For Henry, there are always two consistent themes in his life.
The amount of backstabbing that he had to deal with, and for some unknown reasons almost every woman whom he has come across was, and is, either crazy or downright insane.
His current opponent is no exception when it comes to the latter.
Mirko launches an unhinged back kick to Henry's chest, sends him flying through the roof, skipping across it and finally coming down to the ground level once more. The Rabbit Hero follows with one enormous leap, straight to where he just landed.
The grey-haired man springs to his feet, dodges Mirko's steel-plated rabbit-themed boot. Splinters of wood bump his face as the room-sized crate behind him literally explodes the very moment her foot hits the wooden surface. Another duck to avoid a flying front kick, this time the Rabbit Hero's toned leg goes through a concrete column and its steel frame like a hot knife through butter.
Rubbing his neck, still feeling the inhuman strength from the earlier kick while taking a glance at the destructions the rabbit-themed heroine left in her wake—id est approximately half of the warehouse is already reduced to a nigh-unsalvageable wreckage—Henry is certain Mirko tops the list. Hell, they have been going at it for some time and she is nowhere near to being winded.
As for the tied-up thugs, he almost feels sorry for them. Getting caught in this fight while being unable to move an inch is going to be an unpleasant and unforgettable experience for them, considering all the ruinations happening around them, but by the time this is over, it will definitely make the bunch rethink all of their questionable life choices.
That being said—
"Christ, woman. You're out to arrest me, or kill me?" Henry deadpans. "Moreover, these things that you wrecked, you certain your wallet can handle the compensation? Heroes are supposed to pay for the damages they caused by themselves, yes?"
"You don't have to worry about that!" Mirko roars, employing a missed axe kick which trembles the earth and creates a massive crater where Henry stood before he leaped out of the way. "Worry about your ass getting kicked instead! The so-called Blood Demon I'm facing is nothing but a coward who only runs! Midnight and the media sure love to overexaggerate things, don't they!?"
"B-BLOOD DEMON?!" one of the thugs shrieks hysterically. "That same Blood Demon who scared Midnight shitless a few days ago?! The second coming of Hero Killer?! Fuck! We're doomed!"
Henry's eye twitches. "For God's sake, stop calling me by that bloody name—!"
Widening his eye, Henry bends his body backwards, his legs in a perfect 90-degree angle, to hardly evade a roundhouse kick. The blow misses his head, yet it cuts his chin wide open and draws blood. Mirko broadens her crazed smirk, repositions herself and twirls her other leg, in this instance hitting her mark and launching Henry across the warehouse.
Stacks of crate go flying the moment his back crashes into them, with the man groaning while laying on them and pushing out some that got on him. He let out a cough, touching his side, feeling at least one rib is cracked. If it were to aim at a normal person, it would have been death.
"LUNA BULLET!"
Henry snaps his head to one of the still-standing columns. Mirko hardens and bulges her leg muscles noticeably before she crouches and propels towards him, akin to a bullet. The Rabbit Hero flips her entire body midair with her leg extended and her heel comes plummeting squarely to his body in a speed no normal person can hope to track.
"LUNA FALL!"
As his eye mirrors the nearing plated heel, Henry flattens his gaze. "Seriously, what's with you heroes and announcing your super moves out loud anyway—"
Thick dust screen envelopes what is left of the warehouse, with an ear-piercing thump fills the air the moment Mirko's heel connects.
Himiko jumps across another rooftop, holding the suitcase tightly to her chest. She pants lightly, her hot lungs asking for gulps of air. Yet she ignores them and presses on instead, for she is not going to betray the trust which he placed on her in order to keep this suitcase safe and sound. But for all that, somewhere deep within her, Himiko cannot help but grow more worried as time passes.
Dread slowly swells in her heart with each minute goes by.
