"There're only canned foods here, and the fridge's virtually empty. Should I be concerned?"
Henry glances at Himiko, whose gleeful smile never appears to leave her face, then back at the open cabinet, one of the several which he checked the content inside them. Needless to say, the man does not personally like what he is seeing at the moment. He has nothing against canned food. They can be just as nutritious as fresh and frozen foods; a stable for working and lower classes families. Not to mention they are perfect for people who cannot cook very well.
As for him, how to put this properly? His inner cooking soul, along the years working in eateries and restaurants are, well, begging him to rid the canned food and fill the fridge asap. Though, to be fair it is just his habit when it comes to cooking, prioritizing on fresh ingredients and all, on top of all the not so pleasant experiences eating canned food. The tastes were... horrendous.
Then again, Japanese canned foods are said to be in a league of their own. Furthermore, there is no place that sell fresh stuffs at this late hour, and he does not like to take chances to go outside and risk getting caught while the search is still packed with heat. No need to paint a bigger target on his back for no reason. For now, simply lay down and wait. Patience is a virtue after all.
Nonetheless—
"Mama dearest did say to be always grateful for what I have," Henry muses and turns to Himiko. "I know they're your foods and all, but want to join me for the late dinner?"
Himiko opens her mouth. She then quickly closes it, then shuts her eyes and tilts her head while she makes a thinking pose, humming to herself. Soon, with her eyes open again, she beams broadly and answers Henry's question with an eager nod.
"Sure!"
In response, Henry slightly curves the corners of his mouth upwards, rolls up both the sleeves of his newly-changed crew-neck shirt and gets to cooking, even though he is closer to cooking the rice and reheating the canned food.
Moments later, with Himiko helping him setting the table, the duo's diner is ready to be consumed. Delectably set of cooked and fluffy rice with mouth-watering grilled salmon, stir-fried veggies, pickles and pleasantly-fragrant bacon miso soup for each of them. His stomach emits a low growl as he takes his seat, eliciting a giggle from Himiko as she follows suit and sits opposite him.
Henry opts to roll his eye at her teasing smirk, and gets himself comfortable on the chair. Before he digs in, however, Henry remembers where he is in and touches both palms together. No matter the place, a good table etiquette with basic grasps of the local culture always goes a long way.
"Thank you for the meal," Henry mouths softly.
At the same instant, Himiko finishes muttering the words, prompting the two to finally dig in.
With the chopsticks in his left hand, Henry begins the meal with a piece grilled salmon in his mouth, chewing and savouring the surprisingly aromatic buttery that is often found in freshly-grilled salmon. A small smile appears on his face as he adds the rice into his mouth to mellow the rich sauce, before he sips the hot soup and releases a contented sigh.
Hearty food does wonders at warming one's soul after a long and tired day, which is what he needs at the moment.
"I wish there were blood to go with dinner," Himiko moans, as she takes a bite at the fish and seems to ignore the vegetables all together. "But the food is still good though... Just need some blood."
Henry chuckles. "If you like blood that much, next time when the heat dies down, I'm going to buy some pork blood curds and cook them in a bone-based soup. Sounds good?"
Immediately the girl's eyes brighten. "Really!? You mean it?"
"You did provide me with food, so I ought to return the favour," Henry says. "Also, now that we're staying together now, I figured I might as well prepare proper fresh food, and save the canned ones for later uses. Furthermore, I personally like cooking."
Himiko's beam widens. "You're the best, Henry!"
No more my love? Henry internally raises a brow, though promptly ignores it as he spots her beam slowly fades. "What's the matter? Isn't blood your favourite?"
"I don't have any money left, though."
"Ah, that? It won't be an issue," he assures. "At the moment, we have enough money to last around two generations should you and I spend it wisely."
"We... do?"
"This is my place, remember?"
"Oh." Himiko makes a sound.
"Speaking of this place, you were sloppy, young miss."
"Sloppy?"
"You didn't lock the garage door."
Which Himiko simply beams and scratches her cheek. "He he~. Oops?"
"Yes. Oops," Henry deadpans and exhales. "Either way, be more careful next time. What if I came here with malicious intents? You mayn't be so lucky next time."
