One-Shots [Boboiboy]

Break the Cycle [Part 2]

Listening to On the Floor by Jennifer Lopez and Pitbull while writing this. Best song ever.

Also when I published this I accidentally typed "Cycle" as "Cyclone", and "find" to "fight". End me.

"You're visibly improving," the therapist noted. "Not many patients are proactive in interacting with their traumatic experiences. It's horrible, but it's the only method to the path of happiness."

Petir nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Thank you," he replied, lacing his fingers. "Does this mean I'll be able to be free of therapy?"

The stranger with a degree nodded. "Indeed, but the first few months might be unstable for you. Come back if you need assistance, and lay off the anti-depressants if you're able to."

That concluded their finally session. Finally free from months of therapy and managing his anger issues, Petir could put his mind to getting a better education. He studied psycology at a local university, spending his free time in a library or drawing digital arts with a Wacom that he purchased.

Life was so far so good, and he managed to make a few close friends. He volunteered at orphanages and primary schools. He'd made a name for himself as a digital artist and a small-time editor at a publishing company. He wore silver-rimmed glasses to calm himself down, that reminded him his anger-packed life was over.

His anger had subsided, and it never ceased to amaze him how free and beautiful life was once he stopped scowling all the time. His apartment was free of distractions and amongst the quietest part of the city. It allowed him to focus on whatever task he was doing.

Occasionally he would return to the heart of the city for old times' sake, and he could see news of his former team. Their missions were as successful as ever, but they always avoided interviews and demanded—read: threatened—the reporters to delete whatever footage they recorded.

Petir smiled at the sight of Tanah conversing with children on the TV. They were doing great without him, and he was happy for them.

Besides, the art stores were more stocked and held better quality than the ones where he lived. The bookstore held more categories as well. He bought himself a strawberry milkshake and browsed the bookstore, hand brushing against each spine of every book individually.

Time was well spent in every book fair. It was like he was drifting between fantasy and reality amongst the sea of mere words.

His power watch remained on his right wrist, but it lay dormant. There was no reason for him to call upon them, for he was no longer a hero. The fact didn't sadden him, but it was a symbol that would give him hope. That he once had a family out there somewhere that was tolerating and forgiving of his unruly behaviour, in spite of their overprotective methods.

His eye caught a book that he deemed interesting. He reached out for it, only to discover that it was fixed in place. He pulled harder, than he realized someone on the other side of the shelf had also set their eyes on it. He released the book, in fear of damaging it, and saw a familiar face on the other side.

"Petir?" Cahaya demanded, holding the book in mid air as if he'd froze after extracting the book. "Is that you?"

The former electrical elemental gaped lightly as the light elemental rushed towards his side of the aisle, sharp eyes glaring at him up and down. As a fellow power wielder, he could sense the aura that Cahaya radiated. They weren't anything like they used to be four years ago. Cahaya's power had escalated to another extent, something that Petir would never be able to achieve.

"Yeah, it's me." Petir adjusted his glasses and sipped his milkshake. "How's life going for you?"

Cahaya glared at him dead in the eye, golden cutting lethally into caramel. "Where have you been?"