Unlike those thugs they took down together, his current opponent is a full-fledged Pro Hero. Not just any Pro Hero either, but a violent rising star who travels across Japan to beat villains up left and right with a wild streak of sending 95% of her cases straight to the hospital. His Healing Quirk may be one of the most overpowered abilities she has ever seen, but a pro is called a pro for a good reason.
Of course, Himiko is well-aware Henry can handle himself just fine. That kind of ruthless display of efficiency which she got a glimpse of is what only the top tier Pro Heroes can achieve, taking on your enemies readily and mopping the floor with them. A one-man army in its purest form.
Having said that, Himiko finds it hard to view the situation positively when her beloved is left alone to confront a Pro Hero who is reportedly going to have a spot in the ranking of top 10 and cementing her position as the strongest female hero, all the while she is running away; and it hurts.
Despite her mind is saying her she is just doing what she was told, Himiko herself already knew the painful truth the moment Henry threw the suitcase to her and told her to get away. Against the likes of the Rabbit Hero, she is going to be nothing more than a liability.
A deadweight.
It hurts, knowing that she will not be able to help the person whom she holds dear, despite him only living with her for a few days, yet already treating her better than her so-called family.
Himiko bites her lower lip. "I hope nothing's gonna happen—"
The surface underneath her vibrates. She stops in her track, sensing the pit in her stomach as the girl turns around to face the port, where she already put a good distance between, eyes wide.
Her arms tremble, almost dropping the suitcase. But she manages to steel her nerves. But at the same instance, it appears as though her worst nightmare just becomes a reality. She needs to go back. She needs to help him. She needs to—
"No. I gotta trust him!" Himiko chastises herself. "He already gave me a chance to flee. I can't botch this time. Going back is just gonna ruin everything we... he worked for."
In spite of what she said, Himiko cannot help but think she is already betraying him by leaving him to fend for himself. After all, what kind of person leaves their loved one behind like that?
Yet...
"Argh! This is so infuriating!" Himiko stomps the rooftop, clutching the suitcase even tighter. "Going back or not going back, I'll be damned either way!"
She lowers herself to a squat, hanging her head low. "What... do I do...?" she mumbles to herself, as a driblet of blood drops from her lower lip to the ground. Tears gradually forms around her eyes. "I don't wanna to disappoint him by going back. But every step I take, my heart hurts more and more. What... What should I do now?"
"You can start by returning the Flowing Tigers what you stole."
With her ears picks up the footfalls approaching her from behind, Himiko brushes off her tears with her sleeve and straightens her back as she stands up. She turns back, now facing the people who are emerging from the shadow of the night with her entire body tensed. 4 men and 1 woman, and all of them have their gazes on her and the suitcase.
"Boss doesn't like it when others touch his properties." One steps forward from the said group, both arms spreading to her sides as a bone blade protrudes from the back of her hands. "And since you're having his property, you already know where this'll be going, right?"
Realizing the situation which she is in, Himiko reaches her twitching hand to the knife sheath on her thigh, unconsciously leaking her killing intent to the ones whom she presumes to be reinforcements that were meant for the earlier thugs, whom she and Henry took down, if something goes south.
Need to kill them. I need to kill them before they— Himiko pauses, recalling the promise they made together the first day they met. No, I promised. I won't kill... but he said nothing is wrong with hurting others when I have to defend myself. But if I move too roughly, I might break the syringes and vials in the suitcase. Then—
"Drop dead, foolish girl, for our boss' sake."
—let's get outta here fi—!
Before Himiko can shift, the woman's bone blade is already centimeters before her left eye. As both her eyes slowly widen, her pupils shrink. It is almost as if time itself slows down. Then, her entire life flashes before her eyes.
She has read articles about near-death experiences, and many of them said one same thing, that their brains would projects their life in only mere seconds. Yet to experience this for herself...
Fear.
Her instincts scream. Her heart drums in her chest. Her body is frozen stiff.
Move!
