Not Another Superhero

Aaryas' palms rushed to his ears as the humongous bus rammed into the jewelry store. It seemed as if diamonds rained from the sky, metal pieces, glass shards, and gold crumbs reflecting sunlight in myriad angles as they flew and fell, skittering across the street. Aarya and Maya looked at each other for a brief second, their postures straightening, and that was all they needed. He clumsily attempted to place the comic he was holding back into its rack and Maya simply dropped the bottle of what he assumed was some botanical chemical.

They dashed out the multipurpose store, Aarya wincing as he adjusted his glasses to view the scene clearly. He was fazed. His lips slightly apart he stared at the bus, his mind blocking out the muffled screams of the passengers. Time seemed to slow as he digested the accident. Passerbys walked in meandering paths to avoid the shards, slowly crowding around the scene. 

Maya was quick to act. She pushed past the throng of people that had now formed a clumsy semicircle. She shut her almond eyes and lifted her arms, concentrating like never before. Her lush brown locks raised in every direction around her scalp, her pink lips muttering mantras of sorts. The trees that lined the streets twisted and bent at her will, their branches like ripped arms encircled the store's doorframe, peeling them open. Looking at Maya, Aarya came to his senses and ran to her aid. He gritted his teeth, crossed his noticeably long fingers, and directed both his palms towards the back of the bus, tearing its rear enclosure apart.

With one swift rotation of his wrists, the gravel, metal, and glass obeyingly formed three neat steps leading to the vehicle's rear end. He hastily climbed up the makeshift stairs into the bus but wasn't prepared for what he saw. A woman was cradling her husband's bleeding head in her arms, too shocked to weep or cry. A boy who probably came up to Aarya's waist was crying loudly, his ankle crushed under a pole. A group of girls, friends, Aarya thought, were frantically looking for who, he didn't know. He adjusted his specs that were riding down the bridge of his nose, wincing, thinking where to act first.

His crossed fingers moved in smooth motions as the pole slowly lifted off the boy's ankle, its chipping yellow paint stained red and brown. With a sweep of his palm, all shards of glass cleared the way for him and another gentleman to carry the woman's husband out the bus. The sight of the man's limp, bloody head made Aarya feel queasy. As the gentleman carried the husband's rangy frame away after assuring Aarya he would take care of him, Aarya felt a void appear in the depths of his stomach. He could sense death in the air, and the fact that truly anything can happen anytime hit him like never before, now that he was witnessing himself, the man's skinny arms limply dangling from the gentleman's firm hold.

Meanwhile, roots shot up from the road to the surface, braiding and knotting together to form a semicircular fence around the scene. There were now a hundred or so spectators, and Maya had to reinforce her fence every now and then. Shrubs and climbers with their tender leaves and tendrils tended to the store's injured customers and employees that needed the most attention. The store workers that weren't injured ran in all directions, making available all possible supplies from every level in the building. One of them looked skeptically at a branch that lent itself out as if asking the man for the many first aid kits he held. He simply stared at it, hesitating to trust a mere branch with life-saving deeds. The branch now moved towards him more aggressively, and the worker submittingly handed over the kits, throwing his hands in the air after, slightly intimidated.

Women wept, children screamed, and life slipped out of men's eyes, gifting them soulless stares as they left. There were no casualties, but the image of the husband never left Aarya's mind one moment. He felt sick and guilty, for what he couldn't point a finger at. After what felt like hours, the bus was empty and clear. Multiple sirens wailed from various angles and distances, their sounds overlapping, weaving into a song of chaos. He looked at Maya, her lips moving fast and lashes beating ferociously, sweat trickling down her temple. He walked up to her and placed his palm on her shoulder. The branches, leaves, and twigs fell lifelessly to the ground. 

"It's okay, you can rest, Maya. Our job here is done."

Maya looked around, scanning the scene that spilled sorrow and blood. She sighed deeply, nodded, and walked with Aarya to the police. They have questions to answer.

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The scene collapsed as quickly as it appeared, and it took Aarya a second to come back to where he really was. Broken bus, a shower of diamonds, and him standing behind yellow barricades with a hundred other people, dully spectating the accident and the men clad in bright orange vests. Maya stood a couple of people away, pulling her coat closer to herself over and over again. Her eyes, those almond eyes, they were squinted with sheer worry and fright, like many other eyes in the crowd. Aarya's slender fingers pushed up his specs, wincing, feeling as if his fantasy fired him up with love and courage in magnitudes he never knew were possible. Amidst his racing mind, racing with worry and love and courage, a small part of him felt ever so guilty to have thought this way in this godawful circumstance.

He was, after all just another bespectacled boy with just another crush, just another comic reader who visited just another multipurpose store weekly and felt ever so ecstatically about just another girl.

She was, after all just another almond-eyed girl with just another heart that was oh so soft, just another botanist who visited just another multipurpose store weekly and loved botany ever so passionately like nothing she's ever loved.

It could stay that way if he let it.

He didn't.

The sky was now dark, with grey clouds strewn across the navy blue canvas as if thrown recklessly by a child after playing with them. It drizzled ever so slightly that you could feel it, but couldn't see it. Aarya didn't think twice before he walked up to her, eyes searching for anything but hers to look at, his index pushing up his evidently oversized specs, his left cheek twitching.

"Maya, I really like you."

It sounded nothing like he intended it to, nothing like the thousand times he said it in his head.

Aarya wasn't just another boy. He was a superhero that had the power to confess, to love, and to be loved. After all, his favorite superhero was without a doubt, 'Maya: Mistress of Love'.