The_0bservanc3: It's time for the fourth special everyone! As always this does not count toward the update schedule we try to keep.
Magnus: As requested, here is a special focused on a fan-favorite couple. Nothing too deep, mind you, but some background development always helps to explain things for the main chapters.
The_0bservanc3: And that is because, as many of you have asked, the omake and specials are canon to Cursed Blood. If that changes we will let you know.
As always, a special thank you to all of our Patrons, your support means the world. Thank you to those currently named Lyruil, Laveticus, Nathan Hurley, AllAboutNothin, Henry Baumeister, EposTheta, LeafBladeFox, vividfoal817915, Aiden Vagne Brendish, tyler clifton, ATJK, SonaShot, Soltarian, Soul D Phoenix, Kyuubi, Holo1916, Carrotglace, Naes003, Mark O'Bryan, Lord Nairvehlius, Kyle Rice, Dragonin, and The GreatBubbaJ.
Disclaimer: Why do people get fooled by Pony? She is extremely cute, but she has not a single frail fiber in her tiny body. Seriously, I'm surprised her hero name isn't Minotaur!
Cursed Blood
Chapter 33.5 – A Sinister Special IV
Iron Rodeo – For Lyruil
It had been less than a week since Class 1-B had been put through the harrowing nightmare that had been their own personal 'wake-up call' test. The experience had shown each and every student a number of their weaknesses, not the least of which being their eyes had yet to be opened to the harsh realities of real world heroism. They hadn't been ready for the truth; worse, they'd been shown why they weren't ready.
And now, after days of Kan-sensei poking at their wounded egos in the most stern-yet-caring-father-figure way possible, a new type of test had landed at their feet. Taking into consideration the time they'd had to come to terms with what had happened to them, and the first rounds of their mandatory therapy sessions, Class 1-B had been told to write up actual After Action Reports. They were specifically to focus on themselves first, their shortcomings and mistakes, before even considering examining the failures of their class as a whole or proposing how they could've overcome such issues.
Taken objectively, it was an understandable move on the administration's part. It would even get the twenty still recovering students exposure to the most hated foe of any Pro… paperwork. Subjectively, however, it still stung regardless of the logic behind the assignment.
Much like their sister-class after the USJ attack, it was recommended to the members of Class 1-B to tackle the reports together, preferably with the same teams that had been formed during the test itself if at all possible.
Unlike Class 1-A, however, most of the students had instead decided to form smaller groups. The unanimous, if unspoken, ruling when the report had been assigned had been that working with classmates they were more comfortable with would ultimately be easier for them.
And then, of course, there were those who'd chosen to work alone regardless of advice against doing so.
Minami Ward, Saitama Prefecture…
In one of the relatively tiny common area plazas jealously guarded by an upscale condominium, at a simple picnic table under a tree bent with age and secrets both, sat two students of Class 1-B who'd decided to do their AAR together. To them, writing their reports with the other present had seemed like a no-brainer, considering what they'd gone through during the test.
"Ugh… this is so much harder than I thought it'd be…" Tetsutetsu groaned, frustrated at his visible lack of progress. "So unmanly. Any luck on your end?"
The 'Steel' wielder had always known that he wasn't the smartest student in his class, not by a long shot, but this report was really rubbing salt on that old wound. Writing a paper on how he felt during the test, what mistakes he'd made, really shouldn't have been so hard. At least he had the small consolation of knowing that the horned blonde sitting beside him couldn't possibly be having as much trouble as he was. At least she'd have it easy this time.
"This essay… hard," Pony replied, a frown marring her pretty face. "Can't English, wrote even."
Tetsutetsu sighed, although an outside observer would've found it hard to tell whether he did so out of continued frustration or relief at knowing that he actually wasn't the only one struggling with the assignment. And Pony's broken Japanese hardly tripped him any longer, so that couldn't have been the cause either. The manliest student of 1-B actually found her determination to master his native tongue super manly.
But really. The report shouldn't be giving them so much trouble. He, for one, already knew his shortcomings. He was bad at anything resembling tactical thinking. He was terrible at reading his opponents mid-fight, or body language in general. He was an idiot who'd gladly jump into a fire, completely forgetting that those working beside him might not be in any way nonflammable.
