Chapter VII: A Dog Called Ego

"So… basically Turducken is bird meat Frankenstein…" Akira murmured, watching a fast food chain. She shook her head. "We keep this up, we're gonna have a Planet of the Apes situation on our hands…" Imagine turkeys… The human race wouldn't stand a chance.

"They're just birds, Aki," her uncle said while working on his files on the dinner table.

"Wrong. Turkeys… they're Sweeney Todd with wings and more murder. I wanna eat them all with really sweet sauce… And some nice Chianti." Eat them before they eat me.

At that moment, Vlad considered calling an exorcist. "You're not old enough to drink wine." He stood up and checked on her. She's moody today, isn't she?

Akira was curled up on the couch, covered in a small floral kilt. With her knees to her chest, she looked even smaller, taking up less than half the couch.

"The wine won't know, uncle Vlad. The wine won't know." Akira scooted over and felt the couch sink with Vlad's weight.

"You okay? You've been quiet since you came back from walking Ryu. Did something happen?" Vlad asked.

"Nothing happened. I am just tired," Akira lied. There was a heaviness in her head. Her conversation with Ken had wrought her mind with unending questions. "Also, my wrist feels a bit sore."

"What about some painkillers? Recovery Girl gave me some—"

"That's a bad idea. No, I will not self-medicate." She didn't want a repeat of two years ago. "But you can help me with something."

"What? No, I will not play Dark Souls with you again," her uncle groaned.

Akira laughed. "I haven't seen a grown man rage like that before. It was interesting. For a second there I thought you were gonna do some aggressive air guitar skills, but that's not what I am asking."

"What then?"

"Let me in on the Stain cases. There's a lot of juicy stuff there." Akira smiled menacingly.

"No. No. No. NO. That was one time. I shouldn't even be showing those files to you," he said. "And please don't talk about the case like that… It's really… disconcerting."

"So? Come on, just show me more of them. Did you tell the police about what I told you?" Akira said and she sat up from her former position.

"About the whole 'he's not as crazy as we thought he was', well, believe it or not, you're not the first who said that. We just need more than that to get to—"

Akira immediately stood up and strutted to the dining table covered in files. Her uncle, still adamant in keeping her away, strode with his long legs towards her. He barely got there in time with her hand about to pull out the topmost pile. He stopped her from opening it with his large hand smacking on the folder.

"Come on. Just one folder. Just one and then I won't ask anymore. It's a promise," she said. "You know, I'm only trying to help." Akira frowned at him.

Vlad pouted. "Fine. Just the one, okay?" He scanned the folders. He didn't want to accidentally give her the "juicy stuff" like the body parts and stab wounds. He'd really like to keep his niece sane.

"Here," he said and handed her a small envelope that said: STAIN MESSAGES. "Tell me something about this."

Akira opened the envelope with the restrained enthusiasm of a trained puppy. Inside were photographs of typewritten letters believed to be from Stain. Most were, oddly enough, written in English.

"You guys got letters from him? Who did he send it to?"

"The police got some of 'em, the media and even Hero Agencies, particularly his victims'… Does it matter… who he sends them to?" He asked, his face turning pensive.

"Yes. It could tell us about whose… attention he's trying to get. Stain seems like a very angry man," she commented and began to read from one of the letters.

This is Stain. The one responsible for the wounds of that hero in the Red Lights District alley. The one who bled that hero dry behind that bar in Tokyo. They didn't even see me coming and now they are both impalled by my blades and their incompetence.

The Heroes you looked up to are pretentious, nave-like and false. They could've got to me if they are as strong as they tell all of us. They could've easily caught me if they were truly doing their jobs, but I found them both swimming in drunkness and stupor. Now, I will have to kill again.

You media who crown them with such false praise. You will have your share of the pain. You have allowed them to be fat and weak in the face of society, and society lets them. All because they are heroes.

The Hero name is nothing but a joke. I am Stain and I mean to purge this world of these "heroes".

P.S: The media lies to you. Keep watch and keep your eyes open. No one is safe. Not even your heroes. The streets will run red.

"Freaky, isn't it?" Vlad murmured.

"Freaky? You mean his inconsistent tenses. His appositives need work. And he misspelled some of the words…" Akira murmured, missing the quizzical look Vlad was giving her.

