Say It For Yourself

Jackson wasn't new to wandering cityscapes. It's what helped him pass so much of his time after school and all his other homework was finished. It was kind of hard to pass the time otherwise if you didn't have any friends. The thing about New York that was different to other cities he had lived in was that it had this sort of… alive quality to it. It had certainly not felt this way in Philadelphia. He had heard that the place was called the city that never sleeps, but he had never really put much credence into it. But now that he was there, he couldn't help but feel as if he was being watched…

Tensed, Jackson glanced to the left. He was sure he had seen someone or something out of the corner of his eye. But there was no one else on either side of the street. Jackson sighed. It seemed the city wasn't the right call for trying to clear his head. Instead, it was tricking him into thinking he had seen something that wasn't there. Jackson chuckled. Of course now would be the time he would start going crazy. But all thoughts of whether or not he was insane left his mind as he rounded the corner.

Seated and leaning against the wall of the building was a homeless man. Garbed in loose fitting sweats, the man wore a patchy beard and a ratty mess of hair. He didn't appear to be paying attention to anything around him. Instead, a thousand-yard stare was etched across his face. He looked like he had been on the streets for years.

Jackson wasn't sure how to react. Despite the fact that he had been living in progressively poorer areas, he had never really encountered any homeless people. At least, not as close as he was now. At first, he wanted to simply turn around and walk away. It would have been the most straightforward action he could have taken. The man wasn't giving him any thought, so there was no expectation on his end to do anything…

Walking forward, Jackson pulled out his wallet. It had been a gift from his dad when he had turned ten. Back then, it had a shiny, leather-like surface. It had been one of the most expensive things Jackson had owned, and he treasured it. Now, it was worn beyond belief and only contained a few dollar bills. Still, it was something.

"Here you go, sir," Jackson said, presenting the wallet, "It's not much, but it's all I have on me right now."

Not moving his head, the man's eyes flitted towards Jackson. For at least a minute, the two simply stared into each other's eyes. The man's were slightly sunken and completely black, as if the iris and pupil melded together. To Jackson, it was if he was looking into a pair of deep, dark pools. He knew he had seen a similar pair reflected in the car window before…

Pain shot through his leg. Torn from his trance, he glanced down in time to see a lizard tail wrapping around him. Before he could react, he felt himself being dragged into the air. The homeless man was leaping from building to building, pulling him along for the ride. As he flew, though, Jackson realized the man had changed, aside from the lizard tail. He had significantly bulked up and his skin had been replaced by a leathery set of green scales.

"Thanks, kid! Really appreciate it when some new blood comes around these parts!" he shouted, glancing back at Jackson. His eyes that had once been nothing more than blank voids now shone with a brand new menace. "The ol' 'homeless man' look works great on people like you who aren't used to the city!"

With a crunch, the two came to a halt. It took Jackson nearly everything he had not to vomit. It didn't help that the world was still spinning. Closing his eyes, Jackson took a deep breath. His head was still throbbing, but it was manageable. He was confused why they had come to such a sudden stop. Wind whistling in his ear clued him to the fact that they were still fairly high. That's when he heard it.

From somewhere far below, there were screams.

Eyes shooting open, he glanced down and immediately regretted it. He and the lizard-man were several stories off the ground, clinging to the side of some office building. Jackson's heart raced. He turned his gaze to his kidnapper. A mad grin had begun to spread across his face as he had gotten more and more attention.

"Alright folks!" he shouted, satisfied with the crowd's size, "Name's Lizardo, and if you don't want this kid to be a sidewalk pancake, then I'm going to need you all to get together and start a little crowd-funding!"

"That won't be necessary, villain!"

Jackson and Lizardo's attention was ripped to the side. Hanging from the side of the building, cape flapping in the wind, was a hero. And the strangest one Jackson had ever seen, too. He didn't know how to exactly describe his outfit other than "modernized samurai". His armor was a deep red, with black and silver highlights. On his helmet, there was simple U-shaped crest, also silver. There was something else attached, but Jackson was still too dizzy to focus. Also, did the cape he was wearing have a heart on it?

Getting over his shock, Lizardo shouted at the hero, "You… how the hell did you get up here?"

Despite the fact that his eyes were shielded behind a pair of silvery goggles, the grin the hero wore was still as clear as day. "I climbed, obviously."

