Chapter Text
The cafeteria was bustling with the kind of chaotic energy that only a thousand super-powered teenagers could create. The clang of a dropped tray, the low hum of conversation, and the soft whoosh of a student flying just a few feet over the tables filled the air. The student body president was next to me, finishing the tour of the school.
“Now that's all settled, it's time for your lunch.” She smiled.
“Thanks, Gwen! Honestly, I don't know what I would've done without you.”
“Hey, that's my job. Wouldn't want the transfer kid getting lost around here,” she laughed then continued. "Unfortunately I have to take my leave now; the principal was asking for me. You can have your lunch, though, and go to your class according to the schedule."
“Alright, thanks so much, Gwen! I'll catch you later.” Waving good-bye with a big smile, I watched her walk out of the cafeteria.
For a moment, I just stood there, letting the sheer noise of the place wash over me. A thousand different possibilities all screaming for attention at once: a 78% chance that the boy in the corner would drop his tray, a 45% chance the girl flying overhead would lose momentum, a 99% chance that the couple in the back was about to break up. It was a constant storm of information, and I took a quiet breath, pushing it all down until it was just a dull roar in the back of my mind. For the sake of my sanity.
I made my way to the queue and waited for my turn to get the food, humming a tune to myself until I felt someone tap my shoulder. I turned around with a bright, welcoming smile and saw a girl with pigtails wearing a green shirt beaming at me. "Hi, you must be the transfer student, I'm Layla,” she greeted, stretching out her hand for me to take.
Taking her hand and giving it a friendly squeeze, I introduced myself, prompting a nod from her.
“That’s a pretty name,” Layla said, a bit nervously, as if she were about to say something else. Eventually she made up her mind and continued, “I don't know if you have a seat yet, but you're welcome to sit with me and my friends, if you'd like, of course. We're all in the Hero Support program, so we kind of stick together.”
I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face. “Oh, my gosh, I'd love that! I was hoping I wouldn’t have to eat alone.”
Layla let out a breath of relief and laughed. “Oh, good, I was scared I spooked you out or something!”
I giggled, grabbing my tray. “Not a chance! Let's get our food and get to that table.”
As we made our way through the line together, it felt like a small victory. I might have finally made my first friend here and we are getting food together! I got my food before Layla and waited for her to get hers before looping my arm with hers, walking towards our destination hand in hand. We finally reached the table and the others—who I later came to find out are Will, Ethan, Magenta, and Zach—were all laughing and making room for us once they noticed our arrival. Layla introduced us to each other and everyone gave their welcomes to me as the new transfer student. I sat down next to Layla who has Will on her other side, with Zach, Ethan, and Magenta on the opposite side.
Ethan pushed his glasses up his nose. “Welcome,” he said earnestly. “If you need a map of the school's ventilation system, I have one. Surprisingly enough, it’s faster than using the hallways during peak traffic.”
I blinked, then giggled. “Uh, thanks! I'll keep that in mind.”
Zach waved a dismissive hand at him before calling out to me, “Don't mind him. So, what brings you here? A little late to the year, but still a good time to start.”
Hearing that question, everyone turned to look at me out of curiosity of the answer. I felt a nervous flutter in my stomach, and my smile became a little more strained. “Oh, you know,” I started, trying to sound casual as I pushed some food around on my plate with a fork. “Just some complicated family stuff. It's a super long and boring story, trust me.”
I tried to change the subject immediately. “So, what's the deal with the classes here? Layla mentioned something about ‘Hero Support’?”
My attempt to deflect was completely lost on them.
“Family stuff?” Ethan piped up, leaning forward with interest. “Is it hero-related? Did your parents get assigned to protect this city or something?”
“Yeah!” Zach added, his face lighting up. “Are they famous? My parents are just... normal.” He said the word 'normal' like it was a boring flavor of ice cream.
Will, trying to be helpful, chimed in. “My parents are The Commander and Jetstream. It can be a lot of pressure, so I get it if you don't want to talk about it.” While his intention was kind, it only drew more attention to the topic.
I offered a weak laugh, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. I opened my mouth to try and come up with another vague answer, but thankfully, Layla cut in.