"The guy kills and maims people for a past time and you make fun of his spelling? You need your priorities straight," he scolded.

"I wasn't making fun. I was merely pointing it out. These are salient points even your police could notice," she countered.

"Yeah, they did notice that. They also noticed that he used big words, despite the mistakes. So it meant he was well-educated," he informed her, and she looked to him. They had both taken a seat beside each other.

"Well, they're quite right. Also, he's very melodramatic. Definitely the showman type of person. A bit wordy, too," she mumbled with her finger rubbing on her chin.

"Melodramatic and wordy?" Vlad asked with disbelief.

"Yes, he could've just said 'heroes suck balls' or 'heroes are liars' but no," Akira commented, "he uses three words and— 'nave-like'? I mean, it's a mistake, yeah, it's spelled with a K. Still, you don't use those words everyday."

"So what you're basically saying is that Stain is a–uhh–a drama queen?" Vlad asked. Where is she getting these from?

"Well, he's more like the type of person who writes a really long review for bad service… He wants people to… look at him. He's like 'hey people, this is wrong. Don't let them get away with it. They're not what you think they are. Look at me!… Look at me." Look at me. Akira paused, eyebrows scrunched together.

"What? What?" Vlad poked her. She's gone. She has passed our view.

"He's done this before," Akira whispered, finger tapping on her lip and a haze upon her eyes.

"He's done this before," she repeated. She gave him the envelope back and walked to the stairs.

"W-what? Done what before?" Vlad asked. She was rambling now but he knew better than to dismiss them. She was now ascending through the stairs.

"Hey, Aki? Done what exactly?" Akira rolled her eyes and craned her neck at him.

"Rant!"


"Mwwwwaahh!"

The fatigue settled in and all Akira could do was sigh. Recovery Girl's Quirk was a blessing, but the after effect was calling her right into the arms of sleep.

"Is your wrist still hurting?" Recovery Girl asked.

"It's a bit sore… like a little throbbing pain," Akira answered. "Are my bones okay now?"

"Yes, but just to be safe, let's keep the bandage on for now," she said as she check the stretchable binding on her wrist. "Also, are you allergic to…painkillers? Your uncle said that you wouldn't take them?"

"I just get a bit–uhh–" Akira shifted her eyes away for a second, "–uhh–dizzy…"

"But if it ever gets worse, just come to the clinic and I'll give you a mild painkiller. It's not that strong so I think it won't affect you much."

"Okay, thanks, Recovery Girl."

"Anytime, dear."

The quiet walk to her classroom filled Akira's mind with apprehension. Ken had texted her that morning, telling her they would push through this weekend, if she was sure to go there.

Oh, I am sure. Akira, honestly, couldn't fathom her fear and Ken's worry. There was a stirring in her gut. She was nervous to go back there, of course. It held memories, faded and washed out, but they were real, and the inquisitive nature of her mind called out to it.

When she got to her door, she could hear voices behind it, energetic and fast-paced. It sounded like Iida and a few others. Punctual, as always. She slid the door open and found all eyes on her.

"Umm—Good morning—AAAH!" She screeched when Tooru lunged at her and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"Akira-chan! You're okay now!" Tooru cheered. "We were so worried. You were hurt really bad. Kirishima-kun had to carry you to the Entrance."

Now that… she didn't remember. She remembered being in pain, her sides were aching, her wrist was killing her. She remembered falling unconscious.

"Kirishima, huh?"

Iida was then fast gliding towards her, arms sharply swinging. He stopped about a feet where she was, lip trembling.

"A-Akira-san," he gulped, face flushed. "I'm sorry!" He exclaimed and startled Akira when he bowed. "I should've gotten help faster. The class and the teachers were injured because of my incompetence. Please forg–"

"Stop, what are you doing?" Her eyes shifted to Tooru. "What is he doing? Why is he apologizing?" She looked at him again, bowing to her in a perfect 45-degree angle. It was impressive.

"Iida, don't apologize. If I get injured fighting someone, it's probably my fault. I have a lot to work on. You can't possibly blame yourself for the villain's actions," Akira assured him.

"But–"

"No buts. It's done. We're all alive. You brought back help and that matters more," she firmly said to him. Does he need the paramedics? She thought. His back must be hurting. "Iida?"