Cold eyes seemingly have no problem with murdering a minor bore into Himiko's bright yellow, as the long bone blade is now only a centimeter before it pierces her left eye, then her brain next.
She is going to die.
She is going to die.
She is going to—
I don't wanna die.
Then, the next thing Himiko is aware, red blood is smeared across her face, which follows by a thud. Everything turns eerily quiet all of a sudden. Himiko blinks, wide-eyes gaping at the bleeding stump where the woman's hand was still attached to her arm. Was, as the said hand now lays on the ground, spills its red blood on the ground.
The rest of the group are startled, though quickly compose themselves. Yet, before none could even move, their heads slowly slide off their necks. The horrified realization on their faces become evident, apparently unaware of what transpired. Then, their bodies separate into parts, before long collapses to the ground like falling Jenga towers; their horror-struck expressions linger on their faces, even until the light in their eyes fade, dead.
The woman has her head around and watches everything happened in one second; a realization hits her and it hits hard. She turns back to face Himiko, only for her color to drain as both eyes land on the bearded figure cladding in samurai armor and towering over the petite girl.
Glowing eyes stare at her, as if judging her for every sin she committed.
As for Himiko herself, she is all too familiar with this pressure, one that she encountered many times before meeting Henry, one that always disrupted her while she was busy beautifying others with their pretty red blood. Without turning around, in her mind Himiko already knows there is only a person in Musutafu who can exude this kind of choking air that has caused countless criminals and villains bend their knees before the thought of fighting him even crossed their minds.
When the hero society frowns upon the notions of killing villains, despite it is necessary occasionally, he embraces it with a simple smile and open arms. When most heroes shy away from getting blood on their hands, he is the only Pro Hero who publicly dirties his own hands to get the job done. When heroes try their best to keep their positive images, he only has this to say:
A hero who only cares about money, their image and what others think should just quit.
If All Might is the very definition of the "Symbol of Peace" itself...
...then this man behind her is Death himself.
The most controversial and effective hero in the history of Pro Heroes, The Equipped Hero: Yoroi Musha joins the fight tonight.
A fight which already ended the moment the elder hero made his presence known.
Understanding of the fate waiting for her, the woman simply let out a hollow laugh, as Yoroi Musha regards her with his infamous indifferent and unnerving gaze behind his mask.
"Heh... And they call us villains and monsters."
As soon as she finishes, the woman's upper body explodes into pieces, as though it was put through a shredder, with her intestines pouring out all over the rooftop. The lower half twitches, before both knees give in. What is left of her drops to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
"We're all monsters here. Just the different kind of monsters," the deep and rough voice says behind Himiko, resonates without being loud. "Good Heavens. We haven't met face to face for... some time and he already asked a favour from this old bone. Honestly. Though, them Flowing Tigers bastards already stooped this low over some Triggers."
"...Are you finally here to kill me?" Himiko questions after a moment of dreadful silence.
"Heavens forbid, no!" Yoroi Musha laughs jovially as he steps forward, into Himiko's view, with her casting a wary gaze at him, holding the suitcase closely. "I might be the worst of the worst scumbags we've ever produced, but there are lines I do not cross... unnecessarily. Killing you, Toga Himiko, a child, is one of them, as it achieves nothing in the long run."
Unnecessarily.
That very word vibrates in her mind and sends chilling shivers down her spines as she eyes the elder Pro Hero in his full glory under the moonlight.
Himiko gulps. "You didn't... give me that kinda of impression in previous encounters."
"You were hellbent on killing those people. I had to scare you. You thought I'd stay still, particularly after you seriously injured bystanders in two separate occasions?" the Equipped Hero asks casually, though the look he is giving her seems to say otherwise. "Hmm. You do feel different this time. You weren't this scared the last time my blade was close to your throat. Now you're acting like a girl your age should. Living with him is already doing you wonders, huh?"
"...I don't know who you're talking about."
