ENTER: An absurdly well-built blonde man sitting in a well-padded chair and dressed in an immaculate, double-breasted suit. Despite his rather natural-looking smile, it is clear that he is unused to the blinding lights of the stage and the undivided attention of the studio audience. This is BOBBY SAMSON, better known as SUNLIGHT MAN. There is a slight, wide-mouthed TELEVISION HOST interviewing him from behind his immense desk. The interview is coming to a close.
TELEVISION HOST: - personal gratitude to Sunlight Man for saving California. I believe I speak for both myself and the audience when I say that we will watch your career with great interest.
Turning to the cameras, he raises his voice as both he and BOBBY rise to their feet.
TELEVISION HOST: Ladies and gentlemen, your hero and mine, Sunlight Man!
As the studio audience cheers, he shakes BOBBY's hand firmly.
CUT TO: BOBBY waving and smiling to a crowd outside the studio before ducking into a limousine chartered specifically to fetch him back to his hotel. A heavily-pregnant Asian woman is waiting inside, a pair of spectacles perched on the bridge of her nose. This is MINNIE KIM, who occasionally goes by SPARK. They kiss each other as BOBBY settles into his seat. Eventually, they come up for air.
BOBBY: How are you feeling?
MINNIE: I should be asking you that. You're the one who's had to suffer through a dozen crash courses on media training.
BOBBY: You're the one who insisted on coming.
MINNIE: I've recovered completely.
BOBBY: Still.
MINNIE, mimicking him: Still.
BOBBY sighs fondly. MINNIE cuddles up against him as they drift through the streets of New York.
BOBBY: Hifumi and Kaylee should have been here.
MINNIE: People don't need to be reminded that you got a last-minute assist.
BOBBY: It was more than a last-minute assist and you know that.
MINNIE: Forgive me if I don't want to hear about how my husband could have died for the umpteenth time.
The words come out harsher than they ought to have; BOBBY falls silent. The vehicle purrs into a hotel garage, and then into an even more secluded corner of the carpark. A handful of staff from BOBBY's agency are waiting for them. Their argument takes a backseat as BOBBY attends to business, with MINNIE sifting through the documents that his secretary has compiled for her perusal. They take a less punishing pace out of respect for her delicate condition, but nevertheless reach their suite in due course. Once his staff have filed out, BOBBY removes his jacket and runs a hand through his artfully-styled hair. He glances over his shoulder at MINNIE, who's reclining on the bed, one hand tossed carelessly over the shelf of her belly as she channel-surfs.
BOBBY: Sorry.
MINNIE, not looking at him: It's fine. It's just that the optics aren't good. You know?
BOBBY: I do. I just don't like it.
MINNIE shrugs. He can feel her softening.
MINNIE: That's why I'm your wife.
BOBBY: You could have stayed in Houston. You're due in less than a week.
MINNIE: And passed up the chance to visit New York? Fat chance.
BOBBY flips a switch on the wall. The windows darken. Rising, he crosses the floor to the wardrobe and begins to strip; unbuttoning his shirt, removing his belt, pulling his pants down. He can feel MINNIE's eyes on his broad back as he reaches for a hanger.
BOBBY: What, pray tell, were you planning to visit in New York specifically?
MINNIE, stammering: Well, lots of things. The Met. Um, Madison Square Garden. Hailey's got a house here.
BOBBY: She has houses everywhere. Did you meet her?
MINNIE doesn't respond. BOBBY grins and turns. MINNIE flushes at the sight of his bare chest. He ascends the bed clad in nothing but his boxers and turns to face the TV.
BOBBY: You don't need to keep going into the bathroom to change, you know.
MINNIE: We've had this conversation before.
She's still wearing her maternity dress. BOBBY loops one long arm around her shoulders; MINNIE shifts subtly to press herself against him.
BOBBY: You look great.
MINNIE: Oh, stop it.
BOBBY: What? It's true.
MINNIE: I'm a cow. I haven't seen my feet in literal months.
BOBBY: You've never looked more beautiful.