Writing all that down, however, in a way that was at least halfway understandable at least, was what was turning out to be the real problem. It was driving him crazy.
"Well, at least you can write out your thoughts…" Tetsutetsu said chuckling good-naturedly, trying to cheer his foreign classmate, "To tell you the truth, I can't get out ten words before stopping due to a headache!"
Truth be told, it was not the steely teen's head that ached, but his heart.
More than anything, Tetsutetsu's guilt weighed upon him like an albatross around his neck. Since the test, and even after finding his classmates alive and with no irreversible damage, he still woke up from nightmares. Reliving Pony's screams, unable to do anything but listen, was a repeating worst offender. The knowledge that the blonde's agony had been entirely his responsibility made it next to impossible for him to get any restful sleep recently.
It was all his—
"I no too…" Pony responded, breaking Tetsutetsu from his dismal, spiraling thoughts. The steely teen jerked his gaze up, seeing his report-writing partner looking away in apparent shame.
"Wait… you can't either?" Tetsutetsu asked, glancing over the picnic table to peek at the blonde's notebook.
There were less than ten words scratched out on the lined paper.
All of them were in English.
"Well…" Tetsutetsu said, trailing off. He was at a loss. He'd never had to cheer up a girl before. Hell, this was actually the first time he'd been alone with a girl in years! All his friends from his old school were sports-bros, or gym rats like him. "Er… English is… hard?"
Pony pouted—really hard—at this shaky reassurance, puffing her cheeks out and crossing her arms. She made a noise that was probably meant to be a growl, but came out as an adorable sound of annoyance.
The American-born blonde was by no means dumb, but even she would admit that the realm of academia was not her forte. She was more a woman—soon to be heroine—of action, someone who never shied away from physical hardship or injuries, who was always ready to fight the good fight. Life in her farming community had been one of the things that had opened her eyes early on to the need for people, for heroes, like her.
After all, she'd always been told that anyone who was strong and brave enough to tackle and break an angry bull singlehanded would have nothing to fear from mere villains.
That sentiment, while kind, had since proven to be far from the truth.
Sila might not have been a real villain, but the harsh proctor had beaten into her skull that there was more to the Hero business than a strong will and brute force. The masked agent had also imparted a serious lesson to her regarding pain. Electrocution… having her nerves nearly fried beyond their limit… had been an experience magnitudes worse than being thrown from a bucking bronco or head-butting a bull.
She could still feel the shocks sometimes, if she thought about it too hard.
"Why don't we take a break?" Tetsutetsu offered, noticing the troubled look that had crossed Pony's normally open visage.
Even while frowning, the steely teen thought his blonde classmate looked more alive than most of the people he saw on the streets on his day-to-day… and infinitely cuter. It was so unlike how she'd looked during the test; lifeless, dull blue eyes staring into the sky, body limp yet still twitching… golden locks soaked in red…
"Break! Yes!" Pony cheered, unwittingly breaking her classmate from his once more spiraling thoughts.
If either teen had felt like being honest, they would've had to admit that they really shouldn't have been taking breaks, especially since they'd barely even started their shared assignment. But both heroes-in-training could tell their partner's thoughts were unable to focus at the moment. It was almost as if the assignment itself was conspiring to break them.
And it wasn't necessarily losing.
"Manly!" Tetsutetsu shouted back, more out of habit than anything else. However, the silvette quickly ran into another conundrum. "So… you feeling hungry? Or… want something to drink?"
He'd forgotten he had no idea what to do with a girl alone, never mind during a break!
Snacking was literally the only thing coming to his frenetically thinking mind, and even then, Tetsutetsu almost blushed as he realized that if the two of them went out anywhere it'd look like they were on a date. Not that he had a problem with the idea of dating Pony, far from it. He'd actually love the chance to get closer to the blonde sitting with him.
But…
How could someone like him, a failure of a man, even dare to ask the person his stupidity had caused harm to?
How could he, when the image of Sila shooting Pony before his very eyes was still branded onto the back of his eyelids?
"Very bored!" Pony chirped, drawing out the last syllable. The blonde gave another mighty pout that was as devastating to Tetsutetsu as it was adorable. "Let's play! PLAY!"