Lizardo gaped at the hero. Jackson was just as confused, as he was also still trying to figure out whether or not there was actually a heart on his cape. Absentmindedly, he went to scratch at his leg, which was still bound by Lizardo's tail. But as he went for the itch, he realized too late that his glove had disappeared. Lizardo yelped in pain. Jackson's hand was suddenly warm and wet. And not only that, but he was also in free fall. On reflex alone, Lizardo had released Jackson hundreds of feet above the ground to tend to his tail.

The world seemed to slow down around him. You'd think there'd be some kind of terror, but really it was very calm. There was nothing he could do. Everything that had led up to that moment seemed to flash before his eyes. For the second time that day, a phrase he hadn't really put much thought into became true. That had to be some kind of record, Jackson thought. Somewhere above him, he heard the muffled shout of the hero. Their voice was filled with authority, but there was also panic. Hey, at least he had tried. Jackson silently thanked the hero, hoping that him dying wouldn't be causing the hero any more problems.

Woof.

Jackson had been stopped in midair. The sudden stop had knocked the wind out of him, but he was still alive. If Jackson had any air in his lungs, he might have screamed. But before he could adjust, a voice began to shout from thin air.

"Way to give away my position, Heart!" the voice said, an air of annoyance filling the empty space.

From above, the modern samurai retorted, "Well it's not my fault you were in the perfect position, Chameleon!"

But before either could get off any more words, Lizardo went on the attack. He had grown tired of the heroes that didn't seem to take him as a threat. Swinging down the windowed wall, he threw his fist towards the new unseeable enemy. Before Jackson knew it, he was being dragged away by Chameleon, only catching a quick "Hang on" before the two smashed their way through another window. Chameleon pulled Jackson in tight as they rolled across the floor. All around him, Jackson heard shouting. Squirming free, Jackson turned to stare at his rescuer. He was bleeding.

Somewhere between the roll and recovery, Chameleon had apparently rematerialized. The suit he was wearing would have simply been olive had it not been polka-dotted with his blood. He was unsteady on his feet and looked disheveled, but he still tried to keep order, asking those around him to remain calm. But Jackson was too focused on the blood to hear him. That was two in one day. Two people that had been hurt by his actions. Swallowing, Jackson didn't know what to do.

So he ran.

Behind him, he heard Chameleon shouting at him to stop running. From outside, he heard the Heart hero and Lizardo continue their battle. As he shoved his way past the throng of office workers, he could feel their angry stares. Why shouldn't they be angry? Heart was right about it not being his fault. Because it was all Jackson's fault. Breaking into a hallway, Jackson glanced around. Finding the nearest staircase, he began to descend as the tower shook from Lizardo's impacts.

About an hour panic-fueled wandering later, Jackson stopped to catch his breath. Hunkered over, Jackson leaned against a nearby wall, wondering how long it would take his parents to start worrying about him. Surely this would be a perfect opportunity to finally be rid of him. But as he inhaled, he picked up on the air's faint smell. It was salty. Curious, Jackson rose to his feet and began to walk to try and find its source. Rounding the corner, he was shocked to find himself facing the upper bay. It served as a very large reminder of how far he had traveled that day. His family's apartment had been somewhere in Queens, he wasn't exactly sure where yet, though. But with the view he had, he knew he had ended up in Manhattan after Lizardo's kidnapping attempt. Elis and Liberty island were in full view, with the Statue of Liberty standing out against the flat water.

Sighing, Jackson leaned against a nearby railing. Staring out at the waters, he began to wonder if there was a place for him out there…

"Wow, kid. You really got far, didn't you?"

Jackson spun around, hand out and ready to attack. It was the samurai. Jackson was dumbfounded. He had covered so much distance between him and the heroes, yet here was one of them standing in front of him. He was so shocked, in fact, that he collapsed to the ground, unintentionally carving at the sidewalk. Now frantic, Jackson made an attempt at covering up what his quirk had done, but to no avail. He expected this to be added to the list of things the samurai would yell at him about. Instead, though, the samurai knelt down next to him, seeming to be more interested in his leg than the property damage he had just caused.

"Yep, thought so," the samurai muttered, sifting through the folds of his sweats.