Iida remained bowed for a few seconds and straightened himself. Akira started to walk towards her chair and paused when she was beside the tall boy. "It's okay, Iida," she whispered to him and gave him an awkward pat on his arm and went to her chair.

"See, I told you. You've got nothing to worry about, pres," Tooru said behind her. Akira waved at Momo and the girl smiled at her, then felt the eyes of someone else.

Bakugou eyed Yamaguchi and when the latter and he met eyes, he groaned with irritation and looked away. Akira hummed and gave him a glaring side-eye, then continued walking on to her chair and finally, settling on it. Hearing Tooru's words, she quirked an eyebrow.

"Worry about what?" Akira asked.

"Well, Iida-kun was just… worried about you and all," Tooru whispered or pretended to whisper, hands pressed to her face. For some reason, she could sense her wiggling her eyebrows, which was an absurd thought.

"It's only natural, Tooru. We were attacked by terrorists. On a school day. It was such a… drag." Speaking of drag… Akira wondered if Aizawa would be back today. She doubted it. His injuries were from healed. If he came in today, she owed him much more than six bottles of juice.

"Akira-san, how are your injuries?" Momo asked.

"It's fine. It hurts a bit but it's healed. Recovery Girl's Quirk makes me sleepy though," she answered. She observed her hand, turning the bandaged limb over and over.

"Oh, I see. Mineta said something about you fighting that… what was it called?" Momo scrunched her brows.

"A Nomu?"

"Yes! That's it! That must've been scary," she said, leaning close, "what was it like? To fight such as a villain?"

Scary. Exhilarating. Intriguing. If the situations were much more favorable to her, a few more words with that Shigaraki Tomura would've given her more insight. The Nomu itself was an interesting creature albeit sickening in appearance. How it came to be was something she wanted to find out.

But she found herself unable to say those three words. In prior experience, such answers ended up with such unfortunate reactions from the audience.

Why would they be different?

"It was painful but the Nomu was big so it was understandable," Akira said to Momo.

"I wish I was a lot like you. You seemed to be so calm despite what happened and your injuries… I couldn't help Kaminari when he was held up by one of the villains. Jirou-san and I were cornered because of it."

"They're alive. That's all that matters," she assured Momo. "It wasn't your fault that we were in that situation anyway."

"I see…" Momo sighed. "I feel inadequate. I am a recommended student if you didn't know. And I feel as if I am not meeting the expectations of such a privilege… and… " She fidgeted.

Akira tilted her head as she observed Momo. "And? What?" She was curious now.

"And… I think I hope you can help me someday… as a training partner of sorts…" She continued and Akira merely gawked. At that moment, she was sucked into an episode of introspection.

Akira was a novice when it came to giving "emotional support", which was basically Akira repeating the most rational, the most obvious point of the situation, but in her short life, her emotional support came down to a two-path result.

Exhibit A, where the so-called "emotional support" made the subject of such support angry and called Akira rude or cold for telling the most obvious fact.

Example, when a classmate's hamster had died of its owner's carelessness and they were now put off with the thought of getting another pet. Akira hearing such words of regret immediately told them to rejoice.

"You should be happy. Your pet's negligent death has put such an impact in your mind. Or else, you would be participating in another round of animal abuse." Her exact words.

Yuki had been quite angry at her when she heard. "That wasn't nice," she said. "When people tell you to 'use your words', this isn't how you do it."

"What? It was true. He didn't know how to take care of it. Why would he have a pet in the first place?" What was so wrong with what she said? Why was it wrong when it was true?

Exhibit B, Akira's "emotional support" ended up with her buried in tutorials, group studies and becoming the class helpdesk which was ridiculous. She should be the last person to ask help from based on the prior exhibit. But no one was deterred, and it seemed the universe liked pissing Akira off.

Conclusion, her "emotional support" ended up with Akira either being called a psychopath or a fount of forbidden knowledge.

Momo had taken Exhibit B.

It was amazing. The pattern held. Yuki was right. Some of her philosophies should be in a dissertation or pamphlet or something.

"Please, Akira-san…" Momo said, lip quivering.

Akira groaned and held her breath. Damn this. Damn my feeble heart for this.

"Fine. Fine. Okay," she said to Momo, who beamed and clapped her hands, making the people in front curious as to what they were whispering about.

"Yes, thank you, Akira-san."