"But you won't do anything to me, right~?"
Henry promptly pays no heed to the girl's suggestive grin, much to her disappointment. "In any case, you ought to eat vegetables. Don't skip them," he reminds with a stern gaze, "especially when you're still in your growing up phase. Wouldn't want anything go wrong, would we now?"
"But they taste bad~!" Himiko whines and crosses her arms. "Besides, nothing bad is gonna happen if I skip them, right?"
"Aside the increased risk of chronic disease, possible bowel troubles, potential nutrient deficiencies, and more importantly, weight gain, dry skin and hair loss? Sure, go ahead. Skip your vegetables."
Almost promptly, Himiko turns blanched with an unpleasant mental image within her mind, before she pouts and averts her gaze with a grimace. "Fine... I didn't realize my love is such a killjoy."
Ah, there it is again.
Henry simply smirks in return. "That's what you get when you live with me. When I feed somebody, I'm going to feed them properly, even if it means making them eat something they hate if it is healthy for them. But worry not. Eating veggies can be an exciting venture if you know how to prepare them. Which is why I'm here, aren't I?"
Himiko stares at him for a moment, as though searching something from him. Then, she giggles with a bright beam. "The food somehow tastes better today," she whispers as she cups her bowl of bacon miso soup and takes another sip.
"Well, they say food tastes better when you prepare and share it with somebody else. Perhaps that's the case?" Henry suggests with a wholehearted grin. "What do you think?"
A bob of her head seems more than enough for a reply.
The duo continues their simple meals, occasionally chatting with the girl attempts to flirt him, though they all end with no success. Shortly with their bowls and plates empty, Himiko takes up the duty to clean the dishes, something she usually did as the eldest child of the Toga household after the meals before that incident. Despite the brief icy look on her face at the mention of her family, she dismisses it rather quickly before returning her usual beam.
Henry says nothing as Himiko skips to the bathroom to take a bath before her beauty sleep.
Presently, the clock is reaching 2:00 AM. Henry sits before the computer, with the light of the screen reflecting in his eye. A noticeable frown on his face. And his attention? The public records of "Hero Public Safety Commission" themselves.
And boy do they raise some flags.
"They're all clean," he concludes after reading through the online documents, with his gaze gradually narrows. "Too clean for an entity which oversees and manages every licensed hero in Japan... to the point it makes no fucking sense. You're telling me there are no bad apples, like none at all?"
Henry scoffs. Nearly a century after the regulation of Quirks and the dawn of Pro Heroes, and there are frankly no cases of heroes who tried to abuse their powers and fames to ever exist, or those who crossed the line? Especially in an era when being a hero is a career? Especially when these are people who wield powers that can easily take lives?
Such a thing is unrealistic. Whilst it is good to have the mindset to try and see the good in the people, one also needs to learn to acknowledge the darkness in them.
As Abram Lincoln once quoted: Nearly all men can stand adversity. But if you want to test a man's character, give him a taste of power.
After all, the temptation of money, fame and power are hard to resist. Henry might personally have no need for such trivial things—not really including money since it is important—but he has seen how they, especially power, destroyed many of his old friends, or brought out their true colors.
Most were put down by his own hands.
"...A bunch is marked as missing, though." Henry comments before closing the windows displaying the documents, and leans his back to his chair. "Yeah, not buying it. Though, it is odd. Why go such lengths to obtain this kind of spotless record?"
Without a doubt, people would start to question. Humanity and corruption have always been a pair from the very dawn of men. The HPSC cannot guarantee every hero has good intentions the moment they entered this line of work. It is simply common sense if one stops and thinks about it.
"Then again, no one's going to question if the information is controlled correctly."
Rolling his neck, Henry pulls up a list of ranked heroes for the third time of the day. He is tempted to look through their records a little more thoroughly, aka accessing files that are not available to the public. Though, with no idea how much things have changed and improved over the past 100 years, including the net security, that kind of things, hacking into the HPSC's system might not be that great of an idea. That, and the fact they might not even be there in the first place—who in their right mind would keep the deepest and dirtiest secret in something that is hackable?—the notion does not seem to really worth it.
The old-fashioned way it is then.
