[Vol 1 – 4 – A Meeting of a Lifetime – Part 2]
Cold. It was always so cold. She didn't remember a time when she wasn't cold, shivering either out of fear, the cold, or both.
Usually, it was both.
She couldn't remember a time when she wasn't shivering in fear, nor when she wasn't so, so hungry. Eri didn't want to go back to that lab—that hell she called 'normality.' The last thing she wanted was to feel the cold steel of that sharp knife cut into her skin, drawing her blood, leaking into a bucket so that man could make more of those crappy bullets.
And then, once she was shivering just before going into shock, he would hit her with his Quirk and start it over again. It went on for hours and never stopped until seven buckets were filled. But no matter how many times she went through with the hell she called her day-to-day life, she could never get used to it.
Her life existed in one solid loop, a loop that was, by all means, simple, but torturous. Wake up, rewind the apple, eat the apple, use the bathroom, go with Chronostasis, get hurt for the "project's sake" then go back to the room, rewind the apple, eat the apple, sleep, repeat. It was a simple cycle, and for a while, she tried to bear with it.
The keyword being: "tried."
It didn't take long for Eri to understand that it was never going to end. What was worse was that she knew that she had no power over anything. Her Quirk was a curse, she hurt people with it, and that was her purpose in life—to hurt people. That man once told her that doing this would stop all of that, but that was slowly becoming more or less a disingenuous lie the more he told her.
The only good her Quirk did for the world was making those bullets. She would never amount to anything more after that. Once that man was done with her, Eri was sure that he would use his Quirk on her and never repair her again, leaving her a stain on a wall for the rest of time. It was that paranoia that prevented her from sleeping during the night, only passing out after her stomach continued to growl at her and eventually knock her out.
Her own body hated her. How sick was that?
What made it worse was that everyone in the organization her Grandpa ran—used to run, he was dead, because of her, that was what that man told her—hated her. She was seen as a pest. Sometimes, the guards would enter the room just to beat her for no reason. Sometimes they'd do worse, and they would force her not to say anything because, they said, and she remembered it too, that no one would believe her.
Not that she understood it herself, all she knew was that it hurt, and that's all that mattered to her.
There was a part of her that believed that she deserved this. That she deserved this suffering. After all, had Papa not disappeared, none of this would've happened. Momma wouldn't hate her, and Papa would still be around. Unfortunatly, that reality only lived in her dreams. And as she knew, Dreams didn't exist, and would never come true.
Not for a cursed being such as herself.
And then, one day, she saw an escape, a way to run away. For whatever reason, Toya Setsuno, a man who worked for that man and occasionally brought her toys to play with, scooted her guards away and left the door open just a crack. She could remember the look in his eyes, an almost pleading look like he was trying to tell her to run.
And so she did. He didn't report it until she was spotted on the video cameras. After that, several thugs chased after her. Her desperation outpaced her reason, and she left the building, running as fast as she could, even in the pouring rain of Esuha, she didn't care. She didn't care how wet her clothes, bandages, or skin got. She just needed to run.
She remembered outpacing them, outrunning them, ducking into the alleyway nearest to her as soon as she could before tucking herself between a giant green bin and a few black bags that smelt horrible—worse than her room—and kept silent for hours. She came so close to passing out all by herself, alone, tucked away between a smelly bin and a bunch of smelly bags, that she had been convinced that she would be found eventually.
She didn't have the energy to run anymore. She didn't have the energy to speak. She didn't have the energy to open her eyes. Eri eventually let her body begin to shut down, just like it normally did, but before it did, she felt someone scoop her up, and then begin to run—she knew because of how the wind was hitting against her face—and used as much energy as possible to open her eyes to see who it was, praying that it wasn't one of those mask-wearing workers that he used to capture her whenever she did escape.
Instead, Eri was met with a set of purple eyes, purple hair, and a worried expression on her saviour's face. A face she would never forget. She heard the shouting of those men and thought it to be all over. But then, something happened. She couldn't quite remember what the boy said, but whatever it was he had said caused black wings to sprout from his back, and then, he jumped up and began to fly. She watched as the wings would flap, mesmerized by them and their movements.
She remembered gripping on as hard as she could to his shirt, panicking when she looked down, realizing just how high up in the sky they had been. She could see the city below her, and for a second, time seemed to stop.
It looked so beautiful. The outside world was sparkly, it was flashy, and it looked like something she would see on the small toy boxes she kept in her room. Her saviour stopped at some points, grabbing something out of his pocket, saying something her ears couldn't hear—which was weird, she usually could—and then he continued flying.