She gently nudged my shoulder, drawing my attention. “Guys, give her a break. She literally just got here,” she said, before turning to me with a kind smile that let me know she understood. “Anyway, to answer your question, Hero Support is... interesting. Mr. Boy is our teacher. He used to be All-American Boy, The Commander's old sidekick.”
The boys, getting the hint from Layla's tone, finally dropped it. Will had the decency to look a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck, while Zach just shrugged, his curiosity already moving on to the next topic. The conversation shifted to stories about Mr. Boy and the general weirdness of Sky High, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I shot Layla a small, grateful look, and she gave me a subtle nod and smile in return.
A genuine warmth spread through my chest, a feeling I hadn't let myself have in years. It had been so long since I'd just sat at a table and laughed with people. And these people... they were different. They could glow, melt, and shapeshift. They could handle themselves. For the first time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I could actually relax.
The topics came and flowed easily between us. I came to find out that they were all placed in Hero Support because of their ‘less useful’ powers like Zach who glows (in the dark), Ethan who can melt into a puddle of goo, Magenta who can shapeshift albeit limited to a guinea pig, except for Will who had no powers and Layla who refused to participate in the Power Placement test. Questioning her decision, Layla then explained how she doesn’t want to support the hero/sidekick dichotomy. She continued on how unfair the system is when I felt a burning sensation in the back of my head. I looked around to find out the source of it, eventually coming to the sight of a guy with black hair wearing a black leather jacket sitting by himself. He had a sharp glare directed towards our table, specifically to the back of Will’s head, accompanied with a deep scowl decorating his already angry face. I turned back to the table.
“Who is that guy over there?” I pointed towards the grumpy guy’s way.
Everyone turned to look at the direction my finger was pointing at to see who I was talking about. Once they figured out who it was, they immediately turned away from looking towards his direction. Will flinched and hunched his shoulders slightly, Layla shot a quick worried glance from Will to the brooding guy, and Zach muttered, “Don’t make eye contact,” under his breath.
“Oh, that’s Warren Peace,” Magenta said dismissively as if that name was supposed to ring a bell for me. It didn’t. None. At all.
Looking at the others, everyone had the same ‘yea that’s the guy’ look. Still not satisfied with the answer, I chimed, “Is he a bitter failed singer, or something? He looks so… grumpy…” then turned to look at him again, confused as to why that name was supposed to be something so important that every pupil in Sky High should know about it. Facing his general direction again, his gaze was no longer digging a hole to the back of Will’s head but instead directed at me. A little taken aback by the sudden hostility, I composed myself then threw a wide grin and excitedly waved to him.
His eyebrows raised a little and for a single, fleeting moment, the sharpness in his expression was gone; and the anger in his face was replaced by pure, unfiltered confusion. That was, at least before he got back to putting on the expression he had earlier. He gave a slight shake of his head and turned back to his food, pointedly ignoring our table.
The silence that fell over my new friends was deafening. I turned back from Warren to find five pairs of eyes staring at me as if I had just grown a second head.
It was Zach who broke the silence, his voice a loud, incredulous whisper. "Did you just... wave at him? Like, an actual, friendly, 'hello-how-are-you' wave?"
"She did," Magenta confirmed, her voice completely deadpan. She took a slow sip of her soda. "A new record for the shortest life expectancy at Sky High."
"He's not going to do anything!" I laughed, trying to brush off their concern. "He just looked lonely."
"Lonely?" Will squeaked, his voice an octave higher than usual. "He's not lonely, he's... Warren Peace! His dad is Baron Battle!"
Layla placed a gentle hand on my arm, her expression soft but serious. "Will's right," she said, her voice low. "You shouldn't have done that. Don't you know who he is?"
I looked from Layla's concerned face to the others, who were all nodding in agreement. Then I glanced back over at the boy sitting alone, now eating his food. A slow smile spread across my face.
"Nope!" I said, my voice full of sudden energy. "But I'm about to find out."
Before any of them could react, I stood up from the table with my tray in hand and walked directly towards his. The low hum of the cafeteria seemed to fade as I crossed the floor. I could feel the eyes of my new friends—and probably half the student body—on my back. When I reached his table, I didn't hesitate.
"Hi," I said cheerfully, placing my tray down and sliding into the seat opposite him, throwing out my name. "I'm new here."