"I'm going to need my suit for this," Henry says to himself with a sigh. He pulls out a map and types in the address. "Let's see. It's still there. Let's visit it after a few days, when the heat cools a little. For now..."
The sound of running water stops. Henry promptly closes the windows, not before giving the ranked heroes list a quick glance. Aside All Might, the number 1 hero in Japan, who truly exudes the heroic air like Superman, his eye is drawn to the person just below the man. The number 2 hero.
Flame Hero: Endeavor.
"His gaze," Henry utters, "it reminds of my younger self."
It is not meant as a compliment.
That being said, he opens a window with images regarding a certain Rabbit Hero as the door to the garage opens, revealing a freshened up Himiko in her nightclothes with her hair down. Still with that beam on her face, the blonde-headed teenage girl quickly latches on his back, arms wrapping around his neck, and rubs her cheek against Henry's affectionately.
"What're you doing—" Himiko pauses the moment she sees what is on a screen. An uncharacteristic deadpan expression replaces her beam. "...Really?"
"Not going to lie, as annoying as those vultures can be, some of them know how to take great shots," Henry remarks as he eyes the booty shots of the current 12th ranked hero. "Large and rounded ass, well-endowed bosom, beautifully toned body—especially with those thighs that could easily squeeze my life out—while wearing the leotard which nicely compliments her feminine charms and shows off the right amount of thickness? She has another fan now."
How he is able to say all this with a straight face, he has no bloody idea. Admittedly, he would love to tap that. Though, they do say not to stick your dick in crazy, and the Rabbit Hero definitely gives him that kind of vibe.
Then again, blessed be the battle freaks, not the war mongers.
And he wants to sleep on them thighs.
That said, are those ears and that tail real?
"Why won't you look at me that way~?" Himiko moans with a pout. "Am I not beautiful?"
"That statement would put me in jail where I'm from," Henry says dryly. "And no. Japan is a breed of its own, so it doesn't count. And also, no. You're beautiful, lass. Frankly well-developed for a girl your age. I'm sure many'd love to court you once you grow into a fine lady."
"But I don't want others. I only want you~."
"Well—" Henry ignores her flirty gaze and rubs his eye "—be that as it may, it's already late, and both you and I need our beauty sleep asap."
"Boo~," Himiko protests, though continues to hold onto Henry as he shuts down the computer and stands up, which she promptly locks her legs around his waist. For a moment, however, she puts on a thoughtful face and bites her lower lip. "Hey, Henry... can we sleep together?"
Seeing the look on the girl's face, the kind which kids use when they want to share the bed with their parents, Henry exhales and ruffles her hair. "...As long as you don't do anything funny, sure."
"Yay~!"
"Now get off me! You're not a monkey, for God's sake."
"Don't wanna~."
A quick light-hearted wrestling match later, Himiko yawns as she sits on the bed and waits for Henry to switch off the light and head to the bed. She lies down and scoots over a little, making some space for him as he lays down next to her. A little cramped, but manageable. She turns her body and faces him with a small smile, promptly holding his arm.
"Henry."
"Hmm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
Henry tilts his head to her. "Uh-huh. What is it, lass?"
"What were you doing before you ended up in the bank robbers chase at downtown?" Himiko asks with an obvious curiosity.
"...Tying up loose ends while trusting the wrong person."
"You were betrayed too?" Her grip on his arm tightens lightly. Her voice is low. "Did it hurt?"
"A little bit," Henry admits. "Though it wasn't the first, nor will it ever the last time I'm betrayed. So, yeah. I am kind of used to it, seeing it'll only hurt myself in the long run. It's not worth it."
"I won't knife you in your back, Henry. I promise."
Which Henry smiles softly. "...I know."
"Still, are you gonna be alright?" She looks concerned. "Your face's all over the Internet now."
"I'll be fine," he assures. "I'll just wait for a few days, then pull a Clark Kent."
"Clark... Kent? Who's that?"
"You'll know when the time comes."
"Umu," Himiko purrs. "What're you gonna do now?"
"...For now, you and I need sleep."
Himiko says nothing more, simply nods and yawns once more. She shifts on the bed and gets closer to him. A few locks of her hair fall on her face as she stares at him tenderly.