"And loyalty too," Yoroi remarks, stroking his beard. "No need to play dumb. Henry and I are close friends. Brothers-in-arms once, in fact. Furthermore, he asked me to keep a close eye on this part of Musutafu while both of you were having fun busting the Flowing Tigers' little Trigger deal with Shie Hassaikai."
Himiko, in returns, blinks, understandably surprised. "Y-You and Henry? And he did...?"
"He knows I know Musutafu and how the gangs and yakuza here operate better than he does. Them Flowing Tigers always put a team of skilled members waiting nearby, in the case of something doesn't go right." Yoroi chuckles fondly and rests his hand on the hilt of his tachi. "Troubles always somehow find him. He thought tonight may be no exception, and he is right. But we did not expect it was that hotheaded child instead of Flowing Tigers' reinforcements."
Which Himiko instantly remembers something important as she faces the port's direction.
"That's right! Henry!" Himiko exclaims. "He's still down there facing Mirko—"
"Calm down. I assure you he'll be fine."
"Fine?!" Himiko cries. "That's the candidate for the strongest female Pro Hero he's fighting against! How the fuck am I supposed to calm down, old fart?!"
In response, Yoroi Musha only blurts a wholehearted laugh, further angering Himiko.
"What's so funny?! Your close friend is in serious trouble and you're laughing?!"
"No. Not like that," Yoroi explains, as he composes himself, clears his throat. "No offence to Mirko, but she is 100 years too early to stand a chance against him."
"...You've gotta be kidding me."
As the dust screen is gradually blown away by the winds, a drop of sweat trail across her face as she amazedly smirks with a tiniest hint of nervousness and witnesses one of her most devastating attacks in her arsenal is nonchalantly stopped by a hand, one which belongs to the man who seems unfazed and is staring at her with a deadpanned stare while laying comfortably on the crates.
The said disbelief turns into alarm the moment he lightly tightens his grip on her heel. Mirko backs off instantly, putting some distance between the two. She looks at the spot her heel was grabbed. Her rabbit instincts, for the briefest moment, went haywire.
That little voice in her head. And her legs, are they quivering?
This bastard... He's bad news. Mirko grimaces. My body knew... My survival instincts knew... I can't let him walk freely. Nemuri wasn't exaggerating when she claimed he's a monster in a man's skin.
The Rabbit Hero shakes her head, steeling her nerves as she returns to her fighting stance; her earlier thirst for a satisfying battle—that adrenaline kick which she has been seeking ever since her debut as a Pro Hero—is now replaced with the utmost seriousness to stop this looming threat that is in front of her before it truly becomes a menace to the society.
Gotta finish this quickly before he—
"Bollocks. You just ruined the braids the lass worked so bloody hard for," Henry remarks. He stands up from the wreckage with his Viking-braids becoming undone, exhales. "Say, can't you just let me go? After all, I did you a favor by busting a drug deal, didn't I?"
Mirko huffs, smirking. "Not happening, pal. You're a vigilante, a fugitive, while I'm a hero. I have a job to do as a hero, y'know. Nothing personal. Besides, I ain't seeing any drug here. You're affiliated with a villain too. That naturally makes ya someone that must be taken down."
"Can't blame a guy for trying." Henry shrugs, rolls his neck. "Still, a villain, you said? That lass? For a hero, you're surprisingly shallow. Is kicking asses the only the thing you know?"
"Yeah! I'm gonna kick yours soon, Blood Demon!"
"Right then," Henry deadpans. "I have a question, if you don't mind."
"Last words before going down?" Mirko scoffs. "Go ahead. Stall as much time as ya like."
"Your Quirk is Rabbit, right?"
"Right."
"It gives you attributes and traits of a rabbit, right?"
"Right."
"And, uh, once rabbits enter heat for the first time, it becomes a loop that never ends, right?" Henry wonders with a knowing face of realization. "Does that mean even right now, you're horny—"
"Okay, stop right there!" Mirko demands, her face glows, her rabbit ears slightly droop and flatten to the side. She grits her teeth and sends him a glare. "Goddamnit! I knew sooner or later someone's gonna ask me this! And why do ya even wanna know, ya pervert?!"
