Wanda and Pietro sat in their rented car across from a high school in Brooklyn. Students bustled back and forth, engrossed in their daily routines. Pietro, with his superhuman speed and impatient nature, was visibly bored. He leaned back in his seat, drumming his fingers against the window, and finally couldn't hold it in:
"What are we waiting for, Wanda?" he asked, glancing at his sister.
"Look here," she said, pointing to the glove compartment, where a papier-mâché cross with a skull inside rested. "It will lead us to the right person."
Pietro raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes glinting with skepticism.
"And how exactly is this lifeless piece of paper supposed to lead us anywhere?"
Wanda smirked slightly, her gaze remaining focused.
"Symbols hold immense power. The cross and skull represent faith and death—they constantly surround him. That's the symbol of the person we're looking for." Her voice grew inspired. "I haven't seen him yet, but I'm sure he's the perfect match for a mutant witch."
"And you're planning to marry this dark prince just because some piece of paper says so?" Pietro arched a doubtful brow.
"I'm not planning to get married today. I just want to see him." Wanda rolled her eyes. "And it's not the paper pointing the way—it's the thread of fate. This person is the closest to me in spirit in the entire universe."
"I thought I was the closest to you," Pietro muttered, sounding hurt.
Wanda recalled her room filled with books and Pietro's room packed with anime DVDs and video games. She said nothing in response.
"I'm going to die of boredom if I don't eat something right now," Pietro sighed, his impatience growing. "Want me to grab you something? I can have it in a second."
Knowing her brother's love for fast food, Wanda thought for a moment and named a European dish:
"I wouldn't mind an almond croissant."
Pietro smirked, his cocky grin lighting up his face.
"This is New York. They've got everything here."
In an instant, he disappeared, leaving behind only a faint gust of wind, and returned just as quickly. The car was now stuffed with boxes of fast food, and Wanda held a neatly packaged croissant in her hand.
"Don't even think about touching my fries," Pietro said matter-of-factly, tossing a handful into his mouth. "I'm on a strict diet."
"Now the car is going to reek of fast food," Wanda said with a frown, her delicate brows drawing together. "The rental company won't take it back like this."
Pietro shrugged, his carefree attitude almost palpable.
"That's the price of having me as your partner."
Wanda took a slow bite of her croissant, savoring its flavor, and retorted:
"I didn't invite you to come with me."
Pietro waved her off, his silvery hair slightly tousled.
"I'm your older brother. It's my duty to look after my little sister."
"You're older by all of 12 seconds," Wanda said, rolling her eyes, her patience wearing thin. "You don't even believe in magic. Why did you really tag along?"
Pietro hesitated but then admitted:
"Sitting in this car is still more fun than classes at Xavier's school. Dad will give me grief for skipping, but if I skip with you, the punishment will be lighter."
Wanda shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"Sometimes I think I'm the older sibling between the two of us."
"Hey! I won that race Mom set up for us fair and square!"
"You started running before you were even born," she teased, smiling.
Wanda often struggled to connect with her peers, finding their carefree attitudes tiresome. But her brother was the one exception. His humor more often brought a smile than annoyance.
Some time passed, and the origami cross began to move. Wanda perked up, her eyes alight with interest. She grabbed her binoculars and directed them toward the school.
In her view appeared a sturdy, athletic guy with a confident posture. Walking beside him was an attractive blonde cheerleader, her smile as radiant as sunlight. The guy looked like the perfect high school king straight out of a teen movie—smart, athletic, charismatic, seemingly untouchable.
Wanda froze, her heartbeat quickening.
"It can't be…" she whispered.
Pietro, noticing her reaction, grabbed the binoculars and focused on the guy. His uniform bore JROTC insignias.
"You've always had a thing for military types," he teased. "The kind that looks like they stepped off a recruitment poster."
Wanda ignored the jab. Her heartbeat drowned out all other sounds as she continued to study "Mr. Perfect," feeling a strange sense of wrongness.
"Something's not right here. This guy is supposed to be my soulmate, love at first sight—not this…"
"Remember when you used to write love letters to Captain America and send them to the address on the cereal box?" Pietro grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "If Jean finds out about that, the school gossip mill will explode!"