"Sweet dreams, my love~. Thank you for everything."
I didn't do anything though. Henry chuckles. "Good night to you too. Now sleep."
Moments later, Himiko already let out soft snores, seemingly deep in her sleep while Henry remains awake and stares aimlessly at the ceiling. The girl's last question hit home more than he anticipated. As the hectic day is closing to its end, the reality of his situation slowly hits him.
Now that he is in the future, what is he going to do?
Sure, help Himiko, retrieve his stuffs, investigate the HPSC, then what?
"...For the time being, sleep first." Henry sighs, yawning as he slowly closes his eye. "I'll just figure it out once I get accustomed to this new life."
Before he gives in to his slumber, his mind wanders and pauses at the image of the current 3rd ranked hero in "The Hero Billboard Chart JP."
Equipped Hero: Yoroi Musha.
"Is he the same Yoroi I know, or somebody else? No way he lives that long, right?" Henry questions himself before he shuts his eye, heaving a long sigh. "Either way, I still left a message in his number. Don't know if he still keeps it, or that's even him. Guess I'll have to wait and see then."
Shortly afterwards, the darkness embraces him.
Henry wakes up as his ears pick up a whimper. Rubbing his face, the man looks to the clock hanging above the computer. It is almost 5 in the morning. He stifles a yawn, feels the shirt sleeve dampened. He promptly turns to his side, only to see Himiko silently sobbing in her sleep. The tears escape her eyes with no sign of stopping. Her body slightly curls, as she holds his arm tightly.
"Mother... father... brother... sister..." she cries quietly. "Please don't leave me... d-don't walk away... What's wrong with me liking blood...? I don't understand..."
Her body tenses visibly.
"N-No... I'm not a demon child, mother... Please stop..."
Henry exhales before enveloping her in a hug as he turns his body to her. The man tenderly brushes the blunt bangs to the side and plants a soft kiss on her forehead.
"Just a nightmare, lass. Everything's fine now."
Himiko stops crying, her body relaxes. She becomes quiet again.
No more nightmare comes to plague her as the girl holding tight to his arm.
As the morning sunlight finds its way through the paper window, Yoroi Musha finds himself awake at the reverberating crow of his favourite pet rooster.
A small yawn escapes his mouth as he gets up and stretches his body. Though, he soon grunts, and clutches his side as it emits an audible crack.
"Oh, my poor, poor back," he moans, his voice deep and rough, grunting as he rubs his sore spot.
A few moments later, the bearded man manages to get himself up. The morning routine begins with the elder hero exits his bedroom and heads to his front yard. He takes in his breath deeply, fills both lungs with the crisp morning air. Shortly, he takes off the upper half of his brown kimono and ties it around his waists, uncovering the scars-packed shredded body with his arms extending, as he allows himself bathed in the sunlight with his eyes close, his breaths even.
Fifteen minutes later, he drops both arms and rolls his shoulder blades. His pair of pale orange eyes with black sclera opens once more and turns their attention to his pet rooster. Chuckling, he leisurely makes his way to the rooster, along the way picks up some seeds.
The rooster delightedly has its breakfast before nuzzles its head against his palm as a gesture to thank the old man for feeding it.
"Let's have another productive day, shall we, Tadeo?" He smiles fondly.
Yoroi inhales and exhales deeply, preparing for his morning exercise. 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, 100 laps around his house, and 100 sword-swings. All are diligently done by the time the old man strikes the training dummy one final time with his training wooden sword. He sighs and puts away the weapon, wiping the sweats off his forehead.
A quick cold shower and breakfast later, Yoroi sits before a shrine. His eyes close. His legs cross. A tachi is placed on his lap. All the while he meditates and finds his inner peace. A ritual of sort before he becomes Japan's 3rd ranked hero, The Equipped Hero.
Just another day.
...
"It's nothing personal, old friend."
"Captain, no—!"
The accursed machine activated. And the next thing Yoroi knew, he was no longer there. When he looked at the pool of blood on where his Captain was lying down, Yoroi realized in horror...
...he arrived too late.
...