She looked up to the ceiling and imagined it a sky. Why hast God given me such tribulations? She asked. A thought answered back that sounded so much like those gaming companies.

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The door slid open and Akira looked up to see Kirishima and Kaminari step inside. Kirishima scanned the classroom and when he found Akira, he smiled.

Akira guessed he was happy to see her as he smiled as if the sun was made to rise beside him. The cold airconditioned room felt a warm summer night paired with a cone of ice cream, bewildering Akira. She looked down at her table, brows furrowed.

"Akira-chan! You're back!" Kirishima cheered and Kaminari grinned at her.

"Yes, it was only a broken wrist," Akira replied. And bruised ribs. And abrasions on both my arms. A laceration on my scalp.

"You're a tough one, vice prez," Kaminari said to her.

As the minutes flew by, more people came around and most were more than open to scream their delight in seeing her. Akira could only sit and brace herself for Mina's pats and iron-grip hugs. Midoriya came to class without the casts on his arms, which Akira guessed he had after destroying his own body trying to save his hero. He waved at her when they saw each other.

Akira had put on the headphones for some calm piano, and with an open notebook and a pen, she jotted down her thoughts. Arrows, sharp scribbled words, and lingering thoughts flowed from mind, hand to ink on paper.

STAIN. It was all she could think about.

His cases, the words from his letters and even the faces of victims flashed continuously in her head, like the montage of a broken old film. Click, click, click, it went. As her hand jerked and flitted across the page, she found herself pondering on her words to her uncle.

He's done this before. Look at me. Look at me. Don't let them get away with it. Look at me. He's done this before.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Aki? Look beyond. Look beyond what you see." Her father's voice rung in her head.

"Is that all there is, Stain? Social justice…?" She whispered. "Is that all you really want?"

There was a movement in front. On the podium of the classroom, Iida was standing and she could faintly hear his words over the crescendo of violins on her ear.

"—Take a seat!—-is starting!" He exclaimed, arms raised and ready. She turned off her music and listened to the class.

"You're the only one standing, Iida," Kaminari jested. Iida stomped back to his seat, gritting his teeth.

"I wonder who's teaching us today?" Akira heard Mina ask Tsuyu.

"Well, I'm not sure. Aizawa-sensei was pretty hurt. Maybe a substitute…"

On cue, the door opened, and there, standing on the doorway was a bandaged up Aizawa. He was a mummy, both arms were in a cast and on a sling. It seemed to be the pattern for the man, being wrapped like a burrito.

"AIZAWA-SENSEI!" The entirety of the class exclaimed.

How did he open the door? She wondered.

"Wow! That's so pro!"

"How did he bounce back so quick?!"

Iida stood up from his seat and asked, "Sensei! Are you alright? Is it okay for you to be back so soon?"

"My wellbeing isn't important. There are more pressing matters at hand," Aizawa drawled. "The fight is not over…"

"N-no! Villains?!" Mineta's teeth chattered out of fear. If he keeps doing that, he could send a Morse Code to space… Akira thought.

"The U.A Sports Festival is coming up…"

"YES! A normal school event!" Kirishima boomed with cheer.

"Wait, wait, wait," Kaminari mumbled, pushing Kirishima's face with his hand.

"But how could we have the Sports Festival so soon after the villain attack?

"Isn't the school worried it would happen again?" The class started to ask the questions.

"Well, this is to boost morale. That U.A's crisis management is top notch and a villain attack won't stop us from having such a huge event. Security measures will be strengthened this year. But more than that, the U.A Sports Festival is your greatest chance, which is exactly why we can't cancel it despite what happened in USJ."

Greatest chance, huh?

"Yeah, but isn't that like… just a sports festival?" Mineta mumbled.

"What? You've never seen the U.A Sports Festival, Mineta?"

"Of course, I have. Who hasn't? But what I meant was—-"

"The Sports Festival is not just the school's biggest event but the whole country's," Aizawa continued. "In the past, people used to be crazy for the Olympics, but now, the U.A. School Festival has taken its place."

"And the Pros all over the country will be watching us… For scouting purposes!" Momo added. Akira quirked an eyebrow at that.

She couldn't believe she forgot about the whole sports festival. Get your head in the game, gal.

"Well, when we graduate, it's normal to join a Hero agency and become sidekicks," Kaminari chimed in with a thumbs-up.

