Chapter 115: Find My Whereabouts

A pure white room.

Only the ceiling light shone, while the floor and walls were covered with panels of special plastic.

…For a moment, I remembered the past and frowned… but I shook it off and faced the woman standing before me.

What I was wearing now was not my usual clothes.
I had on a suit made of a special, rubber-like material.
It restricted my movement somewhat… but in exchange, it was supposed to absorb a certain degree of impact.

I lifted my gaze.

Standing before me was… a red-haired woman.
She too wore a black rider’s suit, but on her belt was a red hourglass emblem.

The symbol of the black widow spider—Black Widow.

Without a word, I lowered my stance… and kicked off the ground with bent legs.

Diving low, almost crawling along the floor, I closed in on the Widow.
I thrust my hand up, aiming to seize her ankle—only for her to slip out of reach with ease.

"Tch…"

With the hand I had thrust forward, I grabbed the edge of the floor panel and swung my leg around.
But again, she twisted her body and dodged me—by the narrowest of margins.

No, not just narrowly.
She had clearly seen through me.

…Maybe I had been holding back.
My opponent was the strongest spy, Black Widow.
It would be presumptuous to think of showing mercy.

I pushed up into a handstand, legs spread wide… and spun.

Perhaps caught off guard, she blocked with her arm in haste—but—

Got her.

I hooked her with my legs and dragged her down to the floor.
Shifting all my weight onto my legs, I moved to twist—

But Widow trapped my calf with her elbow.

"…!"

She forced my hold open and slipped free, countering by locking my throat instead.
Using her arms and elbows with precision, she wove the choke so tightly I couldn’t pry it apart—

And then released me.

Black Widow—Natasha Romanoff—softened her expression with a faint smile.

"Alright. That’s the end."

Catching my breath, I nodded.

"…Thank you very much."

Bowing, I rose to my feet.

…My shoulder, knee, and hip joints were dislocated.
When I went for the hold, she must have twisted her body deliberately to neutralize my leverage.
That was how she had escaped, even though I had thought I had locked her completely.

"I’ll call the medical team, so wait a moment—"

I forcefully reset my joints.

A sharp crack, pop rang out—unpleasant, painful—but manageable.

"…Shouldn’t you let a doctor handle things like that?"

"I don’t need it."

Of course, forcing them back in like that would damage the ligaments.
But I had the healing factor.
Minor injuries healed in minutes.

"…Well, fine. In that last training, there was one thing you did clearly wrong. Do you know what it was?"

Training.

I had finally become an official candidate agent for S.H.I.E.L.D., and she was the one teaching me.

Black Widow—Natasha Romanoff.
Exceptional in physical ability, judgment, technique, and stealth… the greatest spy in this nation—no, in the world.

If it came to pure physical ability, I might surpass her.
But in terms of skill alone… she clearly outclassed me.
If I wore a vibranium suit, I’d hold the advantage. But barehanded, I could never beat her.

And it was from her that I was receiving instruction.
On an agent’s mindset, and the skills necessary to survive.

"What I did clearly wrong…"

"Yes. Your fighting style has a fatal flaw."

I touched my chin in thought—

Natasha raised a finger.

"Too much ‘killing intent.’"

"…‘Killing intent’?"

"That’s right. In S.H.I.E.L.D.’s work, sometimes you’ll need to neutralize a target without killing them. You can’t just destroy human bodies recklessly."

I nodded.
It was obvious.

"…I’m sorry."

"I’m not blaming you. Given your background, it’s understandable… but still, you’ll need the skill to disable people without killing them."

I agreed and nodded again.
I would no longer work in a way that killed freely.

As an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., if I was to do the right thing… then as much as possible, I should not kill.

Natasha exhaled lightly.

"Even just now—if you used a move like that on an ordinary person, you’d leave them with permanent damage."

"…Yes."

"Holding back is actually hard. You can’t just half-ass it. You have to go all out, without slacking—while still neutralizing them precisely."

She stepped closer.

Until now, I had studied and practiced only "techniques to kill."
…I was poor at disabling without injury.

A skill I never needed before.
But from now on, the most important one.

"Press down hard on the shoulder here, then twist."

"…Mm."

"Then, use the hard points like the elbow or knee to push in here, and the joint will pop cleanly out—"

With Widow literally guiding my hands and feet, I learned.

Not the skills to kill.
The skills to protect.

---

Under the pouring shower, I let out a long breath.

The heat in my body was cooling away.
I turned the faucet off.

Drops of water ran down my pale skin, dripping to the floor.
I brushed aside my wet platinum-blonde bangs, then took the towel hanging on the partition behind me—set a little above chest height—and dried my hair.

