"Our heroes think too highly of themselves, fighting battles they can't even handle and putting themselves out of commission all often."
"One of our sponsors is threatening to limit his donations because one of his companies was destroyed during the last attack, we can't afford any decrease in the support they give."
Sitch closed his eyes in thought. He had a way to solve their current problem, but was it worth the possible risk?
Someone cleared their throat from in front of him, "Sitch," Said man glanced up, "You seem to have something in mind, care to share?" This garnered the attention of everyone there, all eyes focused on him.
The minister officer nodded his head, "I have been in contact with the people in the shadows—"
"Assassins?!" He was cut-off, the other higher ups immediately shooting down his idea, "Preposterous! Those people murder other people for a living, the direct opposite of our heroes! They're practically monsters!"
"Must I remind you that Flashy Flash, an S-class hero, came from the same background?" He answered back, "They are known to have morals and values, far from what a monster is. They can be trusted."
"We already have a ninja, why would we need another one?!"
He was bombarded with more protests before he silenced them by slamming his hands on the table, "Listen! The one I am in contact with, the leader of those people, is a healer foremost! Said to be the best in the world!"
"Are you proposing we hire a healer from mercenaries?!"
One of the executives scoffed, "They're killers. There is no such thing as healers in their midst. If there ever was so, what makes them different from our hospital staff? Who's to say this isn't an elaborate plot to kill our heroes in their weakest state, when they couldn't fight back?"
It was silent.
Sekinger, the only one with no complaint as of far, spoke up, "And what do they want in return?" He ignored the outrage from the other officers. Healers were exactly what they needed, and if what Sitch was saying is true, having such a healer in their ranks would prove vital in future predicaments.
"A hero." And before any would object, "A Hero Exchange Program is what we had in mind. They want a ninja for a ninja, someone of high ranking."
"We're not giving away Flashy Flash!"
Sekinger had a person in mind. If the likely chance of it all being a plot to weaken their walls, this person wouldn't even put a dent if they were to kill her. "Done. Call in Shadow Ring."
Sakura met Saitama when she was sixteen.
She was just about done learning all that she can about the place she was in, now on the way to where she was told to meet the people her master had a deal with.
Until she heard hacking at a distance and watched as a man practically ran himself into the ground.
She rushed to his side, patting his back as he retched horribly on his knees. "Mister?! Mister, are you alright?!" Handing him a bottle of water, she scanned his body for any signs of injury. Seeing none, she placed the back of her hand against his forehead and the palm of the other on hers. She frowned.
Helping him to his feet, she adjusted her thigh pouch and backpack as she swung one of his arms around her shoulders and gently held his wrist as she used her free arm and gripped his waist to secure him to her. "Mister, where do you live? You have a fever. I'm a medic, I can help." She was practically carrying him, going down the path where she saw him running from.
She heard him mumble something. "What was that?" She stopped, looking up at the man. He was sweating profusely, hair covering his eyes as it stuck to his forehead. She could feel the heat of his fever radiating off of him. "Could you please repeat that?"
"I don't need your help," He panted, his labored breathing becoming apparent to her as he struggled out of her grasp. "I need to get stronger."
Sakura scoffed, "Putting yourself under too much stress while having a fever would put too much strain on you both physically and mentally. You'd do more harm than good in your current state." She shrugged off his futile attempts at making her let go. "Now, tell me where you live."
It took him a moment of useless struggle before he gave up and slumped against the smaller woman, inwardly questioning how she was able to carry him in spite of the obvious gap in stature. And from the sound of her voice, she sounded young. "Just go down that path and continue straight ahead."
If she had a dollar for every person who stopped to stare at her on her way to the man's home, she'd be rich.
She rolled her eyes. It's not like she needed it, but it would've been nice to receive an offer of help. The heat was getting to her. Where are those so-called heroes?
"Here." The man weakly alerted her. Sakura stopped in front of a large chain-link fence with 'Keep Out!' and 'Danger!' signs on both the fence and around the vicinity. She cocked an eyebrow when she caught sight of the man-made hole in the middle where similar signs were pushed away from.
She shrugged, moving carefully through the hole with the man still stuck to her like glue, 'Which he kind of is since the sweat is making him sticky.'
The teen surveyed her surroundings, taking in the rubble and destruction. If memory serves her right, this was the rumored 'Ghost Town' of Z-City. She glanced at the ill man at her side, how has he managed to survive here?
She walked aimlessly with the barely-conscious man, awaiting further instructions. It was only until she felt a tug at her hand did she stop to look at him in question, following where his head is pointed and almost letting out a small laugh in disbelief, seeing a barely-scratched-in comparison to its neighboring buildings-apartment complex in the otherwise trashed city. A miracle, really.
The man communicated with her through tugs and the swings of his head, which wasn't really ideal, given his current situation. It's sure to give him a killer headache later on if he were in the hands of a lesser-skilled medic- which she wasn't, fortunately for him.
Sakura stopped walking when she heard the clicking of a doorknob being unlocked, the man using his previously limp hand to open the entrance to which was presumably his home. Why he had to choose the one in the middle of the building, she didn't bother asking.
There were a few empty cups of ramen lying around the wooden floor and an unmade futon. Other than that, the room was in a way better condition than what it looked like from outside. If all the other rooms were like this, she may have just found herself a new home.
She laid him down on the futon, removing the small pouch strapped to her thigh before falling to her knees as she took a quick profile check of the man. He looked better than when she first found him.
Nodding her head, she put down her backpack and opened it to grab a clean cloth and took out her water bottle to dampen it slightly before folding it and placing it on the man's head.
'Damp clothes would just hinder his recovery' She reached for the zipper of his tracksuit.
But before she could pull it down, his hand shot up to grab her wrist in a vice-like grip.
Her eyes widened in alarm, immediately switching her gaze from the hand clasped around her wrist to the face of the man responsible, seeing him with his eyes narrowed, looking at her suspiciously, almost no trace of a fever on his face aside from the sweating and red skin.
"Are you some kind of pervert?"