He stopped again when someone else with red wings showed up, but they flew away after a few minutes. It was around that point when her strength started to fail her, her saviour looking down at her again, making a strange expression, then flying faster—urgently, she knew that look on his face, fear, and she didn't know why he was so scared, so afraid. She also distinctly remembered that her vision was failing her at the time, so seeing was becoming an issue at that point.
The next few seconds were a blur to the little girl. He stopped, she felt something against her back, and then a new voice came up, his voice left, and then she passed out. She thought she would never wake up, but when she did, she heard the familiar sound of beeping equipment and thought that it had all been a dream. But when she opened her eyes, she was met with an old lady taking off her bandages, an old lady she didn't recognize.
She wore a white coat—just like Chronostasis, but shorter, white hair like him, but done up differently and without those two arrow things. She had a red and white outfit underneath the white coat, and she had a weird device over her ears and a yellow visor. She looked small, maybe a bit taller than herself, but not by much.
"Oh! You're awake, good," the old lady said, a strange expression on her face as she brought something close to her skin, then she felt a stabbing pain for a split second, then it stopped. Eri looked to the vial, seeing the familiar colour of her blood once more, fearing the worst, only for the old lady to walk away, placing the vial in a machine.
The old lady stared at it for a few seconds, a small frown on her face as she did, then proceeded to take out a now-empty vial, then began to type something on what appeared to be a computer. "Iron deficiency… Vitamin C and Vitamin D deficiency… Calcium deficiency… Protein deficiency. Pretty much every vitamin in your body is deficient, except Vitamin A, which is a bit surprising, but it's hardly the point. Young lady, you're lucky to be alive right now. If Mr. Oma hadn't found you, and I hate to be blunt, but you would be dead," the old lady said, walking over to her using what appeared to be a cane made to look like a needle.
Eri couldn't help but stare, not speaking, mostly because she didn't have the energy to do so. The old woman raised an eyebrow and seemed to catch on rather quickly that she couldn't talk. She was about to say something when Eri's stomach roared like a hungry beast. "Would you like something to eat?" At this, Eri nodded repeatedly, practically begging with her eyes going wide, which seemed to concern the old woman. "Alright, hmm… would you like Mr. Oma to bring it to you? The boy who brought you here," the old lady asked as Eri nodded again, rapidly, which drew yet another strange expression to the woman's face.
It didn't look like it had any malice drawn to it, in fact, it looked… reassuring. Cheerful. It was the same expression that her saviour had when their eyes first met. It was good. It was nice. She liked it. For a second, she tried to mimic it, but she felt herself falter, which caused her to stop.
She wasn't strong enough. Her stomach growled again, and that was when the old woman turned to her desk and walked to it, grabbing a similar device that her saviour had. She stood there for a few seconds, then, she spoke. "Mr. Oma…? Oh, were you asleep? My bad, deary. I just wanted to tell you that the little girl is awake, and she wants to see you…. Ah, great! Oh, but before you go, do you think you could get her something to eat? A peanut butter sandwich should be good enough for her, seeing as she is so… everything deficient, the last thing I want is for her body to reject the food…. Great, see in a few deary."
The old woman took the device away from her ear, then made that same expression from before, covering her mouth with her hand before making some sort of noise—laughter, Eri heard the guards do it when they… 'best not to think about it.'
"He'll be here soon. If I were to guess when… I'd say he'll be here in a few minutes," the old lady said turning around to face her computer, stopped, then made a sudden movement with her head, which caused Eri to flinch ever-so-slightly, then turned to face her. "Oh, It was rude of me to not introduce myself. Call me Chiyo, deary. What's your name?" the old lady, Chiyo, asked, as Eri frowned, looking down at her legs.
"Eri…." The white-haired girl muttered, looking down at the scars that riddled her legs. A sudden urge to touch them racked her mind, as, slowly, she outstretched her longest finger. The finger traced over one of the newer scars, a stinging sensation warping through her as she recoiled. Due to it being new, the skin was still fresh—still sensitive. She lurched her fingers back, wrapping her hands around her sleeves, keeping her head down.
Chiyo hummed, looking at her with a bit of a concerned expression. "Well then, Eri, Mr. Oma will be here soon with something to eat. I—"
Chiyo was interrupted by the door smashing open, which made Eri jump, metaphorically speaking, causing her to curl into herself, only for her eyes to see who it was who knocked open the door, allowing her to relax ever-so-slightly. It was Mr. Oma, a big, bright, cheerful expression on his face as he walked through the door holding a plate of food.