MINNIE: Now you're just saying things.
BOBBY: I'm serious. Want me to show you how serious I am?
MINNIE looks at BOBBY. She bites her lip.
MINNIE: You could break my water.
BOBBY: Do you really care about that?
MINNIE: It would mess up my birth plan. You know how long I've been writing that one up.
BOBBY: Come on. We haven't done it since Umbra, and that was a month ago.
MINNIE, giggling: You're like a high-schooler.
BOBBY: Stop stalling.
MINNIE: I've gained a lot of weight.
BOBBY: I can bench-press a car.
MINNIE shivers. BOBBY raises an eyebrow. He knows he has her.
MINNIE: Okay. Fine. Just - I need to pee.
CUT TO: The air-conditioned interior of an office. A scrawny RECEPTIONIST, his spectacles tinted yellow, drags himself upright and collapses into his chair. His COLLEAGUE sniggers.
RECEPTIONIST, wincing: Shut up.
COLLEAGUE: She just stepped on your foot. It's not the end of the world.
RECEPTIONIST: I think she fractured my little toe.
A trio of heroes - AMPHIBIAN, SMOKESCREEN, and RED ICE - sidle into view. The RECEPTIONIST shoots upright, all complaining forgotten. The two men (AMPHIBIAN and SMOKESCREEN) and one woman (RED ICE) are staring into their boss's office. AMPHIBIAN nudges SMOKESCREEN. SMOKESCREEN elbows AMPHIBIAN.
RECEPTIONIST: Er, Amphibian-san. Smokescreen-san. Red Ice-san. Is there anything I can help you with?
AMPHIBIAN: Oh! Yes. Did you see the lady who just stormed into Challenger-sama's office?
RECEPTIONIST: She stepped on my foot.
SMOKESCREEN: Sorry to hear that.
RECEPTIONIST: It's okay. Er, she was pretty short.
The RECEPTIONIST gestures vaguely in a bid to capture her height.
RECEPTIONIST: Big, big eyes. Glasses. Wearing pink. Expensive perfume.
COLLEAGUE: Massively pregnant.
RED ICE: Did you hear her say anything?
RECEPTIONIST: Not really. I was just going to ask her if she had an appointment, but she pushed me over and stepped on my foot.
He pats himself down. He felt as though he was pushed, but she didn't actually touch him. Did she?
COLLEAGUE: You weren't actually going to physically restrain our boss's wife from entering his office, right?
RECEPTIONIST, outraged: Of course not.
His face pales.
RECEPTIONIST, sounding strangled: His wife?
SMOKESCREEN: Yeah. That's his wife. Telekinetic.
RED ICE: Her real quirk is that she's obscenely rich.
AMPHIBIAN: She's why all of Challenger-sama's receptionists are male.
Alongside the three heroes and his colleague (who should really get back to work and stop being a busybody), the RECEPTIONIST stares into the office of HIFUMI TAKEDA, better known as CHALLENGER. He is in the midst of an argument with HAILEY CHANG, who rarely calls herself RECOIL anymore these days. They are gesticulating wildly at each other, but only HAILEY's gestures correlate to the movement of any nearby stationery. Due to the soundproof (but transparent) walls of HIFUMI's office, the onlookers are unable to make out the details of the argument.
RECEPTIONIST: She did seem rather agitated.
RED ICE: She's a bitch.
AMPHIBIAN and SMOKESCREEN cough violently into their fists. The RECEPTIONIST pretends not to have heard anything.
AMPHIBIAN: What do you think it'll be this time?
SMOKESCREEN: Can't be the receptionist thing. He already fixed that.
COLLEAGUE: Maybe he left the toilet seat up.
RED ICE: She's probably just hormonal. Better him than us.
AMPHIBIAN: Were you here when she last terrorized the office?
RECEPTIONIST, stammering: I, ah -
SMOKESCREEN: Don't let him scare you. She's fine, actually. Challenger-sama said she used to be much worse.
