The past month had been... eventful. That was putting it mildly.
Hikaru watched Terra execute a flawless kata with her earth manipulation, creating and dismissing stone platforms in a rhythmic flow. She'd come a long way from the exhausted girl they'd found fighting Cinderblock. Over the past four weeks, she'd integrated into the team so naturally that sometimes it was easy to forget she'd only been with them for a month.
Training with Donna had become part of Terra's routine. The Amazon princess's patient instruction helped Terra refine her raw power into precise technique. Hikaru had walked past the training room countless times to find them sparring—Donna's sword flashing against barriers of compressed earth, both of them laughing when Terra accidentally launched herself backward on a stone pillar.
In the common areas, Terra's presence shifted the team's dynamic in subtle ways. She'd developed an easy friendship with Beast Boy, the two of them trading jokes that made everyone groan. Starfire had adopted her like a younger sister, teaching her Tamaranean recipes, and dragging her along on Earth culture expeditions that usually ended with bizarre purchases.
And with Hikaru, Terra had found a gaming rival. She, Beast Boy, Kid Flash, and Cyborg had formed an unholy alliance during their marathon sessions, trash-talking and button-mashing until someone inevitably threw a controller. Terra's competitive streak matched Wally's, which made for entertaining chaos.
But the past month hadn't been all downtime and team bonding.
Hikaru's expression darkened slightly as he recalled their pursuit of Johnny Rancid three weeks ago. The tattooed motorcyclist had been vandalizing downtown, taunting them with his superior riding skills. Robin had pushed too hard during the chase—taken a turn too fast, hit debris wrong—and his R-Cycle had gone down hard.
The crash had been brutal. By the time they'd reached him, his right arm was clearly broken, the bone visible through torn uniform. The doctors had estimated six weeks minimum to heal.
Robin had spiraled after that. Not outwardly—he still ran briefings, still coordinated patrols. But Hikaru had seen the self-doubt eating at him. The way he spent late nights in the training room, trying to compensate with his left hand.
Then Larry had happened.
Hikaru still didn't fully understand what Larry was. An imp-like creature maybe six inches tall who claimed to be Robin's counterpart from another dimension, possessing reality-warping powers and an enthusiastic desire to "help." The little guy had meant well when he'd tried to fix Robin's arm and assist the Titans.
Unfortunately, Larry's magical finger—the source of his powers—had broken during his efforts.
What followed had been a nightmare of cartoon logic as reality in Jump City had fractured like a dropped mirror. Buildings bent like rubber. The laws of physics became suggestions. Gravity worked sideways.
Johnny Rancid had seized the opportunity, using the distorted reality to power himself up into something monstrous.
Robin and Larry had teamed up to stop him. The battle had been surreal. When Larry finally managed to reset everything, the world had snapped back like a released rubber band. Rancid was defeated, Robin's arm was healed, and the dimensional weirdness had faded.
Two weeks ago had brought different challenges.
Cyborg's match against the robot gamer Atlas had started as trash talk in an online lobby. Victor had dominated the game, and Atlas—unable to accept defeat from someone he viewed as "inferior tech"—had tracked him down in person.
The real-world confrontation had been humiliating. Atlas was cutting-edge robotics, pure machine efficiency. When he'd challenged Cyborg to physical combat, Victor had given everything—his power meter maxing at 100%—and still lost.
Atlas had captured the rest of them, holding the team hostage for a rematch. Forced to watch as Cyborg faced Atlas again.
This time, Victor had failed even faster. His mechanical limits were absolute: 100% was 100%. He couldn't push past his designed specifications.
But then something had shifted. Cyborg had stopped trying to be the superior machine and remembered he was also human. Creativity. Willpower. Heart. Things no power meter could quantify.
When Victor had returned for the final confrontation, he'd somehow pushed past his limits—130% strength, impossible by every engineering standards. He'd beaten Atlas and freed them all.
Afterward, Cyborg had been different. More confident. More complete. Like he'd finally accepted that being part-human wasn't a weakness but his greatest advantage.
Last week had been Robin's turn for a personal crisis.
The martial-artist thief Katarou had outfought him during a routine robbery. Robin had taken it hard—harder than the R-Cycle crash, harder than anything. For someone trained by Batman, being outclassed in hand-to-hand combat cut deep.
Robin had left for Asia without warning, chasing rumors of someone called the True Master. He'd abandoned his gear, his gadgets, everything that made him Robin. Just Dick Grayson seeking to prove himself worthy of improvement.
The team was filled in on his journey upon his return. Mountain trials testing strength, awareness, and agility. Battles with guardian creatures—a giant bear, a blind serpent, a nimble monkey. Each challenge stripped away another layer of Robin's self-doubt.
Katarou had followed him, of course. The thief had tried to steal Robin's earned apprenticeship at the summit. But Robin had combined everything he'd learned—the bear's strength, the serpent's awareness, the monkey's resourcefulness—and defeated Katarou decisively.
The True Master had turned out to be the old woman who'd guided Robin up the mountain. She'd acknowledged his perseverance and worthiness, though what actual training she'd provided remained mysterious. Robin had returned centered, confident, and surprisingly cool with the teams impromptu dress-up session in his Robin gear.
Hikaru grinned remembering that. Beast Boy in Robin's cape, Wally wearing the utility belt, Terra trying on the mask. Robin had walked in, surveyed the chaos, and simply asked what pizza they wanted.
Then there was the prom incident three nights ago.
Killer Moth's spoiled daughter Kitten had somehow cornered Robin, forcing him to be her junior prom date under threat of unleashing her father's backup moth army via remote control. The prom was held on a cruise ship, naturally, because rich people couldn't do anything normally.
Hikaru and Starfire had crashed the party purely to torment Robin. Watching him suffer through Kitten's possessive narcissism while pretending to be her devoted boyfriend had been entertainment gold. The rest of the team had monitored from the Tower, no hiding the amusement at Robin situation.
Hikaru had caught Robin at the drink table lamenting that Barbara was going to roast him alive if she found out about this.
Mid-dance, Robin had finally snapped and dumped Kitten. She'd revealed the moth remote, her jealous ex-boyfriend Fang—who had a literal spider for a head—had attacked, and chaos had erupted.
The Titans had handled it quickly. Robin defeated Fang with brutal efficiency, Hikaru destroyed the control device with a precision light beam, and the moths had reverted to harmless larvae. Fang and Kitten were arrested, the prom continued, and Hikaru had enjoyed a genuinely romantic dance with Starfire while Robin recovered his dignity.
Terra laughed at something Beast Boy said, pulling Hikaru back to the present. The past month had been insane—reality-warping imps, robot battles, mountain trials, moth armies. Just another month in the life of a Teen Titan.
But Hikaru noticed that over the month Terra, when she thought no one was looking, would make increasingly guilty expressions that she just couldn't hide.