𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓼- 𝓜𝓲𝓰𝓾𝓮𝓵 𝓞'𝓗𝓪𝓻𝓪

The Chip on his Shoulder

Miguel didn't try to schedule another training session with you. Not as though it mattered. Even if he had tried, you wouldn't have come. 

You avoided the strong, brooding set of his shoulders. You coldly ignored him, pretending he didn't exist. Except for when he swept into training room like a northern wind. How could you not notice when everyone shifted toward his presence like planets orbiting the sun? 

Miguel ignored you as well, probably deeming you a lost cause and keeping you here only to humor Jessica. He didn't treat you with the commanding interest he showed in the other recruits. He'd bark corrections and nod encouragements at their technique. But to you, he offered nothing but his utter disregard. 

"You know, he's not so bad." Arachnida shrugged after you'd finished a rant. "He knows what he's doing. You could learn a lot from him, (y/n)." She was sitting cross-legged on the ceiling. You all were, huddled around the flickering chandelier like it was a tea party. 

Your training unit had become inseparable. You, Hobie, and Arachnida explored the colossal training complex every night after curfew. It felt illicit and thrilling, crawling along walls and slipping through tinny vents. Noir cringed at the very suggestion of breaking the rules, but occasionally Arachnida's peppy enthusiasm and you and Hobie's prodding grins dragged him out along with you. 

You and Hobie were the troublemakers. Arachnida lived for the fun of it. And though Noir wouldn't admit it, he hated to be left alone, shivering in the shadow of his own thoughts. 

"Think of this as spider boot camp!" Arachnida continued, her voice a husky whisper. After curfew, the cavernous rooms were usually empty, but it never hurt to be careful. 

"Spider boot camp?" You skeptically raised your eyebrows. You didn't like the unappealing direction she plunged towards. 

"As much as you hate Miguel, take his advice and better yourself. Then, when you get to go home your time won't have been wasted; you'll be even more able to protect your city!"

"Hey, she's not wrong," Hobie easily nudged your shoulder, his eyes amused when you scowled back. He was such a traitor. "And Miguel's got a point. About the multiverse. He's been explaining stuff to me."

"He's been explaining stuff to you?" You flatly repeated, trying to shovel the betrayal out of your voice like unwanted snow on a driveway. You didn't want to play the annoying girl who nursed a grudge and controlled who her friends were allowed to talk to. 

"Yeah," Hobie brazenly declared. He kicked back his head, sending his thick locks tumbling back. "I think I'm going to join his team." 

"What?" You and Arachnida shrieked at the same time. 

"Gee, somebody needs to go back to stealth training," Noir muttered, holding his fedora in his lap like a halloween pumpkin. 

"What?" You hissed again, quiet and urgent. 

"Listen, me old china," Hobie drawled with a tinge of annoyance, his cockney accent heavy. "You have a huge chip on your shoulder. And maybe that chip's deserved, but you should toss it, alright?" 

"Grudges are meant for keeping," Noir argued, staring back at you with the earnest, blank eyes of his suit. Noir never took off his mask. Even around friends. He took the secrecy of his identity quite seriously. 

"I'm with Noir. I think I'll keep my grudge." You cuffed Hobie over the head to show him there were no hard feelings. He rolled back with a grin. You popped to your feet, your feet tapping across the plaster ceiling. You gave a relaxed, three-fingered wave. "See you guys."

Even though it was only 4 am, this morning you'd felt a sudden inspiration to try out the complex's gym. It was open to all recruits, but you doubted anyone would be lurking around the machines this early.