This was the women’s shower room attached to the Avengers Tower training facility.
Luckily, no one else was here.
…Not that I was antisocial, but bumping into someone in a place like this would feel awkward.

I toweled off my body and stepped out of the shower.
I tossed the towel into the shared laundry basket and opened the locker where I’d left my clothes.

I slipped on folded underwear, pulled on a shirt and shorts.
I put on slightly long socks, then switched from slippers to shoes.

Using the provided hair dryer, I dried my hair while looking at myself in the mirror.
…Then I pulled out a makeup pouch.

If someone had told me a year ago that I’d start feeling anxious whenever I showed my bare face, I would never have believed it.

Back then, I still had only a half-formed recognition of my gender.

Now… well… what am I?
A woman, I think.
Probably.

Leaving the locker room, I walked down the corridor.

…I felt a bit thirsty.
I’d rehydrated, but it wasn’t enough.
I craved sugar too.

I’d head to the cafeteria in Avengers Tower and get something.
It was a little early for lunch, but I had no more training or therapy today anyway.

As I walked the hall, I passed someone in a S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform.
I gave a small bow, and they returned it.

…They didn’t know that I had once killed more than a few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents as a villain.
That was thanks to Nick Fury’s gag order.

I understood the reasoning—that things would go more smoothly if people didn’t know.

Still, I felt like I was deceiving them.
No, I was deceiving them.
And I couldn’t help but feel guilty about it.

After passing by, I continued toward the cafeteria.

Away from the training levels, the crowds thickened, growing more miscellaneous.

Crossing past a glass-walled room—

"Hey, got a minute?"

Someone stopped me.
I turned—and was shocked enough to think my heart might stop.

"I’m looking for Nick Fury. Do you know where he is?"

The one who asked was a black-haired woman in a casual black tank top and jeans.

X-23, Laura Kinney, was standing there.

I felt a rush of nervous tension, but shook my head.

"…He’s on a business trip. He won’t be back for a while."

"Ah… I see."

Raising both hands in mock exasperation, she made a face that said ‘figures.’

Laura Kinney.
A girl I had fought to the death—not once, but three times.
A clone of the mutant known as Wolverine, with a healing factor far surpassing mine and adamantium claws.

And more than that—

"So, who are you? And why are you in casual clothes?"

I had killed her mother.
I was her mother’s murderer.

My mouth went dry.

"I’m—"

I hesitated.
Should I tell her here and now?
…Closing my eyes for a moment, I opened them again.

"Michelle Jane Watson. Agent trainee."

I flinched as I said it.
When really, I deserved to be insulted to my face.

But Laura didn’t look suspicious at all when she replied.

"I’m Laura Kinney. Just call me Laura."

Her outstretched hand caught mine, which had been hovering awkwardly.

"…Then call me Michelle."

"Nice to meet you, Michelle."

"Nice to meet you too, Laura."

This wasn’t the time for casual introductions.
If I didn’t say it here, it would be nothing but deception.

"Hm? Michelle? That name sounds familiar…"

Say it.
I had to say it.
If I didn’t—

"Laura. I’m—"

I opened my mouth—

"Ah, there you are, both of you!"

A voice called from another direction.
I turned, and saw a woman with blonde hair held by a black headband running toward us.

"‘Gwen…’"

Both Laura and I said it at once.
Our voices overlapped, and our eyes met.
Laura, perhaps recognizing something in my face, gave me a cautious look—

"What a coincidence, Laura. You already knew Michelle?"

With Gwen’s bright, energetic manner, the words I’d been about to say stuck in my throat.

"Nope. We just met right now."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I didn’t even know she was your friend."

"What? I told you before, remember?"

Not following the conversation, I listened more closely.

"Oh—so this is your best friend?"

"That’s right. I showed you her photo before, didn’t I?"

"…Did you?"

Apparently I’d been introduced behind my back.
Not that I minded… but still.

Laura leaned in, studying my face curiously.
…I almost stepped back.

Seeing this, Laura laughed in amusement.

"Like a little animal."

…A little animal?
No—I was already a proper woman.

"That’s not true."

There was no reason for me to be compared to some small creature.
When I protested, Gwen’s lips curved into a smile.

"She’s got you pegged, Laura."

"She’s right, though. More like… a childish vibe?"

Gwen and Laura spoke freely at my expense.

"I’m not childish."

When I denied it, Laura gave a wry smile.

Why would she smile like that?

Gwen looked at me with a fond expression… then cast a glance at Laura.

"So, what’s the plan for today?"

"Plan? Ah—well, that’s…"

Laura curled her lips into a blatant grin.

"I came here to beat the crap out of Redcap."

…Ah. Apparently, she came here to beat me up.
A little cold sweat ran down my back.