Tetsutetsu couldn't help but chuckle. The blonde was as rowdy as any one of 'the guys' as he'd ever seen, much to the astonishment of any of their classmates that had been able to really connect with the American-born girl. Most had assumed at the beginning of the school year that she'd need to be treated with kid gloves; Monoma insisted she be treated like a delicate princess, the other 1-B girls always tried to orient their activities to more 'girly' topics whenever she joined them…
But the steely teen had been the first to discover the truth about what their female foreign exchange student really liked to do.
"So…" Tetsutetsu drawled, putting down his pen to stand up and back away from the picnic table. A wide, feral grin sprung to life across his face. "Wanna wrestle?"
Pony Tsunatori was NOT some delicate flower… or a paragon to old-fashioned notions of girly-ness.
She was a heroine-in-training.
An incredibly tough one at that.
"YAY!" Pony shouted, jumping up with a double fist pump into the air.
Perhaps it was due to growing up as she had, in the rough and tumble South of the United States, but whenever Pony had ever felt troubled, a good wrestle with one of her family members—since the neighbors had soon wizened up—or some animal would always do her a world of good. Pitting her strength against her Pa, or her numerous cousins, or even the newest and wildest bull had long been her go-to method of stress relief for when the world knocked her down.
It definitely never usually fixed the problem at hand, sure… but the blonde would swear to her last breath it did help. Somehow.
And luckily for her, she'd met the perfect wrestle-buddy after moving to Japan and making it in to UA.
Fortunately for said wrestle-buddy, grappling, brawling, and general tussling were all his areas of expertise. And he was always up for a challenge. Luckily for him, Pony had turned out to be one of the few members of Class 1-B that he could go all out against and not worry overly much about physically hurting.
Which was so manly.
Minami Ward, Saitama Prefecture, A Block Away…
"I have to say, what a lovely day it is to ask out such a beautiful maiden!"
One Neito Monoma swaggered down the sunlit streets of Minami Ward, a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates in hand. The blond wasn't quite sure why Americans still saw an offering of simple flowers as the correct way of requesting the beginning of a courtship between two people, but to be fair these were the same people who lived in a country that insisted it was still officially recognized as just the 'United States' instead of the 'Reunited States' as the rest of the countries of the world knew it to be.
Oh well. Foreigners.
"A walk in the park, a candlelit dinner, maybe even a stop at a confectionary…" Monoma muttered to himself as he walked, destination coming into view. "And if she's not finished with it yet, help with her assignment. I've thought of the perfect night for 1-B's princess!"
The blond and his group had finished their mutual assignment earlier that afternoon. It hadn't been an easy task, but they'd eventually stumbled upon a good enough system to speed things up. Monoma, always an expert in picking out the faults in others, had proposed he mention what he thought of his classmates to them if, in return, they did the same to him. To sweeten the deal, he'd agreed to them listing his shortcomings with no filter whatsoever.
It hadn't been pretty, for anyone involved. Hearing everything they'd done wrong from, supposedly, objective viewpoints had been painful, but the group had pushed through it and wrapped up their AARs with time to spare. Hurt and depressed as they'd been when all was said and done, Monoma's idea had still been lauded as the best and necessary one in the end.
To the surprise of all present, the egotistical blond, in a rare moment of seemingly altruistic intent, had gone on to buy the lot of them chocolates. That act had ended the taxing endeavor, and their time together, on a rather high note.
"Ugh, I still can't believe we allowed her to go off with that metal head of all people," Monoma grumbled, fixing his hair for the umpteenth time as he passed the large reflective window face of a storefront. "I mean really. Being forced to spend time with a brute like him is just something a sweet little thing like her should never be asked to do."
Having successfully finishing the class-wide assignment, Monoma had decided then and there that he finally had enough information to enact one of his long-term 'master plans.' Buying those chocolates for his group had given him an excuse to test the different brands on willing subjects, allowing him to figure out which would be the best to offer as a gift to 1-B's princess.
Kodai and Tokage, well… mostly Tokage but Kodai had eaten just as many, had without even knowing given him invaluable data on which sweets would be the best for dates, desserts, or more… private indulgences. And then, with only a little harmless misdirection and prodding, the dino-obsessed gyaru had even provided more personal 'deets' on the individual he'd really wanted to know more about.
Unfortunately, she'd also revealed the prettiest and most docile girl in 1-B, their very own princess, had been spending the whole day alone with Tetsutetsu. That little detail had irked him to no end.