"Yeah, but some people become sidekicks permanently and miss their chance of going independent. Kaminari, I think you're kind of that guy… cause you're kinda dumb," Jirou deadpanned making Kaminari's face turn sour and raisin-like.

"Of course, joining a hero agency gets you famous and helps you gain experience, but it all starts in the Sports Festival… That's one chance a year… which means only three chances total. If you truly want to be a hero, you won't miss this. So do your best in preparing yourselves."

"Yes, sir!" The class replied.

"Dismissed."


"I am freakin' excited!" Kirishima cheered.

The beginning of lunchtime now divided the class into clusters, save for a few. Akira herself was dragged close to Momo and Jirou, and was listening to both their group and to Midoriya's behind her.

"You're a big guy, Mezou. Everyone's gonna be impressed with you immediately," Kaminari ruefully said.

"Yes, but I would like to prove my usefulness," Mezou said.

"Akira-chan, aren't you excited? You seem to be your… usual self," Momo commented.

"I am. Excited," Akira said.

"You don't look like it though," Kaminari added.

"I really am not in the mood for screaming. If I wanted screaming, I'd go ask Bakugou," Akira quipped.

"WHAT?!" Bakugou barked a few chairs behind her.

"I think he heard you," Jirou whispered.

Akira shrugged her shoulders. She once fought a serial killer who ate people's flesh to heal, and Akira actually caught him in the act, feasting on a poor man's liver. "Sorry, I need the iron. I'm anemic," he growled at her. "The Ghoul", the media had called him.

If Bakugou, by some sadistic circumstance, could top that, then fearing him could be an option.

"Guys! I'm gonna do my best!" Roared an excited Ochako, fist in the air. There was a maniacal grin on her face. That's bloodlust. Akira's fight-or-flight instincts whispered.

Ochako turned to the other folks behind her. "Guys! I'M GONNA DO MY BEST!" The fire in her eyes glowed even more. Everyone cheered, but she could see Tokoyami and Sato looked confused.

Akira heard a loud smack behind her and looked to find Mineta rubbing a red mark on his cheek. Tsu-chan was right beside him. Hmm… probably deserved it.

When it was time to leave for the cafeteria, Akira was surprised to find herself being dragged by Ochako whose enthusiasm hasn't died down.

"Come, eat with us!" She said to Akira.

Akira wanted to refuse but with the glint of bloodlust in Ochako's eyes, she just couldn't. Akira, despite her well-timed foolhardiness, would not like to become someone's lunch, so she ended up walking with Uraraka, Iida, and Midoriya.

"Uraraka-san, why did you decide to become a hero?" Midoriya asked.

"Well, you see… I'm kinda doing this… for money," Uraraka chuckled and shyly scratched her head.

"For money?" Midoriya tilted her head.

"My family owns a construction business, but there hasn't been much work lately, so we're kinda broke…I'm sorry… It's embarrassing, I know. You have such admirable reasons to be here."

"Why would it be wrong to want to work for a better lifestyle? It is admirable to work for something like that," Iida exclaimed with vigor.

"Wait a minute, if you could get your license, you could lower construction costs with your Quirk. I mean, the expenses for heavy equipment would be greatly decreased," Midoriya suggested.

"That is exactly what I told my parents! They wanted me to continue becoming a hero… but I want to help them as well!" Ochako said.

"Bravo, Uraraka!" Roared Iida, and clapped his hands above his head. For a second there, Akira thought he was gonna do the YMCA or something.

"MIDDDDORRIIYYAA!"

All of them yelped in surprise. When they looked, they found All Might's head sticking out of behind a wall.

"I've got lunch," he said and pulled out a bento.

That's adorable. It truly was. Akira made sure to file that in her head. Category: My reasons to live.

"Is it okay, Young Midoriya?" He asked the boy. Midoriya looked at his companions and they nodded at him, including Akira, allowing him to go with the hero.

When they were now close to the cafeteria, Iida turned his attention to Akira. "Yamaguc–"

"Akira," she corrected.

"Uhh, yes, I'm sorry. Akira-san, since we've asked Uraraka her reasons for becoming a hero, what about you? What made you decide to become a hero?" Iida asked.

She couldn't tell him why or how she got into U.A., but she could tell him why she agreed to be here.