He wore the same thing he did when she last saw him—a white sleeveless shirt, black shorts with big socks that covered up to his knees, though this time he wasn't wearing those shoes. She also noticed that his hair was a little messy compared to last time, and he had small brownish-black things under his eyes and the same expression on his face that Chiyo had a few moments ago.
"Mr. Oma! You are lucky I do not have any other patients, or else I would have reprimanded you more harshly! Although, you did scare the little one, so you should at least apologize for that!" Chiyo said, nearly bopping him on the head with her cane, only to avoid it.
"You're going to have to try a little bit harder than that, Chiyo," Mr. Oma said, looking over to Eri. "That, and I would not want to drop the food I made for the little kid, you know?" Mr. Oma continued, walking over to the bed and placing the plate of food on Eri's lap.
"Heya, kiddo," the purple-haired boy said, hopping up onto the bed, and sitting just on the edge. His hands touched the blankets, gripping them as he leaned forward, all the while looking at her with his big purple eyes. His legs swayed forwards and backwards, before looking out the window. "It's the middle of the afternoon, you know… 4:30 PM. I was getting sleepy and nearly fell asleep before Chiyo called me. Guess it's your lucky day, am I right?" Mr. Oma said as Eri looked down at the plate, grabbed the food, and immediately began to eat it without any hesitation. Mr. Oma snickered, before putting a hand on her head, his fingers seeping into her hair as he began to ruffle it, making a mess out of her nice straight white hair. It caused her to flinch slightly as he rendered her hair a mess.
Mr. Oma took his hand away, slowly, a small frown on his face. "You keep flinching… what's up with that? Something bad must've happened to you,… right…." The boy asked, though his energetic tone of voice quickly died, and his eyes widened, which caused Eri's blood to run cold.
She quickly realized what it was that caused him to lose the happy look in his eyes, her hand unconsciously going over her forearm. The boy was looking at her arms, and his eyes seemingly shrunk. "Oh… oh my…!" Mr. Oma began, his mouth slightly agape with shock and horror before he immediately closed it shut, covering his mouth.
She forgot that she had no bandages on them—the scars. Eri looked into his eyes, and flinched again. She could see it, the anger, an emotion that she had seen time and time before. She quickly looked away, glancing back at her arms, and immediately was reminded of the scars.
The scars were a reminder. A reminder of where she came from—of what kind of monster she was to have deserved them. They looked like indents in her skin, most were thin, and some of them were bigger. Some were long, some were short, but all of them meant the same thing.
"Who did this to you?" Mr. Oma asked though it came off more like a demand. The anger was still deep in his eyes, yet restrained. Eri didn't answer, she simply looked away. She had expected him to lash out, get angry at her for not speaking, but instead, he simply took a deep breath, then sighed. "It's fine if you don't want to tell me yet. But I can't let this go unpunished. I can't let whoever did this to you to…." He stopped himself from talking, keeping that restrain that he had in his eyes.
"Mr. Oma, I believe you should head back to the dorms," Chiyo spoke up, catching her saviour off guard. Mr. Oma nodded, looking back to Eri, then ruffled her head again. He put on another one of those expressions, the anger in his eyes fading away. He jumped off of the bed and walked out of the room without so much as a word of goodbye. The door closed behind him, a silence trailing after his departure.
Eri stared at the doorway where Mr. Oma walked through. She felt something sting in the corner of her eyes. She felt… confused. Why did he leave like that? She was used to that scathing look that Mr. Oma had in his eyes. She had seen it many times before.
She just didn't expect it to come from him. From her saviour.
"Does… does he hate me?" Eri said, abruptly, causing Chiyo to spin around in her chair with a frown on her face. Though unlike the majority of frowns Eri saw before, this one was different. There was no disappointment behind it, no annoyance behind it—it was just a regular frown.
"Now, why on earth would you think that, Eri?" The older woman asked as Eri looked down at her arms, and hugged herself, her grip on herself tightening as she stared down at herself, small tears forming in her eyes.
"He… he looked at me, then he made a mean face, and left without saying anything…. That means he hates me, right?" Eri asked, which made the older woman to get off of her chair, walk over to her, lift her cane, and tap the white-haired child on the head, causing her to wince.
"You need to get that idea out of your head right now, young lady. Just because Mr. Oma is mad at what happened to you, does not mean he is mad at you. He's mad because he cares about you, if he didn't, he wouldn't have brought you here," Chiyo said, patting her on the head, her frown lessening. "I didn't mean to be so blunt, but I'm serious, little Eri. He doesn't hate you, if anything, he's frustrated at himself for not noticing. I may not have known the boy for too long, but I think it's safe to say that he has a heart of gold. He wants to help you, so please, don't think he hates you."