The burning shame snapped Wanda back to reality, her face flushing bright red. She glared at him and threatened:
"Shut up, or I'll turn you into a toad, and you'll spend the rest of your days eating swamp flies!"
Pietro clasped his hands in mock pleading.
"Oh, spare me, wicked and powerful sister! I'll be good!" he exclaimed theatrically before switching to a more serious tone. "Fine, fine, let's dig into your guy a bit more. They say appearances can be deceiving."
Wanda snatched the binoculars back and resumed watching her target. Hours passed. Pietro made several trips scouting around, even digging into the school archives. Her dream guy only became more unbearable: he was an honor student, training to become a military doctor, captain of the school boxing team, mentoring rookies during practice, awarded medals for JROTC leadership, chairman of the disciplinary committee, adored by teachers, and a proud graduate of the scouts with flying colors.
"Good grief, what a bore," Wanda muttered, her irritation evident.
"Yeah, dull as a rock," Pietro agreed, munching on another burger.
"There's been a mistake," Wanda said in frustration, glancing at the paper cross, which stubbornly pointed to the golden boy.
The sun began to set, painting the sky in warm hues as the shadows grew longer. Wanda continued watching her target even as darkness crept in. She felt compelled to stay, to give him a chance. The guy finally emerged from the school.
"Come on, no one's watching. At least toss a wrapper outside the trash can," she said wistfully, adjusting the binoculars.
Pietro, lazily chewing on a fry, quipped, "I bet he's heading off to feed kittens at a shelter."
Wanda didn't respond, only furrowing her brows. The boy walked down the darkened street, seemingly unbothered by the city's dangers. Then, he turned into an alley where a group of school bullies was beating up another kid.
"Oh, here we go," Wanda muttered hopelessly. "He's going to lecture them and threaten to call their parents."
The guy approached the bullies, his voice calm but cold:
"The rules of the disciplinary committee apply outside school too."
The bullies turned pale, as if they knew something, and then started apologizing, promising never to do it again. The guy smiled, but it was far from friendly.
"Good. I forgive you," he said, pulling on a hockey mask. "But sins must be punished."
He pulled firecracker out of his sports bag and threw them directly into the bullies' faces. They screamed but didn't have time to run—the guy was already holding a metal chain and began beating them mercilessly.
"Wow…" Wanda exhaled, watching through the binoculars. Her heart raced. "That's magnificent."
The sound of breaking bones echoed through the dark streets. Drops of blood splattered the dirty walls.
"This guy is a psychopath, Wanda," Pietro said, turning away, his face twisted in disgust. "He's beating them… I don't even know why! This isn't justice—it's cruelty!"
"I knew the golden boy was just a mask imposed by everyone around him," she said, breathlessly. "And beneath the mask is thorny darkness. Just like me."
"You're nothing like that, Wanda!" Pietro raised his voice. "You've got quirks and a complicated personality, sure, but you're not evil! And him…" He glanced back at the beating but quickly looked away. "I take it back. He's not a dark prince; he's a black berserker."
Wanda didn't respond. Pietro, her father, and everyone else around her didn't understand that she was the witch of horrors and the queen of madness—her enemies saw that side of her. For her loved ones, Wanda showed only fragments of her humanity.
"Pietro, what do you think," she asked, her gaze fixed on the binoculars as she bit her lip, "has he ever… you know…"
"What?! Why the hell are you asking me that?"
"Well, it would be romantic and even fair if we gave each other our virginity," she said with a slight blush.
"You can't!" Pietro protested, nearly choking on his fries. "You shouldn't give yourself to the first guy you meet!"
"He's not just anyone," Wanda looked him straight in the eye, her gaze serious and intense. "I want to experience it with someone who's connected to me deeper than anyone else."
"You need to find someone normal!"
"Normal for me is darkness."
"That's not right!" Pietro nervously scratched his head. "Using cards and a cauldron to find a boyfriend is insane!"
"If you're about to lecture me, get out of the car," Wanda said, turning back to her binoculars. "I thought you were on my side."