"Hold on just a little bit longer my dear lady," Monoma said, adopting an overly dramatic flair as he arrived at the condominium, the castle at the end of his quest. "I'll save your delicate sensibilities from that slag-faced ogre."
To be fair, Monoma didn't hate Tetsutetsu, not at all. The teen's Quirk and steadfast attitude made him a stalwart ally anyone would be lucky enough to work alongside. But honestly? The idiot's infatuation with Pony Tsunatori was just sad. She might've only been half-Japanese, basically a full-blown foreigner to boot due to her upbringing out-of-country, but that did nothing to take away from her more positive traits. She was innocence personified, just the right level of intelligent for a proper woman, and a true beauty just waiting to blossom.
In his most humble opinion, Tsunatori would have much better luck in life if she stayed by his side. He at least had the connections to give her a comfortable life, free from the nastiness of the world. Tetsutetsu, on the other hand, would do much better setting his sights on the likes of Kendo.
It was too bad the metal head had a crush on Tsunatori, pathetic really. With all the times he'd gone out of his way to look after her, taken the time to show off his strength to her, thrown out dumb, tasteless jokes every day to make her laugh… was it any wonder their entire class knew of the silvette's infatuation?
"I mean really, how does he expect to have a chance with her?" Monoma asked the empty condominium lobby as he walked through it to a side entrance to the common area plaza Tokage had described as Tsunatori's preferred outdoor study place. "A delicate flower like her needs…"
CLUNK!
Monoma's words and thoughts died away as his brain came to a screeching halt. The scene before him was, beyond all doubt, far from what he'd ever expected to see.
CLUNK!
Tetsutetsu and Tsunatori were wrapped around each other, sitting up on their knees… head-butting each other. The entwined duo pushed and heaved, but neither could win over the leverage they needed to topple the other.
What truly drove Monoma speechless, however, was the fact that Tsunatori was standing, relatively speaking, on equal ground with Tetsutetsu… who had his Quirk active!
CLUNK!
The blond recoiled further as the two head-butted again, matching smiles wide and bright below two pairs of eyes blazing with challenge. For just a moment, Tetsutetsu faltered as his metal crumbled just slightly before he could reinforce it, but it was enough. Before either male could blink, their horned classmate had reared back and aimed for the steely teen's abdomen. The blonde rammed into her opponent with unbelievable force, shoving into the metal man with everything she could give.
"WWEEEEEEEE!"
Pony's squeal of happiness was soon followed by Tetsutetsu being raised up and sent flying over her head.
"GUH!"
The grunt the steely teen made as he slammed back first into the ground was almost as loud as the crash his metal body made when actually doing so.
Completely ignored, Monoma couldn't help but stand transfixed, utterly horrified yet unable to move.
There was no delicate flower here, no sweet princess in need of comfort or a strong guiding hand. Glowing baby, even Kendo stood out as more feminine to him at that moment after seeing that display of brute strength.
"HAHAHAHAHA!" Pony laughed gleefully as she turned and jumped onto Tetsutetsu, who'd just deactivated his Quirk in time to be driven even further into the ground. "We bonked! And bonked again! And then you fly! So fun!"
As Tsunatori continued laughing uncontrollably, Monoma easily noticed that not only had Tetsutetsu begun to laugh along with the blonde atop him, he was also hugging her.
Like a loving boyfriend.
"Of course…" Monoma whispered, stepping back and away, retreating quietly so as to keep from disturbing the two. As he turned away, he did his best to accept reality, and his defeat. "What was I thinking? A delicate flower wouldn't enter a school for heroes… How silly of me."
The laughter echoing behind him just barely covered the sound of sniffles as the blond began the long, destitute walk home.
It was all for the best, really. He was a charming prince in search of a sweet princess to woo. The farmer's daughter, the master's pupil? What would he do with that sort of match?
"There are more fish in the sea, no need to rush and risk getting bitten by eels or turtles…" Monoma said easily once back on the open street, consoling his bruised ego as best he could. "Besides, mother would surely enjoy some of this chocolate right now…"
There were tiny tear tracks running down his cheeks, and the sting of defeat in his heart, but Neito Monoma knew when he'd been beaten. Even if it had turned out Tsunatori had been the princess he'd thought her to be, ultimately Tetsutetsu was the better match regardless. If the horned girl had wanted someone she could roughhouse with, then he knew he wouldn't have been able to give her that.