"I don't know." Henry shrugs. "Because, let's be straight, who wouldn't want to pound that big round ass you always proudly show to the world in that skimpy leotard? Even now, I'm debating between just getting it over with and bringing you to some love hotel to thoroughly savour every inch of your delicious body, and thinking about taking this seriously when there is nothing to gain from roughing up somebody who's keeping the folks around here safe."
Mirko drops her jaw in disbelief, gradually becoming a blushing mess, at the complete shamelessness that Henry is displaying.
"You have no idea how horny your fanbase, both men and women, is?" Henry asks. "For a woman whose body makes countless women jealous and God knows how many jerked off to it, you're quite innocent in this regard. Better not to read some of the 'comments', for your sanity."
Henry closes his eye, still keeping the sly grin, as he hums.
"Maybe that explain your love for big fights. From your point of view, what is better than distracting that particular itch by letting that adrenaline kick take over? And those raging hormones during your teenage years too? Huh. Now I actually feel bad for you. You had it rough, didn't you?"
"...If riling me up is your goal from the beginning, then ya succeeded," Mirko growls, partially keeps her blushing under control but not completely, balls her hands into fists. "Because I'm gonna enjoy pummeling ya to the ground, you perverted, lecherous bastard!"
"Said the one who wears the costume that basically shows her bare ass to everybody. See them over there, those thugs that we caught?" Henry points to the tied-up thugs. "Some've been ogling at your ass the entire time, lass. From the moment you made your entrance until now."
Getting caught red-handed, some of thugs avert their gazes, sweating like bullets as the Rabbit Hero turns to them with a glare that darkens her entire face. Veins visibly pulse on her legs.
Henry, deciding he already has enough fun, chuckles and clears his throat. "Alright. No more fooling around. I did say I have a question."
The easy-going air surrounding him bit by bit fades, once again places Mirko and her rabbit instincts on edge. Henry rubs his neck, reaches his hands into the pants' pockets.
"Judging from the look you gave the lass earlier, I reckon you're already aware who she's, yes?"
"The middle schooler who attacked her classmate and primary suspect of two assaults with intent to kill. Everyone in the hero community knows who the little she-devil is."
Assaults with intent to kill, not actual murders? Henry muses. Then again, she did get a little annoyed when I asked her about the people she killed again, said some old fart in samurai clothes always got in her way during the climax.
"Then you're aware of the fate which awaits her the moment she's caught?"
"Most likely thrown into Tartarus," Mirko replies, grows irritated. "Just spit it out. What're ya getting at? Or will ya just shut up already and fight?!"
"...You're saying you're absolutely fine with throwing a 15-year-old teenage girl who is barely holding herself together, whose mind and soul are on the verge of breaking because of something she cannot control, in a place that was once accused of severe human rights violations in the past?"
Amidst Mirko's rising anger and embarrassment from the earlier unanticipated topic, Henry's words hauntingly vibrate in her ears. Japan's number 12 hero's body stiffens, and her eyes grow wide.
"I see."
"Oh, dear. That's the expression I haven't seen awhile," Yoroi remarks, with his gaze remains on the port, more exactly the live feed from one of the working CCTVs in the warehouse displayed on his helmet's HUD.
Standing right next to him, Himiko cannot help but ask despite her apparent wariness of the number 3 Pro Hero, "What is it, old fart?"
Yoroi strokes his beard, hums thoughtfully. "To simply put, Henry's not a fan of HPSC's decision to hand you a ticket to Tartarus and Mirko's concurring of it."
Hearing no response, the elder hero glances to his side, notices her expression. "Tartarus...?"
