on, then. I won't bow to force."

Ryan flexed his fingers. He could use a fight, and he quoted another saying from home to challenge The Deep, who was all talk.

But The Deep used the adjourned meeting as an excuse to flee.

The meeting was over, and everyone left their seats.

Everyone except A-Train.

Still wearing his standard blue tracksuit, he sat in his chair and refused to leave.

Ryan turned and saw the guy fiddling with his fingers.

"Pull a few off and play with those. What you're doing isn't exciting enough."

"That would hurt way too much."

A-Train shuddered and pulled back his hand, looking glum.

"It's not that I want to stay in the conference room. Legal told me I have to apologize to someone in person."

"Apologize?"

"Yeah. I was running down the street and smashed the guy's girlfriend to pieces. I couldn't put her back together, so all I can do is apologize."

There were two kinds of apologies: asking for forgiveness with words, which addressed someone's feelings.

And offering money, which addressed their loss.

A-Train waited in the conference room for a while before someone knocked on the door.

A Vought International employee in a black suit led a young man inside.

The young man looked green. Captivated by the spacious, luxurious conference room, he glanced all around.

The Vought International employee who had accompanied him introduced him.

Hughie, whose girlfriend A-Train had killed.

He had asked for an apology from A-Train.

Ryan stood to leave the conference room. The conversation ahead would be nothing more than "I'm sorry" and "I forgive you."

Meaningless lines delivered without a shred of feeling. All a formality.

Ryan had no interest in it. He got to his feet, but A-Train asked him to stay.

"It's fine. You can listen too. I don't look that bad when I apologize."

"You don't look that good, either."

"I look good on the track. Come cheer me on sometime."

A-Train's invitation was part of a casual chat between colleagues, right in front of Hughie.

Their voices drew Hughie's attention back. He was only an employee at a Video Store.

His ordinary life was filled with ordinary things.

Seven Tower was different. It was bustling and grand, with splendor that hit him the moment he walked in.

Hughie had never seen anything like it before entering the building. It left him awestruck.

But he knew he didn't belong here.

He had come for a reason. He looked at A-Train. That was the man who had run into his girlfriend by the roadside and torn her apart.

Poor Robin had died by the side of the road in the prime of her youth.

The thought made Hughie want to walk up and punch A-Train a few times.

He had considered asking Vought International's legal department to let him beat A-Train up to vent his anger.

His condition would be that A-Train couldn't fight back.

But no one would agree to something so unreasonable.

So he had settled for seeking an apology. Yet as Hughie watched A-Train,

he saw the man chatting happily with a colleague. Going over to ask him to apologize

felt like begging for a scrap of kindness.

It made Hughie uncomfortable. He turned his gaze to A-Train's colleague instead.

The boy was clearly much younger than him and strikingly good-looking.

"Customer."

Hughie couldn't help calling out when he recognized the face. At the sound, the boy looked his way.

Ryan saw Hughie standing there in a daze and thought he had forgotten how to walk.

So he gave him a nudge.

"Didn't you come for an apology? Come sit over here. You'll hear better."

"...Okay."

Before, Hughie had thought of the customer as an assertive boy. Meeting him again now, Hughie felt compelled to do as he said.

As for why the boy was here, Hughie couldn't bring himself to ask in the conference room.

His body had already found a seat and obediently sat down.

The seat was across from A-Train.

The Vought International employee checked his watch, told Hughie how much time he had, then closed the door and left.

Now Hughie was alone with his nerves.

He opened his mouth and asked A-Train,

"Do you have anything to say about my girlfriend's death?"

A-Train propped his head on his hand, looking thoroughly impatient.

"My deepest condolences."

"You call that an apology?"

"I'm full of remorse. I can't believe you can't tell."