He needed to find a girl who wanted someone like him…
For a split second, Monoma paused, mind whirling and sharp eyes filled with sudden curiosity.
"Perhaps Kodai would enjoy a chocolate instead?"
With that, the copycat of Class 1-B set out to create a new 'master plan.' Who knew, maybe the silent beauty was in need of a charming prince?
Magnus: Don't worry, it won't be too long before the next proper chapter. That being said, I can no longer guarantee a set schedule, so please, be patient.
Omake – Learning the Ropes – For Hades
Tucked away in their shared room at the Seireitei Institute, Junko Konno and Katsuki Bakguo relaxed together after a rather long and tedious session of group therapy. The day had been a mixed bag; the arachnotaur had made honest advances in accepting herself as still being human, and a woman besides, the more explosive blond had still struggled with fully accepting that the actions that had led him to his current situation were his fault alone and the consequences of such were his to bear.
It wasn't that Bakugo refused to accept he'd been in the wrong at all. By now he'd long since realized he'd allowed his ever-present rage to blind him at the time. Unfortunately, that didn't change the fact he still believed his actual target had deserved the punishment he'd meant to serve.
Tiny steps, as Bo-kemono had annoyingly put it. As if the giant even knew what the word tiny meant.
"Hey Match-head…" Junko called down from her nest.
As the fallen idol had long ago admitted to accepting, her body was no longer that of a conventional human's, and probably never would be again. Realizing she'd never be able to fit onto a normal bed had hit her hard at the time as well. Before he'd arrived, the arachnotaur had told the explosive blond she'd spent her days and nights curled into the corner, on the floor.
It was only at his suggestion—read shouted rebuke—that she'd even tried to make a nest of her silk. As it turned out, the resulting construct was both warm and comfortable for her… much to her annoyance.
"What is it Legs?" Bakugo replied, not looking up from where he was working away at his notebook.
The exercise, which Bo-kemono had suggested to the blond, had been an ongoing endeavor. One day Bakugo would write down one thing that he liked about himself, the next, something he didn't. Needless to say, the number of positive aspects he'd marked so far was a fair size larger than the negatives.
Remarkably, however, today Bakugo had finally realized how much of a trap self-aggrandizement truly was. What he thought of himself wouldn't change the reality of the ever-growing divide between himself and Romero. If he wanted to get stronger than that villain-in-hero's-clothing, then he needed to focus on actually bettering himself, not singing his own praises. It fucking sucked that meant really digging for negative aspects of himself, but he'd do what needed doing.
Didn't make it any easier.
"Do you really think I could be a heroine?" Junko asked, insecurity ladening her quiet voice.
While she'd made remarkable improvements since being paired with him, even the blond could tell his roommate was now enthusiastically looking forward to life outside the institute, he knew that the future still terrified her. She was a mutant in every way that mattered to those Quirkist assholes now, so 'deformed' by her Trigger-augmented Quirk that she was basically a living horror. Her dreams of becoming a world-class idol loved by legions of adoring fans was still dead, and not even knowing the potential value of her silk could alleviate that wound.
That was one of the reasons Bakugo had pushed for her to consider the path of heroics. Heroes, being public figures that were created to help people, were always a welcome sight, even the mutant ones. Being accepted despite her mutation had been a pipe dream for his roommate before his suggestion. And sure, there were still stupid fucking polls like the Heroes-Who-Look-Villainous chart, but who cared about that shit?
So why was Legs getting so bent out of shape now?
"You're fucking shitting me right?" Bakugo asked, looking up from his notebook. "You've got the best damn combat reflexes I've ever seen in our entire fucking age group, and your silk is a built in capture tool. I'd say you're already fucking ready. Just need a sexy costume."
"S-SEXY!" Junko shrieked, nearly falling out of her hammock. The arachnotaur was instantly a flushed mix of blushing elation and shivering unsettlement.
"I said you need a fucking battle costume!" Bakugo quickly shouted back, snapping back around to glare at his innocent notebook. "You need to get your fucking ears checked if you're hearing shit like that Legs!"