Warren looked up from his tray, his eyes narrowed into slits. The fork in his hand was held so tightly his knuckles were white. He didn't say anything, just stared at me with pure, undisguised suspicion.
"What do you want?" he finally bit out, his voice a low growl.
"Company, mostly," I replied, completely unfazed. I took a bite of my food. "And I was curious about something."
"Curious about what?" he asked, his tone laced with impatience.
I leaned forward slightly, resting my chin on my hand and looking at him with genuine interest. "Do you have a lot of internal conflicts?"
His scowl faltered, replaced once again by that look of utter confusion. It was even more pronounced up close. "What are you talking about?"
"Your name," I explained simply. "Warren Peace. It sounds like 'War and Peace.' I was just wondering if the name also applies to the person."
He just stared at me, his mouth slightly agape. For the first time since I’d seen him, the anger was completely gone, washed away by a wave of disbelief. He looked utterly, completely speechless.
He stared at me for a long moment, the confusion on his face slowly hardening back into a scowl, but this time it's mixed with a look of disbelief. He lets out a short, humorless laugh.
"You're analyzing me now?" he said, his voice dripping with condescending amusement. "What's next, are you going to ask me about my relationship with my mother? Get lost."
With a final, dismissive glare, he grabbed his tray, stood up, and walked away, heading for the cafeteria exit. I watched him go, my brow furrowed.The gang was right; he was grumpy. But the way they had reacted to his name... it was a familiar kind of fear. The kind of fear people have when they're looking at a legacy, not a person.
As he passed the last row of tables, I called out, my voice clear enough to cut through the noise. "Am I supposed to know anything about you?"
Warren froze mid-stride. His back to me, but I could see his shoulders tense up. For a few seconds, he didn’t move. Then, very slowly, he turned his head just enough to look at me over his shoulder. The anger was gone again, replaced by that same, genuine confusion from before.
"You really have no idea, do you?" he asked, his voice no longer hostile, just genuinely baffled.
Without waiting for an answer, he turned back and walked out of the cafeteria, leaving me with five stunned friends and a brand new mystery.
I took a deep breath, suddenly aware of just how quiet the cafeteria had become. Dozens of eyes were on me. With as much confidence as I could muster, I picked up my tray, stood up, and walked back to my friends. As I slid back into my seat beside Layla, the spell of silence was finally broken.
Zach leaned so far over the table he almost knocked over the salt shaker. "Okay, seriously," he said, his voice a mix of awe and sheer disbelief. "You're either the bravest person I've ever met or you're completely insane. I haven't decided which yet."
"She's insane," Magenta stated flatly, not looking up from her tray. "But it was entertaining."
Ethan pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking at me like I was a science experiment that had just gone unexpectedly right. "Statistically speaking," he said, "the probability of a hostile reaction involving property damage was approximately 98.7%. You're a fascinating outlier."
"Why?" I asked, finally turning to face them fully. "What's the big deal? So his name is a pun and he's grumpy. What did I miss?"
Will looked like he had swallowed a bug. "What did you miss? His dad is Baron Battle." He said the name in a hushed, dramatic tone, as if the cafeteria walls might be listening.
Baron Battle. The name was vaguely familiar, a headline from a news report I’d half-listened to years ago. But it had nothing to do with the angry, isolated boy I’d just spoken to. The connection didn't click. I just stared back at Will with a blank expression.
Layla, seeing my genuine confusion, took over, her voice gentle but serious. "Baron Battle is one of the most dangerous supervillains of all time. He's in prison for life." She paused, then gestured to a still-shaken Will. "Will's dad... The Commander... was the one who put him there."
That's when it all clicked into place. The burning glare at the back of Will's head. The gang's immediate fear. The hostility that radiated from him like heat off pavement. It wasn't just a bad mood; it was a legacy. They were judging him for his father's sins. And I knew better than anyone how heavy a burden that could be.
"Oh," I said softly, looking towards the empty doorway he had disappeared through.
I had thought he looked lonely. But it was more than that. He was completely, utterly isolated, living in the shadow of a war that had ended before he was even old enough to fight. And everyone here, I realized, was making sure he never forgot it.
A new feeling settled in my chest, pushing past the confusion. It was determination. My new friends saw him as a threat, a legacy of a villain. But I saw someone who was hurting. And I wanted to know the boy, not just the legacy he was forced to carry.