Musutafu, Japan – After the events that transpired in Yokohama City earlier this week, Top Hero All Might has announced his retirement in a press conference.

All Might's retirement means an uncertain future for Japan and the rest of the world. Having been dubbed "The Symbol of Peace" early on in his career, All Might has acted as a deterrent for villain activity worldwide for over a decade.

Now with the beacon of hope gone, does it mean that there will be an insurgence of crime?

The Hero Headquarters issued a statement, "Although we are deeply saddened and upset by All Might's retirement, it is important to remember that the United States still has many heroes who are able to protect Americans from villain related crime."

Despite this statement, the Hero Headquarters is in disarray over the—

Rob put the newspaper down and rubbed his forehead. His head was spinning from lack of sleep and the deep ache behind his eyes. Most of the previous night had been spent watching and rewatching the videos from All Might's last fight in Yokohama City. In the end, he hadn't figured out anything new, at least, not worth sharing. The overuse of his analysis quirk resulted a headache that prevented him from falling asleep. He hated that his quirk wasn't as potent when he watched videos as it was when he was there himself. He hated the fact that it hurt to use his quirk on videos more. Why he was so concerned about All Might and the events in Yokohama City, a city halfway across the world, he didn't know. He felt irritable and useless. There wasn't anything he could do about it. Yet, he so desperately wanted to find something that could help.

"Hey," a deep voice barked in greeting. Rob hadn't noticed Duke come into the kitchen and was startled by the polite bark. His roommate's arrival was also accompanied by the distinct smell of wet dog. It must have been bath day. "You mind if I put the news on?" he asked as he put their pitcher of filtered water on the counter.

"Go for it." The words came out as more of a groan than a statement.

"Are you okay?" Duke asked shutting the fridge. His ears folded slightly against his head as he looked at Rob with a concerned expression.

Rob waved him off, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just need some aspirin or something."

Duke gave him a stern look but stayed silent. His gaze stayed on Rob for another second or two before he turned to go into the living room to turn on the tv. Soon the sound of Good Morning America filled the small apartment they shared. A segment on the new back to school styles for elementary school children was on. It was somewhat refreshing to hear something that wasn't related to All Might. It didn't quell the sense of unease Rob felt; only distracted him from it. Duke returned to the kitchen, tv remote in hand.

"I could still hear you watching videos when I went to bed," Duke as he took a bowl out of the cabinet. He poured water into the bowl and brought it up to his muzzle. For once he managed to drink out of it without making a complete mess. It must be a terrible thing not being able to drink out of a glass like everyone else. "Did you even sleep."

Rob glanced back down at the newspaper. "No." A photo of All Might's withered form standing behind a podium surrounded by press and security preceded the article. Looking at the thin, emaciated version of the hero that he and Duke admired as children – the hero every child admired—was surreal. He still couldn't believe that man was All Might.

"That's the third time this week." Duke made a noise that was between a growl and a sigh and sat across from Rob. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through the still damp fur between his ears. "You need to stop this Rob."

"But what if I can find—"

"And tell who? We're still college students. We don't have our hero licenses yet. We don't even have hero names. Even if you did find something, who would listen?"

Rob looked away from Duke's piercing gaze. "I know."

When a silence settled between them, Duke lifted the tv remote high enough the signal would register from the kitchen and punched in a number. Rob never had understood why his roommate preferred to watch the channels that only played the news. While it didn't hurt to be informed about the current events, to prefer news was a bit odd.

Rob turned to look at the tv. The station brought in some political bigwig to discuss All Might's retirement. The bigwig was seated between the newscasters and looked at the camera with a semi-bored expression while he spoke. When the female newscaster replied, a slight smirk appeared on the bigwig's lips. Rob's eyes twitched as his quirk began to activate. The bigwig thought the newscasters were complete idiots and frankly had better things to do than to be discussing All Might on national television. The newscasters were feigning surprise at everything the bigwig said as nothing he said was new to them either. Everyone knew that while All Might had been the worldwide symbol of peace, he hadn't fought crime in America for years. His retirement only meant a decrease in public moral. Crime rates in America had been rising for years but the Hero Headquarters refused to acknowledge the reports as it would tarnish their beloved symbol of peace. The newscasters knew this and could have reported on it themselves but the station insisted they get an expert. Their subtle facial expressions and body language told Rob everything.