Even Gwen, looking somewhat troubled, kept sneaking glances at me.

---

The Avengers Tower cafeteria could be used free of charge by all S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel, including trainee agents.

On top of that, the food was good.

A nice perk of the job.

Since it was a buffet, I had grabbed whatever I wanted—

"Michelle, you need to eat your vegetables too."

"……"

A salad full of colorful vegetables was placed on my tray.
Gwen had taken it upon herself to fetch some and set it in front of me.

I instinctively scrunched my face.

I didn’t say it was a nuisance.
It was an act born of her concern, so… I jabbed my fork into a bell pepper and took a bite.

Ugh.

Seeing me like that, Laura laughed.

"Hehe, if you keep being picky, you’ll never grow taller, you know?"

"You’re one to talk, Laura, always eating nothing but meat."

"I’m fine the way I am."

How unreasonable.
It was true, though—Laura was tall.
Taller than me, with a good figure to boot.

With a furrowed brow, I shoved some broccoli into my mouth.

Laura wasn’t technically a S.H.I.E.L.D. member, but she’d applied for and received a guest card.
That meant she was treated as an official guest, with full access to the cafeteria.

In one corner of the cafeteria, the three of us sat around a small white round table.
Me, Gwen, and Laura.

My stomach ached a little.
Not from the vegetables, but from nerves.

Gwen cast me a quick glance… then turned back to Laura.

"Laura, about what you said earlier…"

"Earlier?"

"You know… about, um, hitting Redcap."

"Oh, that?"

Laura stabbed her fork into her steak with gusto.

"You know my dad was part of the Avengers for a while, right?"

"That’s news to me."

Gwen tilted her head.

Her dad… or rather, the one she inherited her genes from—Wolverine.
He should still be with the mutant team, the X-Men… so he must’ve still had contact with Fury.

"Well, thanks to that, I’ve got ties to S.H.I.E.L.D. too. That’s how I heard Redcap had surrendered… Oh, Gwen, by the way, that’s classified. So keep it secret, okay?"

"…Haha."

Gwen gave a strained smile and cast another glance at me.
…Meanwhile, I was doing my best to maintain a perfect poker face.

"Actually, Gwen, do you even know who ‘Redcap’ is?"

"…Yeah, sort of. I’ve even met her."

Not a lie.
I was meeting her right now, after all.

"Really? Did you see her face?"

"…Yeah."

"What was she like?"

Again, Gwen glanced at me.
Not with accusation, but with a troubled, uncertain expression, as if she didn’t know what to do.

She couldn’t out my identity… that much was clear.
If it was going to be said, it had to come from me.

But I kept missing the timing—kept letting it slip away—and I was stuck just like her.

Gwen, watching me remain silent, forced a stiff smile and spoke.

"Um… well, she was pretty normal."

"Normal?"

"Yeah… just an ordinary girl, like anyone else."

"Hmm…"

Laura nodded, not entirely convinced. Then she glanced my way.

"What about you, Michelle?"

"Huh?"

"Do you know Redcap?"

……Of course I do.
Better than anyone.

"…Yeah."

I gave a small nod.
From the corner of my eye, Gwen fidgeted in panic.

"An acquaintance?"

"…Something like that."

Now.
I had to say it now.
That I was Redcap.
That I was the one who killed her mother.

"Laura…"

"What is it?"

With an easygoing look, Laura lifted her glass of water for a sip.

"I’m that… ‘Redcap’."

"Eh, geh—cough, cough, ha!?"

Laura choked and broke into a fit of coughing.
Gwen and I hurriedly reached over to pat her back.

Her outburst had been pretty loud, but there was no one else around.
We had deliberately sat deep in the cafeteria, and since it was already past noon, the peak crowd had passed.

Exhaling deeply, Laura looked at me with a confused expression.

It wasn’t anger on her face—just confusion.

"Uh, ah—huh? Wait, what? That’s a really bad joke, right?"

Laura turned her eyes to Gwen, as if asking for help.
But Gwen shook her head, signaling it was the truth.

"…Laura, I’m sorry I took so long to tell you."

"…Wait, so you’re serious about this?"

I apologized, but she still seemed unable to process it. Folding her arms, she muttered under her breath, then turned her gaze back to me.

"…So, um, does this count as a reunion?"

"…Since Madripoor."

"R-right, yeah… wait—"

Laura shook her head sharply.

"You’re completely different from the one I knew…!?"

…Ah, of course.
When I wore the mask, I was in work mode.
My tone, my attitude—everything shifted to make the job easier.

No wonder she couldn’t connect the dots.

"I… might come off a little intimidating when I’m working."

"A little? More like a lot."