COLLEAGUE: Er, you should probably -
The RECEPTIONIST lunges back to his desk and flips a switch on the console before him. The transparent walls of HIFUMI's office darken, shielding the couple from view. Nevertheless, it is a smidge too late; the image has already been burned into the RECEPTIONIST's brain. It involves HAILEY's thighs wrapped around HIFUMI's waist and HIFUMI's hands interlaced behind HAILEY's back.
AMPHIBIAN: Should we have seen that?
RED ICE: Seen what?
SMOKESCREEN: I didn't see anything.
COLLEAGUE: Me neither.
AMPHIBIAN: We'd better go.
The three heroes hand the RECEPTIONIST a few files, each containing various individual pieces of paperwork, and beat a hasty retreat.
CUT TO: The RECEPTIONIST at his desk. The door to HIFUMI's office slides open, and two pairs of footsteps head up to his desk.
HIFUMI: Hello, Akira.
RECEPTIONIST: Takeda-san.
HAILEY narrows her eyes at him. Her hair is a little mussed, and her lips seem a bit redder. HIFUMI, for his part, looks utterly unchanged, with the exception of a light flush.
HAILEY: You let him call you Takeda-san?
HIFUMI: Would you prefer Takeda-sama?
He turns to the RECEPTIONIST.
HIFUMI: Do you have anything for me, Akira?
RECEPTIONIST, handing over a handful of papers: Ah, yes. Amphibian, Smokescreen and Red Ice came by earlier to pass me their reports. I've organized them accordingly.
HIFUMI: Thank you, Akira.
Flipping through the reports, he turns back to his wife.
HIFUMI: Want to grab lunch in the cafeteria?
HAILEY: You know how I feel about the cafeteria.
HIFUMI: I'll see you at home, then. Let's call later. Love you.
HAILEY looks as though she's about to argue, but makes a face and accepts his quick peck on the cheek. HIFUMI and the RECEPTIONIST watch as she disappears out into the corridor.
HIFUMI: Thanks for the assist.
RECEPTIONIST: Anytime, Takeda-san.
HIFUMI, under his breath: You wouldn't believe how helpful telekinesis has been as she gets bigger.
The RECEPTIONIST chokes on his coffee.
CUT TO: A workshop buzzing with activity. Silver-gray drones, their chassis glistening in the sunlight, whizz to and fro. Most of them tote wires, tools and tablets, but one drone in particular has been made responsible for a twelve-container cup-carrier. It skitters past a dozen workshops before arriving at a meeting-room. Breezing through the door, it places the carrier on the table and bows. At the head of the table is FAITH KANG. As her subordinates and business partners retrieve their coffee orders, she leans forward, belly bumping into the table, and strains to reach her smoothie. BRAD, her CFO, passes it to her.
FAITH: Thanks.
BRAD: No worries. Just in time, eh?
FAITH shrugs. The drone retrieves the empty carrier and retreats out into the corridor, shutting the door behind it. FAITH takes a huge gulp from her smoothie, throat working, and presses her other hand to the small of her back, rubbing it gently to alleviate her aching spine. ROBERT, a lawyer from the company which she's trying to hammer out a deal with, clears his throat.
ROBERT: Ms Kang, perhaps you'd like to sit -
FAITH: It's fine, Robert. I think faster on my feet, anyway.
She sets her smoothie down.
FAITH: Anyway, um, does anyone have any further questions?
CUT TO: FAITH, hands on her hips as she stares up at a towering pile of metallic cubes. After the last of her drones folds itself out of existence, she heaves a sigh and pivots on her heel. Her subordinates still have a handful of tasks to complete, but her day is over, and not a moment too soon: she's famished. A few people shout out goodbyes as she waddles toward the exit, and FAITH takes care to respond to each of them before she steps out into the sunlight. There's a car idling a little to the left; her smile widens at the sight. Waiting inside is CHRIS CAIN, better known as MIRROR DEVIL.
FAITH: Happy anniversary.
CHRIS: Happy anniversary. I know your dietary options are limited this year, so -
FAITH cuts him off with a kiss. CHRIS holds it for a few seconds before he's forced to refocus on the road.