"But what about the League of Villains?" the female newscaster asked in her most professional voice. "Do you think they will have any influence in the States?"

The bigwig tried is best not to laugh, "It is doubtful that a Japanese villain organization will have any effect on American villain activity." The female newscaster fought the urge to cringe at every word the bigwig said. The male newscaster fought to maintain his composure.

"There is a growing dissatisfaction with the hero system as the focus has shifted away from altruism to that of monetary gain. Many American villain groups share similar sentiments to the Hero Killer: Stain and now the League of Villains," the male newscaster countered. "Are you certain that this new organization will have no effect on American villain activity?" The bigwig looked uncomfortable for a moment and muttered some comment of agreement. The male newscaster was smug as he announced the commercial break.

Rob closed his eyes as a new pain was added to the throbbing in his head. He bent over, resting his forearms on his thighs. Sometime later a furry hand grabbed his and put two pills in his palm, wrapping his fingers around them. He looked up at Duke, who was looking at him with a concerned expression. Duke motioned to the glass of water he had placed on the table before sitting at the kitchen table again. Rob took the pain medicine in one gulp.

"I'm sorry," Duke said quietly. His ears pressed against his head as he looked away. "I should have known you wouldn't be able to control your quirk."

Sometimes Rob couldn't stand that his roommate acted like the smallest offense was his greatest source of shame. It seemed ridiculous for a twenty-year-old man constantly apologize and sulk about the smallest thing. It was part of Duke's quirk. While he had the tracking abilities, agility, and biting strength of a German Shepard, all of which would make him a great hero one day, he also had a lot of the same mannerisms and personality traits as a German Shepard. Sometimes they joked about whether he was a man with a dog quirk or a dog with a human quirk because they didn't know where the line between animal and human lie.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

Duke's ears perked up slightly. "Do you think that crime rates will go up now that All Might's gone?"

"He's not dead, just…retired." Rob corrected. "But it's not that crime rates will go up, but that they'll finally acknowledge that they've been going up. All Might was a spectacular hero but he couldn't be everywhere at once."

"He probably wanted to be."

Rob shrugged. "Probably, but doesn't every hero?"

Duke nodded his head in agreement. "It's the one thing quirks haven't been able to solve." They both were silent for a moment, before Duke spoke again. "You know, I bet the reason why Hero HQ is freaking out right now because not only do they have to acknowledge that villain activity has been alive and well but also that there are a lot of people who would agree with Stain."

"I wouldn't doubt it. There are few heroes who go into the profession out of the goodness in their hearts these days. They either want the money or have a terrible superiority complex," Rob sighed leaning back in his chair. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm even trying to become a hero. It's not like I'm particularly suited for combat."

"You want to help people. You wouldn't have stayed up all night analyzing those videos if you didn't have a desire to help," Duke reassured him. "And it's that desire that counts."

"I guess…"

It was at that moment that both Rob and Duke's cellphones pinged. Duke reached into his pants pocket and pull out his phone. He swiped on the screen to look at the notification. After skimming over its contents, he looked back up at his friend. "Rob, check your email, you need to see this."

Rob took his own phone off the table and turned on the screen. The email was from their university's hero department. It was an announcement that all members of the hero program of at least junior standing would be taking the National Hero License exam the following week as there was a national shortage of heroes due to several heroes being sent to Japan to aid the on-going investigations of the League of Villains. The department would be covering travel to Seattle and lodging. He looked up at Duke, "I though Hero HQ said everything was fine."

"I guess not, as we're take the license exam next week."

Rob reread the email. The shock of having to take the hero license exam a year earlier than expected began to sink in. Part of him couldn't believe that Hero HQ was taking such drastic measures without telling the public. They probably wanted to avoid civilian panic, but this seemed a bit rash. Whatever the reason, he wouldn't know until he took the exam.

If there was one thing for sure, he didn't feel useless anymore.