Looking down, Jackson was curious what the hero meant. The realization was immediate. Apparently he had managed to scratch at the itch on his leg. In the process, though, he had taken a sizable patch of skin off. Blood had been leaking into his sock the entire time and he didn't even know. But that just meant it was more issues for the hero. And Jackson was at fault, again. But the samurai didn't seem to mind. Instead, he pulled a capsule away from his costume and without a word sprayed whatever liquid was in it onto the wound. Seconds later, the skin was replaced and the bleeding was gone.

"Alright, that should do it for you, kid," he said, rising to his feet with a big grin.

Jackson was speechless. In the midst of a fight, the hero had noticed that he had been hurt. He knew exactly where he had been hurt. And not only that, he had tracked him down just to heal him.

Shaking his head, Jackson was only able to murmur out, "But I don't even know who you are…"

Tilting his head, the samurai gave Jackson a confused look, discernible despite the goggles. Finally, he snapped his fingers. "Ah, I see. You must be new around here. Well, I'll tell you who I am. I am…" he drew his sword, "Samurai Heart!" He paused. Jackson's quiet stare was obviously not the reaction he had expected. Sheathing his sword, he pursed his lips in slight disappointment. But he was quick to be over it and already moving onto the next subject. "You know, that quirk of yours is pretty cool. Honestly, I'm surprised you even got kidnapped if you're able to do that kind of damage."

Jackson slumped. Raising his right hand, he stared at what was on it. There were faint traces of what he could only assume to be his and Lizardo's blood. "Like any good could ever be done with these hands," he said, letting his arm drop, defeated.

"What are you talking about kid?" Heart said, the confusion prominent in his voice. When Jackson offered no answer, he sighed. But instead of walking away, he unlatched his helmet, pulled down his goggles, and sat down next to him. Jackson was mildly surprised, but still just expected the same routine of telling him it would be alright. He already knew that approach wouldn't work, and he was prepared to ignore it again.

"Really, kid. Why can't you do good?"

Jackson's surprise was much more potent this time. He could feel his hands begin to shake. Heart continued to stare at him. Phrases and excuses ran through his mind, but none of them were good enough to get out of the situation. Jackson sighed in defeat, accepting the outcome.

Jackson's gaze rose to meet Samurai Heart's, and he spoke softly, "You're not going to hate me, will you?"

Heart raised his hands in surrender. "No judgement here. Not from me."

Jackson sighed once more. He explained how his quirk worked and what it did to other things and people. How over the years the number of times he had accidentally used his quirk had mounted. How it was almost villainous how many times he hard hurt people. He told him that it seemed to him that no matter what he did, someone would always get hurt because of his actions.

"…like your friend. If it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have gotten hurt like that and-"

"Wait hold on," Samurai Heart said, cutting him off, "Are you seriously blaming yourself for a kidnapping?" Before Jackson could respond, he continued, "Let me guess. Lizardo disguised himself as a homeless person and, when you got close to give him money, he grabbed you and ran. Is that right?" Jackson quietly nodded. "I know that because it's been his MO since he popped up," Heart said, "And honestly, it was because of you that we were able to finally bag this guy."

Jackson gave a blank stare. "But your friend…"

Heart waived his concern, stating, "Oh, Chameleon? He's fine. I was able to heal him up with my quirk, same as you."

It was Jackson's turn to tilt his head. "Your quirk?" he asked.

Heart face palmed. He had apparently forgotten that this was the first time Jackson had heard of him. Shaking off his dismay, Heart pulled one of the capsules away from his costume and held it out for Jackson to see. It was filled with a red liquid.

"My quirk is a little thing known as Blood Healing," he began, shaking the vial a little, "But my fan circles like to call it Necromancy. No idea why." He slipped the capsule back into place. "The way it works is that my blood acts as a sort of catalyst to accelerate healing in most living things. But I haven't always been so organized about it."

"You see, back when I first started hero-ing, I tried my luck as a rescue hero. Didn't really go so well. I wasn't exactly the best equipped, and I didn't have capsules like these. So just imagine you're some injured person on the site of, say, a car crash, and some random dude runs up to you shouting, 'Don't worry, I'm a hero,' and then he stabs himself."

Jackson snorted. The entire time, Jackson had been quietly listening to the story, unsure of when to interject. He was sure Heart was just being nice since he had told him about his quirk. But the last sentence had caught him so far off guard that he just had to chuckle. Clearly this was the reaction Heart had been looking for, as a beaming grin spread across his face. But the moment was gone, and Jackson recessed back into his murky guilt.