Junko didn't appear to look as if she believed him, certain she hadn't heard wrong, but she also didn't push the issue besides crossing her arms and giving him a look.
"Right…" the arachnotaur drawled, "Whatever. But how do you expect me to use my silk as a capture tool again?"
With a smirk reminiscent of the attitude that got him locked away in this shithole, Bakugo stood up and raised a clenched fist, fire blazing in his red eyes.
"Simple!" The blond boasted, stepping up onto his chair to be a little closer to eye-level with his roommate, "You just gotta jump on the villains, then bind the shit out of them with your silk 'til they can't fucking move a goddamn muscle!"
Junko… did not look convinced by that passionate explanation.
"That's just forceful arrest you vulgar oaf!" The arachnotaur shouted, quickly smacking Bakugo in the back of the head with one of her legs. "And it sounds absolutely horrible… for all parties involved."
Grumbling a curse under his breath, the explosive blond glared up at his roommate as he rubbed his newly smarting head. He opened his mouth to give the silvette a piece of his mind for attacking him when he was trying to give her some advice—
"Besides, I know that my silk is relatively stronger than the common variants..." Junko continued, seemingly ignoring the impotent rage below her, "…But it isn't like some sort of steel wire or anything. The threads aren't that hard to break."
And that was a fact. Junko's silk, if not reinforced or woven, wouldn't last long against any person in today's world with even a modicum of enhanced strength. Real villains, for the most part, fell under the auspices of such an overarching generalization, and the arachnotuar knew even now that if she became a pro she'd almost never know ahead of time the true hazard level of any situation she'd find herself in.
"Well then, have you ever tried fucking braiding it?" Bakugo asked, plain curiosity negating much of the sting out of his habitual vulgarity for once. "Shit, don't you know spiders kinda use a fuck-ton of silk when catching prey anyway? It's not like you'd have to settle for a single strand at a time."
Junko blinked, completely silent. Without a word, she turned in her hammock and began to rapidly-produce multiple strands of silk at once. In less than a handful of seconds, the arachnotaur turned back toward Bakugo, a veritable rope of her silk in hand. Giving the new creation a quite tug, both roommates were surprised to find that the meter long cord appeared to withstand the sudden stress much like its more conventional cousins might.
"I think… I think I need to test the durability of this stuff…" Junko murmured, raising an intense look in Bakugo's direction.
"O-Oi! Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?" the blond shouted, noticing the rather evil glint now directed at him. Abruptly, the wickedness disappeared behind a shining smile, and he froze. "Don't you dare… DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!"
Bakugo, for all that he knew many said about him, had always been recognized as being gifted with incredible battle instincts. In that moment, every iota of his being was vibrating, those self-same instincts screaming that something had for once in his life made HIM the prey.
He didn't like the feeling, not one bit.
Instantly, the blond took in the lay of the land, calculated Legs' trajectory and the angle he'd need to move to evade her. Thinking two steps ahead, he also considered the various positions he could get to that would allow for further evasion afterward.
A single shift in body weight, and the battle was on.
Thirty seconds later…
"Yep!" Junko said, grinning playfully at her handiwork, "This will definitely work!"
'This' was Bakugo, trussed up in a cocoon of braided silk with only his face exposed. The blond struggled ferociously against his bindings, but without using his Quirk he could tell all efforts to escape were going to be futile. Legs' creation had easily proven its mettle as a powerful restraining tool, easily outstripping the simple capture tape used during UA's fucking battle trial.
"Don't look too proud of yourself Legs!" Bakugo roared, continuing his efforts to escape quite fruitlessly, "I'm not done yet!"
"Feel free to struggle all you want~!" Junko teased, a hand coming up to hide her cheek-splitting grin. "OHOHOHOHO!"
It was like finding herself.
The exhilaration that seared her veins during the hunt, the buoyant feeling of superiority as she made a successful capture, the sheer pleasure bubbling through her so deliciously as she stared down at her helpless prey. It was…
INCREDIBLE.
The arachnotaur could easily see herself taking down small fry like this in the future, leaving the villains trapped and squirming until the cops came to take them away. With enough pre-made silk, she might even be able to tackle some of the more moderate threats as well!
Then, the vulgar oaf suddenly stopped his struggling.