"Don't be too surprised. Have you any idea how many people you've hurt, and how close you were to actually murder two of them?" Yoroi states bluntly. "In HPSC's eyes, that alone already made you a dangerous individual. If they say you belong to Tartarus, most heroes will not question. And when somebody does, however..."
Yoroi Musha clenches his jaws. His mind flashes the broken image of a girl with dark blue hair and numerous scattered pink streaks beaming broadly right next to the elder hero himself in his everyday attire, who puts on a goofy grin. Both make their peace sign fingers in front of the camera.
"I should've stopped her that day," Yoroi rumbles under his breath. "I should've realized something was up when they suddenly approached her with that offer."
Himiko hesitantly pokes his armor. "Hey... old fart. You doing okay there?"
"...No, I am... not." Yoroi loosens the grip on his tachi, having it grasped and tightened without him realizing. "We should return to your place. And yes, I know where it is. More Flowing Tigers should be coming our way. I dislike pointlessly dirtying my blade with pests."
Shivers travel down Himiko again, but she still obliges and follows behind Yoroi as he starts moving, while praying for Henry's safety.
"S-Still, shouldn't we stay? What if he needs our help?"
"He will not. He's going to make another stop once he gets his stuffs, then he'll return home," Yoroi states, then hums. "I wonder how much that child's grown since the last time we sparred."
"Who?"
"The Rabbit Hero, Mirko," he replies. "Now let's go. Try and keep up with me if you don't wish to stay a deadweight to him any longer, going by how difficult it was for you to decide to whether continue running with the Triggers or coming back to help him, Toga Himiko."
Himiko gasps. Her face is as red as a lobster. "You HEARD all that?!"
"All of that."
"I-I frigging hate you, you damned old fart!"
Soon after, both disappear. True to the elder hero's anticipation, the Flowing Tigers' reinforcements turn up to the scene moments later, only for most to vomit left and right upon witnessing the horrid ends of who were once their fellow gangsters.
For the more experienced members, in spite of their discomforts, they know this kind of scene pales in comparison to The Equipped Hero's usual works. And that their Boss has no other options but to accept the loss this time.
Everybody with common sense knows you do not chase The Equipped Hero.
"Well, thinking about it is not going to change anything," Henry says, paying no heed to the Rabbit Hero's realization. "As you said, you still have a job to do as a Pro Hero, which means arresting her and me. On the other hand, I wish to reform the lass. She being in there isn't going to help it. When interests don't align, conflict is unavoidable."
Emerging from the pants' pockets, Henry's hands come equipped with a brass knuckle on each. He slightly clenches his hands, getting the feel of the familiar cold metal. Mirko, meanwhile, shakes her head out of her thoughts, tenses her body as she spots Henry throwing some practice swings.
"Since you love fights so much, let's talk with our fists. Or rather my fists and your legs. Forasmuch as it's a fight that you wish—"
In a split second, Henry appears before Mirko with his left fist raised, aimed at her body. The Rabbit Hero herself instinctively plants her feet firmly to brace the imminent onslaught. Cold eye stares her down unnervingly, causes her rabbit instincts to go haywire once more.
This is not a man that she is standing before.
"—it'll be a fight that you get."
Oddly enough, the gaze she is receiving is similar to the one that her idol gave her many years ago, when she naively believed she could take on the 1st generation full-fledged Pro Hero in a spar.
Mirko holds in her saliva, simultaneously an indescribable pain courses across her body, eyes bulge. Her body feels the full impact of the metal that is being drilled into her side, her liver. Henry retracts his fist, revealing the mark carved into her skin, the area around it slowly turns purple.
The heroine staggers, yet remains standing straight. Gritting teeth, she answers with a kick to his own side. Yet he catches it and throws a cross squarely to her cheek. She grunts, her instincts issuing her to step back, create some distance between them.
However, Henry grips her long hair before she could even move, delivers a knee to her chest, knocks the air out of her lungs. Then, another fist to her liver. Mirko spits the saliva mixed with some blood, dazed. Her ribs are completely shattered from the second punch.