Heart gave his own sigh, sending his gaze skyward. Jackson was sure he had finally worn down the hero. He had finally given up on him. Instead, he looked back at Jackson and, with voice full of disapproval, said, "Kid, you've gotta stop looking to others for approval. Because the way you're going, you're never going to get it."

Jackson felt shivers go down his spine. His eyes shot so far open that it hurt. In his shock, he was only able to sputter out, "But… but my quirk…" before Heart cut him off again.

"Who cares? Sure, your quirk can, and has, hurt people. But wanna know what your quirk can also do? Help people. All quirks are like that. Good or evil, it just matters how you apply them. Hell, I fought some guy a month ago whose quirk was all about producing light. Light! The stereotypical good guy thing!"

"And another thing," he continued as his voice relaxed, "You got kidnapped by Lizardo today because you tried to do good for someone who was down on their luck, even when you didn't know them. That's all I need to know to know what kind of person you are and what kind of person you want to become."

Jackson was flabbergasted. He tried to say something, but no words would come out. Instead, he looked at his hands again. There were still faint traces of blood. "But people say I'll only end up as a villain…"

Samurai Heart clasped his shoulder. Jackson turned to the hero, looking him directly in the face. Speaking softer than he had before, Heart said, "Kid, the only person who can dictate your life is you. Even if all the world decided to say you'll just end up a villain, that wouldn't matter unless it's truly what you wanted to be. And I have a feeling it's not. So I want you to say it. Say what you want to be."

Jackson squirmed a little. He had never been put on the spot like that. Thinking back, he remembered the first time he had activated his quirk on someone and why he did so. He remembered how he had spent almost all of his free times as the years had gone by. He remembered that morning, when he had first encountered Lizardo and how he went against his own logic. It was something he had always known, he realized, but had never been able to express it…

He mumbled it under his breath.

"Oh, that won't do at all," Heart declared, shaking his head. Rising to his feet, he brushed off his costume before motioning for Jackson to do the same. Gesturing at the bay, he said to Jackson, "Here's what I want you to do. I want you to take a deep breath and, with all of your heart, shout what you want to be to the world."

Jackson hesitated. Staring out at the water, he was just now realizing how many boats were sailing then.

"Won't I be annoying people?" he asked, licking his lips.

Samurai Heart raised an eyebrow, retorting, "What did I just say, kid? You gotta stop worrying about others' approval, so say it. Say it for yourself. What do you want to be?"

Jackson was once again left speechless. In all his years of life, he had never been asked that simple question. Not by his teachers, not by any of his peers, and not even by his parents. Yet here he was, standing at the metaphorical edge of the world, being told to shout his answer which he had never been able to say. And he knew exactly what he wanted.

"I want to be a hero!"

His voice echoed across the water, and the sea answered back with the sound of crashing waves. As if by magic, that dark and dreary world that had encompassed his life vanished. In its place, it had been replaced by a shiny new one, with this one radiating hope. It felt as if a weight had been taken off of Jackson's shoulders. For the first time, he was unafraid of admitting to what his heart of hearts desired.

Putting a hand on his shoulder, Samurai Heart gave him a smile. "That's the ticket kid. Your future's looking brighter already," a curious look spread across his face, "By the way, I never got your name."

Looking up at the hero, Jackson gave his own shaky smile, "It's Jackson… Jackson Nero."

Smile returning, to his face, Heart simply nodded. "Alright then Mr. Nero, I have to be going now, Chameleon's probably been calling this entire time, and he doesn't like it when I leave him hanging. But I will be checking up on you in the next couple of days. I have an idea of a way I can help you going forward, but I'll have to see if I can finagle it." Turning away, he gave Jackson a casual salute, "Good luck, young man."

"Thank you!" Jackson shouted, waving goodbye as he quietly added, "For everything." He turned back to face the bay, as the afternoon light twinkled across the water's surface. Now was the time where he would make a change, he decided. The ghost of a smile played across his lips. He wondered what possibilities the future may hold for him.

Two days later, there was a knock at the door of his family's apartment. Answering the door, Johnathan was slightly taken aback to see a Pro-Hero standing in the doorway.

"Mr. and Mrs. Nero?" Samurai Heart began, a smile spreading across his face, "I've come to make you and your son a proposition."

A/N: Apologies, did not mean for you guys to read my One Piece fic. But if you are interested, I mean, it's only a couple clicks away... whatever, apologies again.