"This…" Bakugo said, trailing off as his voice shifted to a weirdly calm tenor, "…Is actually really fucking pleasant. Why the fuck aren't my sheets made from this shit?"
Like a bolt of lightning, an entirely different sort of elation filled Junko at hearing those rough, yet completely honest, words. The spider-girl moved toward her captured roommate, a soft look upon her face.
"Want me to make you some new covers then?"
Yes, as any of those who'd ever watched the blond and silvette for any length of time could attest, the two had the strangest relationship in the entire institute.
Omake – With Time Comes… – For LeafBladeFox
Tucked away as it was in the heart of UA's main campus building, not many knew, or admitted to knowing, of the oppressive weight one could feel when sitting in front of the desk of the academy's principal. That same weight was now crushing down upon Recovery Girl and Takeo Go as the duo sat across from the hero school's infamous principal himself.
It was not, in any way, a pleasant sensation.
Not too long ago, the two medical giants had been going through a battery of tests with a sample of blood from Izuku Midoriya, the impossibly powerful and versatile first year mutant. They'd been given permission to do so due to their stated goal of only studying the teen's Quirk. However, as the tests had gone on, they'd begun to prod deeper… perhaps, too deep.
"Why?"
It was a simple question. Although, from the look Nezu was giving, the Quirked animal wouldn't be willing to accept any simple answer in return.
The doctor and school nurse pair were potentially in incredibly deep trouble. They'd been caught red-handed during their most questionable experimentation, completely forgetting that the principal of UA had complete and utter control of all security throughout the school's entire campus from his office. Turning off the surveillance in Recovery Girl's office was probably even what alerted the Quirked animal, if it hadn't been Midoriya himself, as to their illicit activities.
"We needed to know my friend. Everything we could," Takeo said, braving the silence. "A simple test proved in one go that the boy's immune system has never been exposed to any pathogen, insofar as to create antibodies, in his entire life. That's impossible! It is imperative that we—"
"Can't you see the potential?!" Recovery Girl interrupted, desperate to put aside this distraction from obtaining her goal, "In spite of the limitations it has, the boy's Quirk may well be the answer to solving the problems that have truly plagued mankind since the dawn of time! Incurable diseases, genetic disorders, pestilences in—"
"What you did in that lab amounts to the violation and torture of a sentient being for your own benefit," Nezu snapped, silencing the elderly woman's tirade. "Do you want to know what will happen if the QRA learns of your actions? The public?"
In the era of Quirks, it had become an established fact that sentient Quirks did in fact exist. During the decades routinely denoted as the 'Third Generation,' enough of these rare Quirk-types had come into existence for governments the world over to begrudgingly do something about them, or face more rebellions in the streets.
After lengthy legal processes, lobbying, marches, backroom deals, and protests from both sides, sentient Quirks were eventually awarded individual rights by nearly ninety-five percent of the world over the span of several years. These 'rights,' however, don't typically activate on a case-by-case basis until the wielder of a potentially sentient Quirk has formed a proper and officially recognized symbiotic relationship with said ability.
However, of the numerous bylaws, subsections, and amendments added to the various Intelligent Quirk Acts, the illegality of exposing a Quirk suspected of sentience to what could be considered a harrowing experience for a 'normal' human being is almost universally recognized. Punishments for such are likewise harsh and swift.
Fortunately for Recovery Girl and Takeo Go, Nezu's threat of involving the QRA was an empty one. The principal held no desire to involve the organization of idiots and hypocrites if at all possible. The idiots weren't even aware, as far as he knew, of Cursed Blood's sentience as of yet. And he was fine with keeping it that way for now.
"To be fair, the Quirk only seems to be quasi-sentient. What tests we conducted while we could appeared to show the microorganisms that constitute it don't really make decisions for their own benefit, only for their host as a whole," Takeo said, throwing out a defense, weak as it was. "I… I'm not… What I… I mean that…
The giant of a man quailed under Nezu's vicious glare and fell silent once more.
"Nezu… try to understand. This is important," Recovery Girl tried again, putting as much of her decades of experience behind her words as she could, "That boy's Quirk can bring back any living organism to perfect health, even from the brink of death, so long as its brain retains its original polar ionization. Do you understand what that means? An end to every cancer! A cure for every insidious disease too smart for modern medicine! Re-grown limbs for heroes and civilians alike who suffer from villain attacks!"