FAITH: I trust you.
CHRIS: Tibetan?
FAITH: Won't be the weirdest meal we've shared.
CHRIS: Just tell me if your insides ever feel weird at any point during lunch.
FAITH: My insides always feel weird nowadays.
She gasps.
FAITH: I felt a kick!
CHRIS: I'm driving.
FAITH: You can multitask.
She pulls his right hand away from the steering wheel and presses it to her belly. Something nudges against his palm; CHRIS's face twists into a grin.
CUT TO: FAITH and CHRIS at a Tibetan restaurant. Their dishes are in the exact center of the table, with each one being cut neatly into halves and each half being placed atop their individual plates. They've occupied a comfortable little alcove, warm and intimate.
FAITH: - thinks this might be the beginning of Samson's climb to #1.
CHRIS: I think she might be right.
FAITH: Oh, really?
CHRIS: Yes, really. I got, like, three questions about Sunlight Man last night.
FAITH, teasingly: I guess they're warming up to you.
CHRIS: It's a bit late for that. The semester's almost over.
FAITH: You could always take note of your favorites and let them know you'd be open to taking on interns.
CHRIS: I could.
FAITH: Maybe I should look into becoming an adjunct. You look like you're enjoying it.
CHRIS: We could revisit it after you pop. I think we'll both be busy with, um, other stuff.
FAITH: Oh, true.
They eat in comfortable silence for a while.
CHRIS: Oh, I almost forgot. How'd the meeting go?
FAITH: It went great! We got the deal.
CHRIS: I'd be surprised if you didn't.
FAITH: Aw, thanks.
CHRIS: Maybe now you can take a much-needed break.
FAITH: Maybe.
CHRIS stands and helps FAITH to her feet. They split the bill, then go for a walk through the mall before heading back to the car. FAITH sags back into her seat with a groan.
CHRIS: You really need a break.
FAITH, whining: I can't. I have too much to do.
CHRIS: Your health takes precedence.
FAITH: Ugh.
CHRIS: Seriously. You came back later than me last night, but you'd already left the house when I woke up this morning. That's not sustainable.
FAITH: Is too.
CHRIS: Three months, tops. That's all I'm asking for.
FAITH makes a face as the mall fades into the rearview mirror.
FAITH: Fine. I'll talk to the others. It's almost like they're eager for more work these days.
CHRIS: Because they're concerned about you. I know I am.
FAITH interlaces her hand with CHRIS's and pulls it to her stomach. CHRIS doesn't resist.
FAITH: Thank you.
CUT TO: A well-furnished apartment in the heart of Kyoto. Blearily, JUNICHI TAKAGI opens his eyes and sits up, the moonlight illuminating his chiseled, tattooed chest. Stretching, he looks around, taking in the rumpled sheets and the breathtaking view of the Kyoto skyline. The view is somewhat obscured by the silhouette of a woman standing out on the balcony, head tilted up at the night sky. As JUNICHI stares, MAX NGUYEN turns, leaning against the railings, and yawns. She's almost completely naked. Almost, because JUNICHI isn't sure if she's wearing anything down there; her swollen stomach obscures much of her thighs.
MAX: We have to stop meeting like this.
JUNICHI: Yeah.
His mouth is dry. MAX heads back inside and seats herself on a nearby couch. It's dark. Neither of them move to switch the lights on.
JUNICHI: How've you been?
MAX: The usual. Still cracking heads with Myoga?
JUNICHI: Yeah.
There is a long silence. JUNICHI watches as MAX toys with her hair.
JUNICHI: Wanna get ramen?
MAX: God, yes.
CUT TO: A 24-hour ramen shop. JUNICHI pays at the counter and carries the tray to the corner, where MAX is sitting, arms folded. Once she's finished her ramen, she takes out her phone and starts tapping at it, the light from the screen bouncing off her spectacles. JUNICHI glances out the window, fidgets for a few minutes, and decides to bite the bullet.
JUNICHI: We should get married.
MAX, eyes still fixed on her phone: Don't be ridiculous.
