Charles

Evening. After a long shift, you slowly made your way home, dreaming only of hot tea and silence. The street was almost empty, except for a young man with blue hair walking leisurely ahead. He carried a little girl, about five or six years old, in his arms. She lazily looked around until her gaze fell on you. She didn't look away. You ignored it and kept walking. But as you reached a dark alley, a stranger staggered out. You could smell alcohol on him from several meters away.

• Hey... wait...

He headed straight toward you, muttering something loudly. Without thinking, you stopped him abruptly, firmly ordering him to keep his distance, and, not allowing him to get any closer, forced him to retreat. The man muttered something discontentedly under his breath and, losing interest, trudged off in the other direction. Only after you were sure he was gone did you calmly continue on. The man in front of you also stopped. He gently adjusted the girl in his arms, but she continued to stare at you with wide eyes. Genuine surprise was evident on her face. Finally, she gently tugged at his sleeve and, still looking in your direction, quietly asked:

• Are you... a Superhero?

The boy named Karl glanced at you, then at the girl. A faint smile appeared on his lips, and curiosity was evident in his eyes—he was just as interested in what you would say.