"Either cut your hair, or simply tie or braid it. In the army, we once forced, and now encourage the ladies to do that because we don't this to happen to them."
She falls to her knees. Her head hangs low as saliva and blood drips off her mouth, staining the floor under her. Her body fails to listen, feels as though a truck just ran over her.
"You know who's the real villain in the lass' case?" Henry suddenly questions, with the Rabbit Hero looking up, weakly facing him. "The people who forced their norm on her, made her wear the mask that held back her emotions, her desires. Harmless desires, mind you. And guess what? Those pieces of shit happen to be her parents. Everything that she did, all those people that she hurt, it all started from them. They should be held responsible, not her!"
Mirko narrows her eyes, noticeably snarls. Gathering the rest of her weakening strength while biting her teeth to ignore the excruciating pain, she seizes a considerable number of debris and dusts, then throws them straight at his face, blinds him. With a roaring battle cry, Japan's number 12 hero springs to her feet and, in a feat of pure strength, twirls her body to deliver a midair roundhouse kick to his temple. The strength behind the kick creates an air blast that conjures a massive dust screen.
The kick connects. Yet Mirko feels no assurance, but instead her rabbit instincts are screaming even more at her. And to her horror, despite the kick indeed connects, it hits Henry's palm, not his head. Grasping her ankle, he practically slams her to the ground. She let out a pained gasp as she bounces to the air like a ball, unable to control her body.
Glowing amber eye stares straight into her. "Over 10 years pretending to be someone she is not—all to please the damned adults—while holding back that little voice in her head, begging to have a little taste of blood. It didn't have to be human blood. Can you imagine the damages it caused to her mind? It's a fucking miracle she didn't snap sooner."
Henry hardens his leg muscles.
"And the worst of all, she never wanted all this," he says coldly. "Every night, she cries in her sleep, asking why they'd not accept her, why they'd call her a demon child."
The man unleashes a shin kick to her body as Mirko falls, sends her soaring across the air, skipping across the floor and finally stopping when her body smashes into a pillar. Coughing up blood, Mirko drops face-first to the floor, barely breathes, her blood dips from the corner of her mouth.
Henry calmly walks to her and ignores the petrified looks on the tied-up thugs.
"Whenever I look into her eyes, all I see is an overwhelming desire to love, to be loved and accepted by who she is. All this should've never happened in the first place," Henry says, removing the brass knuckles and putting them back into the pockets. "Then again, her parents are merely the result of... what our world has come to. After all, when instead of giving her the help she needs, it opts to throw her to the side, ignores the core problems like why villains are appearing more and more every day, by judging she's dangerous enough to be sent to Tartarus."
Henry rubs his knuckles, rolls his neck.
"Have you wondered how many more Toga Himiko are being made everyday because of people like her parents, this society as a whole? Heroic and unheroic Quirks? Since when did we let them define ourselves instead of our actions? Don't get me started on how the Quirkless are being treated."
Realizing no reaction from Mirko, Henry raises a brow and gently nudges her. Before long, he shrugs and turns around, ready to retrieve what he came here for.
"Where... do ya think you're going...?" Mirko suddenly grabs his ankle. "Ya... bastard... I was... only getting... warmed up..."
"Of course you're still awake." Henry chuckles. "Wouldn't be Japan's number 12 hero if you cannot even stay conscious after a few blows, would you now?"
"FEW BLOWS?!" one of the thug cries. "You literally beat the daylights out of her, you monster!"
"It's not that bad. You morons haven't seen what my friends could do, if they're still alive."
"YOU SAYING THERE'RE MORE MONSTERS OUT THERE LIKE YOU?!"
"If they're still alive." He sighs, looks to Mirko. "And you. Hand off the boot, please."