Laura gave Gwen a sidelong glance.
Gwen nodded in agreement.

"Still, I’m Redcap. The one who—"

My lips trembled as I forced the words out.

"The one who killed your mother, Dr. Kinney… was me."

Silence engulfed the table.

Gwen, who hadn’t known about our connection, looked at Laura in shock… then looked at me with a worried expression.

Laura furrowed her brow slightly, then nodded.

"So it was you."

"…Yeah."

I clenched the hem of my clothes.
I swore I wouldn’t run from my sins.
Keeping quiet wasn’t an option.

"…Stand up."

Prompted by Laura, I rose to my feet.
She stood too, facing me.

"Wait, Laura—"

"Sorry, Gwen. But this is one thing I can’t compromise on."

Gwen looked at me anxiously.
I gave her a nod, telling her it was fine.

"I’m going to hit you now."

"…As much as you need."

Gwen opened her mouth to stop us—
Laura raised her hand—

Smack.

She tapped my cheek lightly.

……Huh?

"Okay, done. We’re even now."

"Uh, Laura? But you said you were going to—"

"I did hit you. On the face."

"N-no, that’s not…"

That couldn’t be right.
I killed her mother, and yet—

Laura pulled out her chair, sat down, and spoke.

"I never really hated you that much to begin with."

"…Why not?"

"Remember Madripoor? I could tell—you, Redcap, you were a victim too."

"…But still—"

"Lunch is going to get cold. So why don’t you sit?"

At her words, I reluctantly sat back down.

"If you’d been cocky about it, I would’ve gone all out and decked you. But with a face like that…"

"…Face?"

I touched my face with my hand, not really understanding.

"I’m not so violent that I could hit someone who’s blaming herself—someone looking that apologetic."

"…I see. Sorry."

"It’s fine. Honestly, the reason I came here was because I wanted to talk with the person who was Redcap."

At those words, I lowered my gaze.

Laura Kinney had chosen not revenge, but her own sense of goodness.
That kind of resolve couldn’t come from half-hearted restraint.

She might fight with the ferocity of her father, Wolverine… but she also had incredible mental strength.

I couldn’t compare.
That’s what I thought.

Then, Gwen—who had been silent this whole time—finally spoke up.

"Seriously, you two… don’t scare me like that."

"Hm… sorry."

"Eh? Don’t worry about it, everything worked out fine."

Laura’s offhanded reply made Gwen snap.

"That’s not the point! You were super scary just now, so stop pulling stuff like that!"

Gwen must have been on edge the whole time.
Now that she could finally breathe easy, all the pent-up protests came spilling out.

She chattered away, flustered.
Laura brushed it off like a passing breeze.

Watching the two of them bicker, I couldn’t help but smile.

---

A little later.

After finishing our meal, we were chatting over post-lunch coffee when—

"Oi, Laura. Time to head back."

A voice came from behind me.
I turned to look—

"Ah."

He wasn’t particularly tall, but he felt big.

Height-wise, just a bit taller than me.
But his body was packed with muscle, giving him a presence that seemed several times larger.

A stern face, thick facial hair.
His black beard, grown out carelessly, connected straight into his sideburns—making him look all the hairier.

He wore a brown coat trimmed with fur.

"Ah—sorry, you two. I’ll be heading out."

Laura downed the rest of her coffee in one gulp and stood.

The man behind me raised an eyebrow, giving Gwen and me a quick once-over.

"Are you two friends of Laura’s?"

Gwen nodded… and I nodded too, somewhat hesitantly.
“Friends” might have been too much to call myself, but still.

Seeing our reactions, the man’s expression softened.

"I see. Thank you for looking out for her. She doesn’t have many friends, so I worry about her—"

"Okay, okay! That’s enough!"

Laura pushed against his back, trying to drag him away from the table.

"What? Talking for a bit is fine, isn’t it?"

"I said stop, it’s embarrassing!"

She might’ve been college-age, but she clearly hated being fussed over like this.
…Not that I could relate. I’d never had a guardian who cared that much.

Still, the man standing before us—
I had a pretty good idea who he was. But no proof.

Best to pretend I hadn’t noticed.
Yes, that was best.

"Well then, you two. See you again."

"Yeah, see you."

"Mm, see you…"

I waved, and Laura waved back.

At the very least, she didn’t seem to hate me.
That alone was… both a relief and a burden on my conscience.

Not “goodbye,” but “see you.”
If we really did meet again… I knew I’d be glad.

"Hey, Michelle. Do you think that was Laura’s dad just now?"

"Probably."

I stirred my now-cold coffee with the muddler, the sugar having settled at the bottom.
I stared into the swirling liquid.

And I regretted it.

Regretted not asking for more sugar and milk.