Marvel-11: World Inside Out

She woke up to the rush of fresh air that poured into the room. She hadn't even realized how much she had missed something like that. The heavy, stuffy air in the poorly ventilated room had been pressing on her like a hydraulic press. It was highly likely that it was because of this that she had nightmares all night.

The girl shifted in bed and turned onto her back. The blanket slid off her bare body completely, and she shivered slightly from the coolness that flowed into the room through the slightly open window. Autumn had definitely begun to take hold, and although the air warmed up noticeably during the day, in the evening and morning, it was already time to wear something warmer.

He was standing by the window. Just as naked and deep in thought, he was looking through the dirty glass. She shuddered again, goosebumps rising on her pale skin, and the girl quickly pulled the blanket up to her chin.

"Are you still shy about me?" he asked without turning his head, a slight irony in his voice. "After everything that's happened between us?"

She glanced at his well-toned backside and the clearly defined muscles on his back. Two months ago, they hadn't been there, but he had been working out every day like a man possessed. Such incredible determination. She had never been able to make herself go to the gym more than once a week.

And why would she? After all, nature had been quite generous when it came to her. Of course, she wasn't up to European beauty standards, but for someone of Asian descent, she was in pretty good shape and definitely curvy!

"I'm afraid that if you see me naked, we won't leave the room until noon. You're a monster, you know."

"Something like that has been said to me before," he chuckled.

A cold shiver ran through her. Could it be... no, that was simply impossible.

"Really?" she asked cautiously.

"Hmm," he turned to her and adjusted the light fringe that had fallen over his eyes, pulling it out of his chestnut hair. "I can't remember. Doesn't matter."

"Alright," she smiled sweetly, and her anxiety eased slightly. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine, no more attacks, if that's what you're asking. Thanks."

"Uh, maybe you could get dressed now?" she asked, giving a pointed look below his waist.

"Well, if I embarrass you this much," he scoffed, and as he pulled on his underwear, he continued, "By the way, what's your real name?"

"We've talked about this already," she frowned.

"No names," he made air quotes. "I remember, I remember, but calling you Blind Spot is a bit too complicated."

"What can I do? Rascal, I have a poor imagination when it comes to coming up with nicknames. And, by the way, could you turn around? I need to get dressed."

"You're so fragile. With that approach, you'll never win a man's heart."

Despite his words, he turned back to the window. Blind Spot got out of bed and struggled to find her panties and bra among the scattered clothes from last night. Luckily, they had taken a shower and changed the sheets before going to sleep.

She liked feeling full when he came inside, but waking up to find herself stuck to a wet sheet was quite unpleasant.

"Why do I need your heart? One member is enough."

"Rough, rough. I'm defeated," he smiled, making her shiver again. "But I'm not talking about myself, I'm worried about you."

How did he manage that? He was supposed to resemble a predator in a cage, yet even with the thick bars, he still managed to scare her half to death.

"Let's go already, I'm hungry," Blind Spot said, barely keeping her composure.

When they came down from the second floor, they discovered they had missed breakfast and were now waiting for lunch. In the kitchen, they found only the Toad, who was lazily sipping beer while watching a basketball game on a small TV sitting atop the fridge.

The relationship between the girl with the long tongue and Rascal had never been good from the start. Blind Spot had no idea what they hadn't gotten along about—well, she knew, but it didn't make any sense! It shouldn't have!

Hmm... Whenever the opportunity arose, the Toad tried to hurt the guy's feelings. She didn't succeed too well, because his retorts were much sharper, if not longer. In terms of wit, Rascal was clearly winning.

Recently, their active conflict had ended, and they had started ignoring each other. Honestly, Blind Spot couldn't be happier about it. Of course, the other girls in the Sisterhood urged the Toad not to mess with Rascal, worrying about the guy's delicate soul, but Blind Spot was the one who had the best sense of his true nature. Of all people, he didn't need pity. For a guy, he was unusually resilient.

"Do you know who drinks beer first thing in the morning?" Rascal asked.

"Go fuck yourself," the Toad lazily tossed back, leaving the kitchen with a can of beer in hand.

"Why do you have to be like that?" Blind Spot asked reproachfully. "You haven't fought in three days, I thought you'd make up."

Rascal pulled the leftovers of the morning lasagna from the fridge, dividing it between two plates and putting them in the microwave.

"So, how should I call you?" he ignored her question and asked. "If you don't want to use your real name, let's come up with a nickname. How about Li? I... I like that name."

"N-no," Blind Spot almost dropped her glass of apple juice. "T-that name doesn't suit me anymore."

He had managed to get her worked up again. How did he do that? He wasn't supposed to—he couldn't have said something like that. What made him recall that name? No, it was just her mind playing horrible tricks. After all, he couldn't remember anything!

"Okay," he said easily, retreating. "How about... no, that's not it... Wait, I know! Ino! From now on, I'll call you that. It suits you perfectly, even though you're not blonde, but those are just details. You two are very similar in the important ways!"

"Ino?" She didn't remember anyone named Ino. The name didn't trigger any associations. Did this mean he just pulled it out of thin air? "Fine, call me whatever you want."

Breakfast passed in silence, with only the sound of utensils clinking. He finished his portion first and, leaving her in the kitchen, went to brush his teeth. Mystic appeared in the doorway.

"Morning. Have you seen Rascal?" she asked.

"He just went back to his room. Why?"

"The boss wants to see him, there's a little job coming up. Hmm, it's good that I caught you alone. What do you think, is he stable?"

"As stable as possible," Blind Spot answered vaguely, but the answer seemed to satisfy the blue-skinned girl with yellow eyes. She seemed to be in a good mood today.

The dark-haired Asian girl shivered. She couldn't quite pin her feelings to the situation, since everything was within the normal range.

But her sixth sense was overwhelmed with conflicting, cautious impulses.