As Chiyo kissed her on the forehead, Eri felt a wave of… something, wash over her, and she became sleepy, really sleepy. As she laid down on the bed she now found herself on, she could only think of Mr. Oma. Her Saviour.
Even if their interaction was cut short, Eri took everything he said to heart. Although in the back of her mind, she wondered what it was he was going to say before stopping himself….
xxXXxxXXxx
Kokichi entered his ho—the dorms—slamming the front door behind him when he entered. As soon as he entered the building, he marched over to the couch and muttered something under his breath. A drop of blood and a heart palpitation later, he picked up the couch, lifted it over his head, and with a mighty roar filled with rage, he chucked it out of the glass windows, a loud shattering sound reverberating.
Snapping his fingers, everything glowed in a bright blue aura and returned to where it belonged as if nothing ever happened at all, then, he double-clapped, removing both effects he had applied to himself, that being "having super strength" and "the ability to reverse my actions."
Needless to say, Kokichi was not in a good mood right now. He didn't even know the girl's name—something he'd have to rectify soon—and never, not once in his life, had he ever been this OUTRAGED in his life. Sure, he got heated when Gonta had forgotten about himself murdering Miu in the VR world, and he got REALLY pissed off when Sanjuro, a member of D.I.C.E., had drank all of his purple Panta—let it be known that if one is to touch his grape flavoured anything then they would pay dearly—but all of that was irrelevant.
Those were first-world issues. Issues that could be resolved easily. But this? It was wrong on so many levels that Kokichi had a hard time comprehending how someone could do that to such a young girl.
Those scars… the utter amount of them, it was appalling. Many people would quite easily write the purple-haired boy as an uncaring psychopath, but he was anything but that. He cared about people, he just didn't show it in direct ways. But for a little kid, he'd change his tune almost instantly. And especially if that kid was abused.
Kokichi knew the kid had to have some sort of rough life when he found her in the alleyway being chased by those thugs, but that didn't mean he had expected all of those scars. And from all he knew, that was simply just the tip of the iceberg if the malnourishment was anything to scoff at.
The way she ate that sandwich, and how wide her eyes had been when he had actually delivered the food spoke volumes as to how she lived her life before, and he really couldn't quite call that living, now could he.
He had to physically stop himself from lashing out in that room. He had to stop himself from screaming in rage at the top of his lungs within that room, where that poor, innocent, little girl was. Just the thought made him physically ill. What other horrors had that kid endured? "On second thought, I don't wanna know…" Kokichi thought, sitting down on the very couch he previously chucked out of the window.
He laid his head back against the couch cushions, sneering, staring at the black screen of the T.V., looking his reflection in the eyes and thinking the very thing he stopped himself from saying in that hospital room.
"I can't let whoever did this to you remain on the streets for any longer… I'll make sure they can never hurt you, ever again… permanently…." Kokichi thought, his anger reaching a boiling point again, right before he pushed it back down. He was furious, that he couldn't deny. He knew something lurked under those bandages, but that? Who the fuck could do that to a kid her age?
Actually, he knew exactly what would do that to such a little kid, because that thing could not be called human. Whatever did that to her was a monster who thought themselves to be human, when they very much weren't.
He played the part of a monster in the Killing Game, but he never did anything really nefarious, unless one thought kidnapping Kaito was monstrous… and manipulating Gonta… and maybe forcing his true emotions away to seem like a monster after the ending of the fourth trial…
Okay, so he MIGHT have done some monstrous things. But he would NEVER hurt a child. He would NEVER do something that bad, to the point that it left scars like that all over a kid's arms. He remembered seeing bandages on her body underneath the brown dress… did she have scars like those all over her body?
A kid her age didn't—shouldn't—have to go through ANY of that. Whatever had happened to her must've been bad—scratch that, it was horrendous! Anyone who hurt children deserved to be drawn and quartered, and then shot several times in the chest and head with a magnum.
He created D.I.C.E. with the expressed purpose to bring in kids like him—runaways—kids who didn't have anywhere to go and needed a place to escape, a place to be themselves, all the while doing whatever the hell they wanted, aside from killing. That was against his moral code. Though he was never opposed to things that lead up to people's deaths, doing it directly was something he was against.
Although there was one exception he made to that rule, and it was specifically towards people who hurt children. If he ever found out that any of his fellow members of D.I.C.E. were being abused at home, or had been, he'd go out of his way to make sure that person died in the worst way possible. It happened with Kotaru, who was being physically abused by her father, and the next day, his body sunk to the bottom of the ocean via a cinderblock, forever to be undiscovered.
