Short Story: Fragile Things
For Theo, who had super strength, everything was fragile. Almost everything he owned was damaged in some way. His pillow had a busted corner from when he grabbed it too hard. His door had stress fractures from when he knocked it closed. His clothes had mended patches from when he’d tugged them on in a hurry.
And those grooves on the side of the bottle? Those were definitely from that time when he frantically caught it right before it dropped off the city wall.
“No. This is mine,” the delinquent said. His buddies eagerly backed him up.
Theo wanted to scream. Here he was, an S class Fighter who regularly fought monsters twice his size outside the city wall, getting robbed by delinquents. Again. Why?
Well, the situation might be similar, but he was different now. His seniors had spent the time to give him special training sessions and sacrificed dozens of glass cups precisely for moments like this.
He still hesitated before the first grab. People were fragile things, and unlike glass, he couldn’t brush things off if they break.
He would just have to be extra careful.
Theo reached for his bottle. When the delinquent moved it out of reach, he gently but firmly held the delinquent’s arm in place. The delinquent’s buddies hit and pulled him, but Theo stood firm and focused on the delicate balance of strength he needed to pry his bottle free without breaking anything.
Finally, he had his bottle once more. The delinquents, now empty handed, turned tail and ran.
It was an anticlimactic end, but he got his bottle back and he hadn’t been locked up by delinquents again. That was something worth celebrating.