Takeo nodded along, still silent, as his co-conspirator begins to passionately expound the virtues of the research they were doing. At the moment, he'd agree to anything his mentor said because he didn't really care for many of her reasons. The only thing that mattered to the giant of a man was that ultimately, studying this accursed Quirk would allow him to gain the required data needed to free his child.
"We're not talking about draining the boy dry, Nezu, or forcing him to sacrifice his livelihood or time in any way," the large doctor added during a moment where Recovery Girl had to pause to take a few deep breaths. "We only need to understand how the microorganisms work. If I can do that, I can program my nanomachines to replicate their functions exactly!"
The principal of UA couldn't help the long and tired sigh that escaped his muzzle. On the surface, the two overzealous idiots in front of him seemed to have meant well, their goals entirely virtuous. Too bad for them he was smarter than the average mammal.
"Takeo-kun…" Nezu said, sadness mixing into the annoyance that had colored his tone thus far, "No matter how much you find the reality distasteful, nothing will ever change the fact that your child died. In the same vein, nothing will change that her existence is now tied to Midoriya's. You need to accept this."
It was a cold, callous fact. By now all involved could understand to various degrees that the verdanette's Quirk had etched itself into the very essence of the cutest and littlest zombie girl. Removing the link between Lily and Midoriya now would, if anything, erase what was left of the bluenette.
The tears even now pricking at the edges of Takeo's eyes hinted at the fact the father knew deep down that this was the truth of things.
"And Chiyo. Have you forgotten the immortalized proclamation that kicked off the final push that saw most countries in the world establish firm pro-sentient Quirk laws?" Nezu asked softly, feeling a sickness in his small stomach as he looked at his longtime colleague. "Don't you remember, 'For if we accept that it is our sentience that gives us our inalienable rights, then so too should any sentience be granted those same rights'?"
The affirmation was a popular saying nowadays, paraphrased of course, and one of Nezu's personal favorites. He and his rescuers, all those years ago after his liberation, had used it as a strong foundation for his case against the scientists who'd tortured him with their inhumane Quirk experiments.
It was also tied quite closely to the reason why the Quirked animal tried so hard to keep Recovery Girl on as a permanent fixture of his academy.
"What a load of tripe!" the elderly heroine in question harrumphed, discontent apparent on her wizened face, "Whoever said that obviously had no idea what they were talking about. And they clearly never had such an opportunity as this at hand!"
Takeo fell forward, his chin almost hitting Nezu's desk in shock at that declaration.
The Quirked animal himself was unable to stifle a gasp at his old friend's words. A shiver ran down his spine, and his hackles raised instinctively.
"Chiyo…" Nezu whispered, barely managing to find his voice or the courage to speak, "You said that. Those are your words!"
Silence.
Takeo and Nezu both were now tensed, waiting uneasily to see how the elderly heroine would handle the revelation. Would she shoot a snarky comeback? Launch an argument?
"R-Really?" Recovery Girl murmured, looking down with a heavily furrowed brow. "I never… when—"
It was more than enough of a response for Nezu to leap into action.
"Chiyo," the Quirked animal barked, jumping up onto his desk, "You're going to Rishi National right now and getting a full medical checkup. You are forbidden from returning to your duties until I have a group of trusted medical professionals sign off on your bill of health."
Recovery Girl harrumphed once more, clearly disagreeing with the orders, the gravity of the situation, and Nezu's severe reaction. However, there was little for the elderly heroine to do against it. If the rodent wanted to waste valuable time she could be spending curing the world of sicknesses then that would be on his head, she supposed.
Takeo, at his mentor's side, placed a massive hand on the old nurse's tiny shoulder, a silent indication that the giant of a man would physically carry the woman to the hospital if need be.
As Takeo and Chiyo left his office, Nezu cursed himself for allowing this development to occur. Years of relying on Recovery Girl, one of Japan's top medical professionals, to perform her own health checkups had finally backfired. Clearly somewhere along the way the heroine had begun to fudge her results, perhaps even because she had just enough vanity to find being reminded of her advanced age distasteful?
Regardless of the reason, the world for Nezu had just shuddered on its foundations.
Something was terribly wrong with Recovery Girl, and he had no idea how long it had been going on.
Or how bad.