Maple Leaves

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**Maple Leaves**
**Author:** [[*user bunnyomega]]
⚠️ **Content warning:** CW: Implied Child Abuse, Implied SA, Bigotry, Transphobia, Child Death
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**It's 3 AM.**

The Young Boy's grandfather, finished with his nightly online poker session, powers down the family computer. He mutters a tired and defeated goodnight to the child, before stumbling to bed. The Young Boy sleeps on the floor of the apartment's living room, with only the carpet and a thin, scratchy blanket to keep him comfortable. His brother snores gently on the couch above him.

This is the only time The Young Boy is alone. This is his sanctuary, even if it only lasts a few minutes before he sleeps. This is the closest he has to peace.

A tapping on the 2nd floor apartment's balcony door startles The Young Boy out of his peace.

An elongated shape casts a shadow on the door's blinds. The only word that comes to his mind is 'Businessman.' He nervously stands up, careful not to wake his brother, and sneaks to the door. He stares at the shape in the doorway, terrified to confirm its existence. The door handle rattles. It wants to strike a deal.

------
**It's 9 AM.**

There's a banging on the door.

"Stop snoozing your alarm and get your ass up!" Maple's roommate, yells.

Maple shoots up out of bed, hair a mess, and bags under her eyes. She competes for the world's fastest morning routine almost daily, looking slightly above acceptable by the end of the 10 minutes she had to get out the door.

As she enters the kitchen, the newscaster announces the memorial of a missing girl. "Can't believe it's already been 20 years since that little girl went missing," her roommate says.

"Yeah, that was around my neighborhood too, but I don't think I ever met her. I think she was homeschooled." Maple sighs, putting her breakfast into the toaster. "I always felt a little guilty there was nothing I could do to help that family."

"It's not your fault that there's some sickos in the world."

The off brand toaster pastries pop up, prompting Maple to start heading out. She wolfs them down as quick as she heads to the door.

"Love you! Bye!"

"Get a job!"

Donning motorcycle helmet, she makes off for her interview, her cheap dress fluttering behind her. Her moped putters as it struggles to break 25 MPH. With only minutes to spare, she makes it to the building. She parks to the side, her helmet dangling off the handle bars above her various anti-cop stickers.

"Good morning, I have a 9:30 interview with Mr. Wason." She says in her best professional voice. The secretary holds a finger up to indicate one second, then looks up at Maple. Her finger then moves to the corner of her mouth. Maple blushes and gets rid of the rest of the leftover pop-tart knock-off that smeared across the corner of her mouth.

"You will not see Mr. Wason today," the secretary speaks up. "Instead you will speak to his replacement."

"Replacement? I just received the email setting this appointment up yesterday at lunch. How is he already repl-"

The secretary holds her hand up to Maple's face. "You will wait for him. In silence." She says solemnly, before returning to a chipper mood, "Thank you!"

Suddenly anxiety hits her like déjà vu. This is the type of anxiety that precedes a lightning strike. Maple has felt this anxiety before, when she was a Young ███. Cowering in fear of a what-could-that-be behind a door.

The minutes stretched into what felt like days before the door to the office slowly opened, allowing a man in a gray suit to walk in. He eyes her up and down, before extending his hand in a greeting. Maple returned the handshake, her hands shaking as she forced herself to grasp his hand.

"You've grown, young ████."

------
**It's 4 PM.**

The Young Boy runs through the woods, hopping over fallen logs. After school, The Young Boy meets The Stranger about half a mile into the woods. This has been the ritual for the past 2 weeks.

"There are things in this world that you may never understand. The line between the queer and the mundane is thinning. You have been chosen to a hero of this world. Heroes have the responsibility of protecting those weaker than him. They do this by showing evil no mercy, and destroying it."

The Young Boy thinks on these words as he runs. He wonders if he is capable of the violence that's being asked of him. He hopes he is.

The Young Boy also hopes that those who hurt him are evil, so he can destroy them too.

He slows down as he approaches The Stranger. Despite the promise of protection, The Young Boy can not look The Stranger in the face. Whenever he does, his stomach feels like it's turned into a washing machine, swirling around what the school tries to pass off as lunch.

"You're 13 seconds late."

"I'm sorry, sir, I—"

"Don't be sorry. Be better. You're supposed to be a hero."