JUNICHI: Single mothers are generally frowned upon in Japan.
MAX: Good thing I'm not Japanese.
JUNICHI: Aren't all of your friends married?
MAX: If all of your friends were to take a flying leap into Tokyo Bay with cinderblocks fastened to their ankles, would you follow them?
She sets her phone down with more force than is necessary.
MAX: I'm not interested.
JUNICHI: You literally tried to have this talk with me six months ago.
MAX: People change.
JUNICHI: The kid needs a father.
MAX: I've been doing just fine on my own. He'll have a ton of aunts to spoil him, anyway.
JUNICHI: Not if they've got their own kids to take care of.
MAX: Fucking hate kids.
JUNICHI: Why didn't you take care of it, then?
MAX doesn't respond.
JUNICHI: We've been on-and-off for years. It's about time we figured things out. Tried for some stability.
MAX: You're one to talk about stability.
JUNICHI: Let me make it up to you.
MAX: Look, I'm perfectly happy for you to pop in from time to time. Wanna go for all of those parent-teacher conferences, knock yourself out. Fetch the kid to school, go for it. But your apartment is shit. You don't have an actual job. The only reason you don't have a criminal record is because Myoga is on a first-name basis with most of the police chiefs in Kansai.
JUNICHI: I don't see you going out with anyone else.
MAX: Maybe I'm just private.
JUNICHI: Are you, then?
MAX stands up abruptly, then sways. JUNICHI grabs her arm until she stabilizes. She shakes him off and stomps out into the street, then stands there for a moment before heading back to her building. JUNICHI falls into step beside her.
MAX, quietly: No.
JUNICHI: I'm all you've got.
MAX: You're shit at arguing.
JUNICHI: I'm not wrong, though.
MAX: Look, can we just fast-forward to the part where you're fucking my brains out against my bedroom wall?
JUNICHI: Okay.
CUT TO: JUNICHI and MAX collapsing back into MAX's bed, panting. As she catches her breath, MAX presses one hand to her womb. She turns to face JUNICHI and sees that he is watching her.
JUNICHI: We'll make it work.
MAX: We've been making it work, asshole.
JUNICHI: Bitch.
MAX: Idiot.
JUNICHI leans over and kisses her. MAX is into it. They make out for an interminable amount of time until her phone begins to vibrate. A bone-white limb emerges from her back, grabs her phone, and slides it into her palm. MAX peels herself off of JUNICHI and squints at it.
MAX: Shit.
JUNICHI: What is it?
MAX: Minnie's in labor.
She heaves herself upright with a huff and marches to her wardrobe, from which she emerges with a duffel. As she disappears into the bathroom, JUNICHI calls after her.
JUNICHI: Want me to come?
MAX: Why the hell not.
JUNICHI: I'll nip off to my apartment, then.
MAX: There's no need. I've got plenty of your stuff. Check the left drawer.
JUNICHI pokes his head into MAX's wardrobe and starts opening drawers randomly until he alights on something that he recognizes.
JUNICHI: Huh. So that's what happened to my hoodie.
MAX: Throw whatever you need into my duffel and join me in the shower.
JUNICHI: You're not the boss of me.
MAX: Come in here and say it to my face, then.
CUT TO: A pair of sheer stilettos clicking across the floor. Zoom out to reveal EDIE LEE, a pair of sunglasses shielding her eyes from the world, striding through the corridors of this swanky hospital. She rounds a corner and smiles as she sees a touchscreen pad mounted on the wall. It reads THIS SUITE OF ROOMS IS RESERVED FOR FRIENDS AND FAMILY OF BOBBY SAMSON AND MINNIE KIM.
She opens the door and finds herself engulfed in an ungodly clamor. She shakes hands with BOBBY's colleagues, exchanges a few well-wishes in Korean with MINNIE's parents, and elbows SHINKAN SEN aside on her way to the other end of the room. Eventually, she finds herself outside a well-furnished maternity ward, which she enters.
MINNIE: Took you long enough.