Yoroi opens his eyes and exhales. Despite it is almost 100 years, the memory of that very day remains fresh in his mind. A stain in his memories which he can never erase, no matter how he tries.
That day he failed his friend and his mentor.
That day he failed himself.
The damned treachery... Yoroi never saw it coming.
The hero calms his mind and casts a reminiscent gaze at his weapon once he opens his eyes. At the same time, he traces his fingers along the surface of the curved single-edged blade with a slight frown appears on his face.
"A hero..." Yoroi says to himself. "How could I even call myself one if I couldn't save him? Just how much longer will I be able to keep this farce going? I'm not a hero. I... I am tired. I want to join them soon. But I cannot leave my responsibilities here. I just..."
Yoroi shakes his head. His gaze hardens.
"Focus. Get yourself together," Yoroi reprimands himself. "You know why you're doing this. You're still the 3rd ranked hero of Japan. People are depending on you to keep them safe, Yoroi."
Rising to his feet with his tachi in his hand after slapping his cheeks, Yoroi swaps his whole attention to the imposing dark samurai armor standing next to the shrine, as though guarding it, with red cape hanging over its shoulder; the helmet noticeably has a large horn pointing upwards.
Soon the elder hero clads himself in the said armor, and wraps the red cape around his waists. One final check over his equipment, including the tachi, he deems everything is good to go.
However, before he can finally get to work, a notification rings in his helmet's HUD, gaining the old man's attention.
"Better not be those reporters and their questions about the new vigilante again—"
Yoroi stops in his track as he spots the numbers with wide eyes. A familiar row of numbers.
"I-Impossible...!"
The secured line which he and his Captain used when they were still active. His heart starts beating faster, faster. Then he opens the voicemail while gulping a lump down his throat.
"Long time no see, old friend. I see you're still alive and kicking."
"That voice..." Yoroi whispers, unaware of the tears that are forming around his eyes, as he shakingly drops his tachi to the floor. "It's his voice. B-But how... how is this possible?"
"Since you might be afraid this line is already compromised, or somebody using my voice, I'll only share one thing we Task Force 404 know. Eastern Berlin, 1982. 7 dead. 1 crippled. 3 alive. The latter 3 are us and... James. Is the bastard still alive?"
"It's really him."
There is no mistaking it.
"OUR CAPTAIN IS STILL ALIVE!"
Yoroi's thunderous roar allegedly wakes everybody in the neighborhood up soon afterwards.
Somewhere else, at a certain headquarters of the Police Force, detective Naomasa tiredly kneads his temples while staring blankly at the stacks of documents before him. The target of his headache? A new player has joined the game in the role of a Vigilante, who perchance poses a higher threat than the Hero Killer.
The same vigilante who somehow managed to evade the entire police force and several of the best pro heroes who specialize in tracking while he looked like he was on the verge of dying.
The good detective grimaces. The bank robbers. Simply put three of them are hospitalized in critical dangers and the leader of the band, having his hand blown off by a shotgun, is already showing the signs of a deranged mind. Whenever the subject regarding that vigilante was brought up, he would scramble from his seat and curl in the corner of the interrogation room like a cornered animal.
What is more, he has no idea who this person is. The DNA from his blood which he obtained from the scene held no result. CIA, Interpol, so on. Nothing came back positive.
Is it possible for somebody who seems to never exist to just pop up out of nowhere one day? The notion makes little sense to Naomasa's detective mind.
And his ungodly bloodthirst...
"—IS THAT WHAT YOU ARE TELLING ME, IGNORING INNOCENT PEOPLE, IGNORING A CHILD WHO WAS ABOUT TO GET SERIOUSLY HURT!?"
Even from watching the recorded video, Naomasa shudders and gets goosebumps all over his arms. If he is already like this, then what about those who were right there and experienced it?
When a veteran like Midnight trembled when he asked her about him, how did others fare?
And her answer for his question?
"I saw no man. That was a monster hiding in man's skin through and through."
Naomasa sighs grimly.
"...Regardless, despite the good intentions, and ignoring his bloodthirst, he still broke the law," Naomasa says to himself. "I intend to catch you, whoever you're, vigilante. You can't run and hide forever."
The hunt of the newest vigilante heads into its second day.