"I want to-uhh-fight villains because they are-umm… bad," stammered Akira. I want to legally beat up bad guys.

"That's very noble of you, Akira-chan… fighting for justice," Iida said to her.

"Y-yeah, I guess," Akira mumbled.

Justice wasn't a frightening word, not to most villains anyway. A hero could say that to a villain and the latter could laugh. They weren't afraid of a blind woman and a scale.

They were afraid of Akira though. A few of those criminals tried to bribe her money, or drugs or some favor. Funny how they whimpered and cried when they realized, they couldn't cheat their way out of the scales.

This one wasn't blind. This one could see them. Akira didn't want justice. She wanted debridement. A surgical procedure.

"Akira-chan, are you okay? You were quiet there for a while…" Ochako said to her.

"Nothing. I'm actually thinking about… the School Festival," she lied. "Sorry, I've been known to… drift away a lot."

"That's okay… You don't look like it but I know you're excited, Akira-chan!" Ochako cheered.

"Well, whatever comes my way in the festival, I'll be ready for it… like always," Akira said. I need to be. Always.

"That's right, Akira-san! We must be ready!" Iida roared his heart out.

When they arrive at the cafeteria and lined up, it wasn't that long of a line but it didn't stop her companions from chattering. It wasn't uncomfortable to be around them at least. Akira looked around and saw a few of her classmates had lined up as well. A few people away, stood Todoroki, stiff and unmoving like a statue.

Truth be told, Akira found him a bit… unnerving. Not in a bad way though. He was unnerving in that he seemed to be unreadable to her. It irked Akira so. She knew a few things about him, the bad things mostly.

Mostly about his father. She thought. It seemed a secret since no one in class ever mentioned it. Understandable, Endeavor, the No. 2 Hero, wasn't one to advertise his true identity.

"I wonder what All Might-sensei wanted with Deku-kun," Ochako said.

"Well, maybe it had something to do with what Tsuyu-chan said about his Quirk, you know, about it being the same as All Might's," Iida theorized.

"Hmm…" Akira could only hum in thought while Ochako agreed with him.

Her mind started to drift away but found itself tethered to a few things, the Festival, Midoriya's secret, and her visit to her old home. All mountains to climb. Plan them well and she could cut a swathe right through all these.

Maybe you should leave Midoriya's secret alone. A part of her said.

Maybe you should shut the fu—

"May I take your order?" The lady behind the counter asked.

"Pasta, a lemon soda and that piece of chocolate cake," she answered.

"Alrighty!" The lady said back to Akira. Akira was at least could slurp on some pasta and be happy with the little things… for now.


"Vlad? Vlad? Are you even listening to me?" Aizawa said with irritation.

Vlad had been staring blankly into the void since Aizawa told him about his niece's vigilante activities. Ten months. She had been doing it for ten months. Twice longer than the intel the police had given them and they never noticed.

"Wait, it says here that she might have been involved with the Hasegawa family incident? Isn't that the guy who got acquitted for drug and human trafficking charges, despite the evidence…"

"Yeah, then killed himself and his wife by burning his own house down with them inside it," Aizawa added.

"Yeah, that one! But how could she be involved in that? It doesn't seem like her," Vlad reasoned. "Her method was catching them off guard with a ruse, making them forget and then scaring them to a confession…"

"Yeah, which until now still… worries me. Her Quirk information has never mentioned Memory tampering. It's mostly moving objects and blasting them… but then again, psionics are complicated."

"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Vlad mumbled and Aizawa looked at him.

"What do you mean? The apple doesn't fall far—" Aizawa raised an eyebrow at him.

"Forget I said that," Vlad cut him off.

"Vlad?"

Vlad sighed. Grumpy man wouldn't let it go. "The Yamaguchi clan always had a thing for skirting on the wild side since the emergence of Quirks."

As he read through the files, he found it sickening, having to see all these through Akira's eyes. The rose-colored glasses were gone. He picked through the papers, newspaper clippings, case files and the like. His niece had seen the abyss, serial killers, corrupt officials, libelous journalists, everything.

There was a small piece of a printed newspaper clipping. An odd one since it was a picture of a boy about Akira's age wearing a school uniform.

YOUNG STUDENT JUMPS OFF BUILDING, DEAD ON THE SPOT.