------

**It's 10 AM.**

"It's nice to see you show up early for once, ████."

"I'm sorry, you've got the wrong person," Maple blurts out, grabbing her belongings and standing up. The Stranger moves to block her escape.

"I'd recognize that scent of failure from anywhere, even if has been covered with cheap perfume." It stares her down, studying every new facet of Its former student.

She backs up, trembling. Her eyes glued to the floor, not even daring to look at its shoes. Panic creeps up on her quickly and she stumbles backwards, falling and dropping her paperwork. Her hand automatically reaching for something she abandoned long ago, instead finding her mace. She pulls it out and points the can at The Stranger.

"I thought you were done with violence."

Maple sprays her mace in The Stranger's eyes. It responds with mild annoyance. She crawls backwards until her back is against the secretary's desk. Her eyes glued to The Stranger's feet. It slowly steps towards her.

"I'm not here for revenge, ████. I'm here to rebuild our **trust** in each other. The past doesn't matter now, does it?" It takes another step forward. "We just have to get you out of that dress," another step, "and into something more fitting for your work." One more step.

**//SNAP//**

Maple kicks Its shins, and the legs fall in two different directions, spewing out a black smoke as The Stranger falls over. She quickly rolls and sprints out the door, starting her moped up and fleeing.

-----
**It's 1 AM**

The Young Boy looks down on his first kill, a pile of gore and bone that was once a fox. He leans against a tree, and starts to wipe off his bat. When it's acceptably clean, he puts it in his bag, and takes a deep breath.

Then, The Young Boy weeps.

-----
**It's 11 AM.**

Maple crashes her moped into the curb, nearing the entrance to the forest. She could never forget where she laid her weapon to rest. Tears flood her eyes as she runs through the forest, buried memories crawling out of their grave.

Today, Maple will be a hero. She will destroy evil. She'll give that little girl a true memorial.

-----
**It's 7 PM.**

Quiet rests upon three figures silhouetted by the twilight of a summer evening. One is standing sternly. One is lying limp. One is on all fours, breathing shallow breaths, a puddle of vomit below it.

"Man up, ████. This isn't the first time you've killed," the larger of the two figures breaks the silence.

The Young Boy stares up at The Stranger, tears running down his face. Words are lost in the moment. Blood has started to mix with the vomit, trailing from the body next to The Young Boy.

"It had my face," he whimpers. "It begged for mercy."

"And you would have too, if you let it get to you first. ████, this isn't a game. This is war. Your potential is unmatched." It says the words coldly. "If I didn't want you, I would not have picked you. I can form you into something terrifying."

"You said you needed me, that only I could truly destroy evil."

"Anyone can kill, but you have the potential to destroy, young ████. You will be my ultimate weapon."

Like a brick falling on an egg, these words break something inside ████. He picks up his bat, light starting to pour out of the cracks in the wood. He gets into a fighting stance and faces The Stranger.

"Leave now. I'm done being a hero." His hands shake slightly, but his footing is strong.

"I'm not done with y-"

He takes a swing, hitting The Stranger in the head. Cracks start to form on its face as it seems to pull in light from the bat. ████ swings again, shattering The Stranger's false face. It stares at ████ for a moment before slinking away into the darkness of the coming night.

No longer a boy, but not quite a man, ████ stares at his own corpse.

He returns an hour later with a shovel stolen from his neighbor's shed to give it a proper burial.

He goes to sleep that night, unsure of what he is now.

-----
**It's 5 PM.**

"You'll have the power to deal with anyone who tries to hurt you," The Stranger tells a bruised little girl. "All you have to do is destroy a particularly tricky and evil creature."

She accepts and changes, growing taller and more boyish. "You must take this form and find the creature that looks like you. It will try to trick you, but with this look, you will look like it. This will give you the slightest advantage before it smells you. If you can kill it, you will keep this power to change into anything you want," It chuckles, "and stop anyone from ever hurting you again."

-----
**It's 12 PM.**

A mile and a half into the forest, Maple finds the shallow grave and the makeshift marker made from her bat and a stick. She rips off the vines that had grown over it and gives her former best friend a quick test swing.

"I am not **your** hero," she yells into the woods, as she gets into a defensive position. Black smoke starts to pour in from the trees, turning the small clearing into a dark arena.

Light starts to glow from the cracks on the bat.

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