"Ya... getting nowhere, bastard..." Mirko slowly lifts her face up, directs her burning gaze to Henry, and weakly smirks in a true defiance manner. "You might be... right... But I... ain't letting her to be... anywhere... near a monster... like ya... I'm lacking... as a hero... But if what you said... was true... then I'll find her and... show her... there's a better path... than the one she's taking..."
"To truly help her, or bring some peace to your mind, knowing how such a fucked-up thought never once crossed your mind, Rabbit Hero: Mirko?"
"...Both," Mirko admits, chuckles bitterly. "Both... Blood Demon..."
Henry only stares at her, says no word. Her grip on his ankle gradually weakens.
"...Not afraid to speak the mind and admit one's blunder. Rare to find these days," Henry comments, his ears pick up the distant police sirens. "That's my cue to leave. Sleep. You'll feel better once you wake up. I promise."
Struggling to keep her grip, Mirko slowly closes her eyes, unconscious. Henry notices no sign of her waking up any moment. He kneels down and takes out a crimson vial from his coat, giving it a good shake. Rolling and letting her lay on her back, he cradles her head, pours the serum into her mouth as he gently rubs her throat at the same time.
Before long, the bruises on her body begin to fade into nonexistence, with the exception of her side, where her liver is, as it simply turns less purple and into a color that somewhat resembles her healthy skin. Humming, Henry gives himself a nod and softly ruffles her rabbit ears.
"Let's meet in a better circumstance next time."
Rising to his feet, the man fixes his clothes and begins walking to a specific direction. Arriving at his needed spot, he scans the floor, his foot moves the debris out of the way. He taps his foot on it three times, before a slit materializes and two doors open.
As blue light comes to life, Henry grins. "Daddy's home, my precious princesses."
To say the HPSC is in an uproar is a severe understatement. The man whom they dubbed 'Demon Blood' has resurfaced after days of hiding with a new arm, and laid waste on Japan's number 12 hero.
As many people voiced their opinions about placing a vigilante who only showed off his out-of-this-world bloodthirst and took down a bunch of third-rate criminals in a situation the Pro Heroes could have controlled in a rank similar to history's most dangerous villains, now all their previous opinions take a rough turn after watching the live CCTV footage they retrieve from the warehouse.
Needless to say, it was no longer a fight when he pulled out the brass knuckles. Before they are able to know what happened after he kicked her across the warehouse, the CCTV goes offline.
At the moment, many high-ranking members of HPSC are currently in a heated meeting, discussing mainly about the new player while showing concerns about the Rabbit Hero's state.
Hiroto Hatsume is not one of those people, however. Despite the concern he is showing on his face, it is an entirely different story internally. The glasses-wearing middle-aged man only makes comments here and there, nodding along several suggestions on dealing with Blood Demon.
As the meeting reaches its end, he excuses himself first, claiming he is already exhausted after a long day of endless work.
The said excuse is easily bought.
Sighing, the Hatsume's patriarch turns off the meeting's hologram and stretches his body. He closes the computer and gets up from his chair, leaving his office in HPSC's main building. Nodding while greeting the few who remain in the building this hour, instead of heading to the elevator, he takes a turn to the men's bathroom.
Hiroto splashes cold water across his face, taking in his breath deeply. He then proceeds to dry both hands with his handkerchief, then cleans his glasses.
At the same time, a figure cladding in a dark armored suit materializes behind him, being reflected in the mirror as the process takes place. Before long, the figure towers Hiroto. The blue glowing eyes stares at him in the mirror, unmoving.
"You took your time," Hiroto comments simply as he puts on his glasses.
"You know who I had to deal with," the figure says, his voice is filtered. "You must be the one whom good old Yoroi mentioned in our conversation. You have no idea how surprised I was."
"So did I." Hiroto chuckles along with Henry, as he turns around to face him with a smile. "Welcome to the place where the greatest scam of the 22nd century started, great-grandfather."
A/N: Didn't expect to see this many people reading this fic, tbh. Anyway, thanks for reading :D