"What's this about a student?" Vlad asked and narrowed his eyes at the printout, "wait, this was in her Junior High. This was about a year ago. She would've been… fourteen when this happened…"

Aizawa peered at him through the bandages. The pieces of their little vigilante were starting to fall in place.

Know who you're dealing with, Aizawa. If we truly want to help her. See what pushed her to become what she is now. Nedzu's words resounded in his head.

"What's this about a student in her school?" Vlad King asked.

"I had to cover my bases so I asked Tsukauchi to make an inquiry under the guise of a school background check. I don't know everything except for what he told me… so talk to her about it. One thing I'm going to tell you though… the ten-month timespan of her activities started a few weeks after that student's death."

"She's not actually the sharing type, Aizawa," Vlad said ruefully, "imagine how she'll be when she finds out we've been snooping around her life… I get knowing her hobbies and her grades, but this... She won't like it."

"Then don't hide it from her." Aizawa began to walk away to the door. "There's something else."

"What?" Vlad looked up.

"Tell her it's not her fault."

Vlad sighed. "She won't believe that."

"Mineta, I swear, you make another inappropriate joke, I will rip that revolting tongue out of your blasphemous mouth," Akira hissed. There was an eerie glow to her eyes. The purple boy cowered in his seat.

A few times Akira, like out of a horror movie, had silently glided herself close to Mineta's seat every time he even had a drop of malice in him. The perverted grape would look to his left and find Akira, with fiery glowing eyes, staring menacingly at him, ready to bestow the wrath of the gods upon him.

It's my job at the cafe all over again. Akira thought ruefully.

She didn't tell her uncle but Ken paid her for more than her pristine work ethic. She wasn't just the barista who made the coffee and tended to the register. No. She was also the impromptu security. They had their own guard, of course, but he was merely a decoy. Akira was the real menace, but she was an effective one.

The Atlas, Ken's space-themed coffee shop, had been a target of a few robberies. Ken had been injured a few times. When Akira came around, she had made it a point to stamp out incidents before they happen.

How? Well, it was kinda difficult to hatch a robbery plan with the barista standing behind you like a ghost right out of a Japanese horror movie. Akira would stand there and look at possible suspects and suspicious individuals, unblinking and unfazed, telling them to surrender or die. There were a few who resisted… but it really wouldn't work if you see the ghost of your mother somewhere.

It was at the cafe that she learned she could tap into a piece of someone's mind. Akira found such an ability frightening yet useful. But no, she would never use it on an ally.

There was that familiar ringing in the air, like the sound of a hundred wind chimes. Akira stared at the door. When Ochako opened it to go out, she found herself facing a crowd of students from other classes. They murmured amongst each other, about the class that survived the attack, the class under the limelight.

"Why are you here?!" Ochako exclaimed in shock. Akira stood up and walked towards the gathering outside the door, bag on her back, ready to leave as well.

"Is there something you guys—?" Akira began to ask them, but Bakugou bumped into her with his shoulder, interrupting her. He gave her a glaring side eye and she frowned at him. "Careful, there, Bakugou."

"Tch, don't get in my way, glowy hands," Bakugou hissed at her. Akira leaned on the wall away from him.

"What are they all doing here?" Someone behind her asked aloud.

"They're here to scope out the competition," Bakugou said. "Get out of my way, extras!"

"That's rude, Bakugou-san! You can't just call people you don't know extras!" Iida scolded behind them.

"Are people in the Hero course this arrogant?" A voice within the crowd asked, laced with distaste.

A boy with unruly, spiked up purple hair walked up to the front of their classroom door. About two feet away from Akira, he stood. "Honestly, I'm disillusioned. I thought you guys are better. You know, a lot of people couldn't get into the Hero course and are stuck in the General Department. The School Festival is our chance to climb the ranks… who knows the reverse could happen to you, too." He paused and peered at them with his exhausted, droopy eyes.

"This isn't a friendly visit. I am here for a declaration of war," the strange boy announced grimly. Akira frowned at him. For a few seconds, their eyes met and glued for a few heartbeats.

It felt like ages before they both looked away, but mere seconds only to the world around them. Akira found the sensation odd yet not unpleasant, like falling in warm waters. What was that about?

"Look what you did, Bakugou! They all hate us now," lamented Kirishima.