She looks puffy and wan, but even beyond that, there is a new cast to her features. It's almost as if she's cast off the lingering traces of her adolescence and settled solidly into adulthood. Lingering in the doorway, EDIE feels a sudden upswell of sentimentality so strong that it brings tears to her eyes. She removes her sunglasses, stuffs them into her clutch, and swallows violently.
EDIE: Sorry I'm late.
FAITH: We all reached after she'd given birth.
MINNIE: And I'll be forever grateful for that.
HAILEY: Speak for yourself. I'd love to curse all of you to your faces as I shit this little parasite out.
MAX: Save it for Takeda.
EDIE sits down.
FAITH: You know she came with Takagi?
MAX: To shut you up.
EDIE: Yeah. I could smell him from a mile away. He's still smoking, did you know that?
HAILEY: Of course she knows. She's been banging him every night.
MAX: Shut up, H.
MINNIE: Even Myoga's quit since he and Nyoro started trying.
MAX: He doesn't smoke in my apartment, anyway. Or around me.
FAITH: He'd better not.
EDIE: Yeah, he'd better not.
They're sitting in a loose circle around MINNIE's bed. Outside, EDIE can hear a hundred voices shouting over one another, overlapping and mingling in a raucous chorus of celebration. Some are familiar; others less so.
HAILEY: Hifumi just beat Majo Shimā the other day.
MAX, sarcastically: Oh, really? I didn't know that.
EDIE: You literally spam the group chat every time he goes up a notch.
FAITH: Could you, like, tell us when he crosses an actual milestone, like #50 or #20?
MINNIE: #61 is neither here nor there.
HAILEY: Excuse you. #61 is fucking outstanding for a hero of his age and class, okay?
BOBBY returns, deposits a bundle in a nearby cradle, and exchanges a few soft words with MINNIE before leaving. Once he's gone, the four of them, MINNIE excluded, crowd around the cradle.
MAX: How in the hell did you push that thing out of your -
MINNIE: Max.
FAITH: Did you really go without an epidural?
MINNIE: Yeah.
HAILEY: There's no shame in being a coward, Faith.
EDIE: As if you're going to forego an epidural.
HAILEY: Am too. How am I going to curse Hifumi's family to the tenth generation if I'm asleep?
They retreat back to MINNIE's bedside. HAILEY and FAITH wince as they lower themselves gingerly into their chairs. MAX remains standing.
FAITH: I don't want to stand up again for another fifteen minutes.
HAILEY: Tell me about it.
MAX: Hey, Minnie, can I use your bathroom?
MINNIE: Sure.
HAILEY: Don't take too long.
EDIE: I can't imagine having a bladder the size of a ping-pong ball.
FAITH: One day, we'll make you regret this.
EDIE: Yeah, but not today.
After MAX relieves herself, HAILEY follows. MINNIE clears her throat.
MINNIE, earnestly: In all seriousness, Edie, if you ever need any advice -
MAX: Wait until we've all popped. Don't let Minnie have a monopoly on the truth.
HAILEY: At least wait until we've all lost the weight, too. God, I really hope my body bounces back.
FAITH: It will.
HAILEY: Easy for you to say.
MINNIE: Don't use me as a benchmark. I've been an absolute pig.
MAX: Same.
FAITH, wistfully: It's weird, because I sort of assumed that the five of us would be pregnant at the same time.
HAILEY: That's not how real life works.
EDIE: Actually, on that note -
FAITH punches EDIE in the shoulder.
FAITH: You're pregnant?
EDIE: It's complicated.
HAILEY: How complicated could it be? Either you're pregnant or you're not pregnant.
MINNIE: Who's the father?
MAX: Fuck's sake, let her speak.
MINNIE: There are children in this room.
MAX: You're insufferable, Kim.
EDIE waits for them to settle down. She knots her hands together, rehashes her talking points in her head, and takes a deep breath.
EDIE: So, it turns out that Atsushi isn't as much of a woman as we thought she was.
Four blank faces stare right back at her until the penny drops.
HAILEY, deadpan: You've got to be kidding me.