Bakugou now parted the front of the crowd with nothing but a murderous determined glare. "It doesn't matter," he said, "I'll rise to the top… no matter what."

There was a calmness in him that Akira had never seen before. The strength in his red eyes was unfaltering, but there wasn't a sneer or a domineering smirk on his lips. Akira thought it was… interesting to look at. The calm before the storm. Bakugou left with nary a glance or word at them.

"T-that was… so manly!" Kirishima exclaimed with unshed tears in his eyes.

"Hey! Hey! You guys! I'm from Class-B! The class right beside you! Yeah!" Another student barked at them. "I wanna see the people who survived the villain attack!" It seemed even her uncle's class couldn't escape the rowdy types.

Akira didn't want to waste time being stuck in front of people too presumptuous to think they are the big fish. No, Akira had greater fish to fry like nightmares, the skeleton's in her family's closet and a hero-killing maniac.

Now, those are big fish to be marinated, filleted and fried in the olive oil of… fry…

Akira shouldn't do serious literature.

Bakugou was not some typical punk, she knew that now. That potty mouth and violent urges could lead most people to assume he was mindless in his appetite for destruction.

"I'll rise to the top… no matter what."

She trudged a path to the library like always and paused in front of a vending machine for some soda, but her luck was rotten. Her little drink was stuck, hanging on the edge of its shelf inside the vending machine.

Akira was patient but having to watch her lemon soda hold on to faith itself, was too much. She held onto the sides of the rectangular machine and shook the whole thing with her arms.

"Oh, please, oh, please…" Akira hissed. "Give me the nectar of the gods…"

The drink fell with a thud into the compartment and Akira cheered.

"You must be really thirsty…" A voice quipped behind her. She looked towards it and she found the "declaration of war" guy. He bent down, drink and handed it to her. Akira gawked at him and soda in his hand.

"That was quite the declaration you made there," she said to him as she took the soda from him.

"I had to tell you I'm serious. You Hero folks and your entitlement…" He lazily peered at her.

"You assume too much. Can I at least get the name of the person who declared war on me?" She said to him. The boy looked taken aback.

"Shinso… Shinso Hitoshi," he answered.

"Akira. Yamaguchi Akira… just Akira," she said to him.

"O-okay, Akira. What's it like being in the top class?' He asked and bought a can of Sprite from the vending machine. Shinso opened it with a pop and took a few gulps from it.

"Lots of work… and a villain attack apparently," she wryly told him. "Worst second day of my life…"

"Second? Wait… You're the new kid," Shinso said.

"You guys heard, too?… Word really does travel…" Akira mumbled. "I don't see why it's such a big deal."

"Do you know how rare that happens?… You must be hella special to be here," Shinso chimed in. Akira shook her head slightly.

"You were in the villain attack… What was it like?" He asked.

"It wasn't pretty. Got knocked out by a monster. Broke my wrist. Bruised ribs and all. I can't take a pill for the pain," Akira answered and shifted on her feet.

"They gave us two weeks to prepare for this festival. I'll see you there," Shinso said and walked away.

Akira watched him as he left. It seemed Senior High was more vicious than she expected. The competition was way more intense in Hero schools. It's not like Junior High was friendlier.

But why hate on us, Shinso? She thought. A riddle has come her way once more and, like any, she must unriddle it herself.


Author's Note:

Don't forget to like or follow if you want updates! Reviews are always welcome.

- Yes! It's the Sports Festival. Challenges ahead for Akira and Co.

- Music of the Chapter: Elegy of the Arctic by Ludovico Einaudi

- The title is based on a Friedrich Nietzsche quote: Whenever I climb, I am followed by a dog called 'Ego'.

- I heard this quote playing an indie game called "Getting Over It" by Bennett Foddy. It's a rage game where you have to climb a mountain of obstacles with a hammer, and anytime you could fall off and start over again, while narrator mentions quotes & plays music that pisses you off. I kept telling Nietzsche to shut up every time, and this quote just stuck with me.

- The letter from Stain is based on multiple serial killer letters. I had to read through a lot of the creepy letters, and made my own for him. The ones that made the most impression to me were the letters from Son of Sam (D. Berkowitz), Beltway Snipers (J. A. Muhammad & L.B. Malvo), the Zodiac Killer and the Boston Strangler (A. De Salvo).

Thanks for the support. More chapters incoming!