No one ever knew that it was D.I.C.E. who committed those crimes, and if Kokichi had it his way, he'd never be spoken about again. Well, at least, his version of D.I.C.E. did those crimes, he didn't know if a Takime ran D.I.C.E. committed crimes that were, by all means, worse than what Kokichi did. Takime was always known to be a bit of a… violent person, that much everyone knew to be for sure.
Still, right now, this was the least of his concerns, and quite frankly, he could've cared less what a Takime ran D.I.C.E. would look like because as far as he was concerned, finding the little girl's abuser and dealing with them was on his top priority.
"Calm down, Kokichi… take a deep breath, and relax. It's not like it'll happen anymore. She's safe now, so that's good. Now, she needs to heal. I'll help with that… or at least, I'll try to help with that as much as possible."
The purple-haired boy glanced over at his phone and snagged it from the spot it had sat on his table, then decided a way on how he'd get all of his kempt-up anger out of his system. He dialled a number from his contacts, then smirked. "Powerloader? Yeah, it's Kokichi. Mind if I test out those robots you're going to be using for the entrance exam? Sweet, I'll see you there," Kokichi thought, a smirk on his face, hanging up the phone, a small gleam in his eyes. "This is going to be fun."
It was about time he put his anger to good use.
xxXXxxXXxx
Toshinori Yagi was a man of many things and a man of many secrets. The blond-haired man was scrawny, almost sickly so. No one would have expected him to be Japan's number one pro hero, yet he was. Though, he did look much better than he used to, back when he earned that title. Currently, he was wearing a yellow pinstripe suit with a blue tie and white shirt underneath. His shoes were black and polished, and his overall features made him look like a skeleton more than a person.
Now, one might be wondering: if he was Japan's top pro hero, then why wasn't he out doing his job? Well, the answer to that was a simple, yet also depressing one. He simply didn't have the timeto continue to do that today. After an injury that he had earned from a foe he had killed years ago, he was rendered almost completely useless for weeks at a time until he fully healed.
And even then, he still could only do hero work for a short amount of time. Currently, he only has five hours to be 'All Might' and that number was rapidly shrinking. But that was for another time. Right now, he was focusing his attention on something more… productive. If you could call it that.
A few moments ago, he had been enjoying his favourite pastime; watching hero students train. He liked the idea of watching a student testing out their fullest potential with their Quirks, especially if it meant that they were going to be a hero.
Normally, he would be excited to see a person in action, especially if they were going to be a future student and a potential classmate of Young Midoriya. But this time, it was different. He was there for different reasons, because to him, he saw there to be something… fishy, about the person in question. There was something… wrong… with this potential new student—his story, how he got to U.A. in the first place, and overall everything else in between. And it wasn't just his opinion on that matter, Kishiyama Ken—aka Cementoss—also shared the opinion that Kokichi Oma was dangerous.
His Quirk: Liar; it was as terrifying as Nedzu made it out to be. It allowed the boy to lie about whatever he wanted, whether it be about himself, his surroundings, or others. Effectively making him impossible to pin a crime on, even if he committed it or not, seeing as he could literally lie his way out of it. Toshinori was just glad he planned to use that power for good, seeing as he was working on his path to becoming a hero.
He, as well as the other teachers of U.A.—of which he was going to be joining them as one soon—watched his Quirk Assessment test, and it was clear that the boy was strong. He could lie five times in a row, a hard limit on how much he could use his quirk in a given few hours, and every time he did lie, his heart rate would skyrocket depending on the eyebrow-raising questionability the lie had been.
It was clear that when he met the boy in the halls on his way to the observation room, he had been mad about something. What it was, Toshinori didn't know, but whatever it was, he had to vent out his anger because of that. When the boy had lined up in front of the gates to do a mock-up version of the practical exam, he had been saying some things under his breath, and as he did, physical changes were made to him as soon as he began.
He doubled in muscle mass, and increased in height, going from 5'2 to 8'1 with the physique of a Greek God. His hair got longer and had blades attached to them on their ends, and his hands developed claws. When he had finished, he had coughed up some blood, enough to cause a small puddle, but didn't seem to be affected by it too heavily, giving them the all-clear, showing that he was okay—must've been what he had lied about because according to Recovery Girl, that would usually be enough to make him pass out, but he digressed.
After a few seconds of deliberation, they allowed the exercise to continue, and as soon as those gates opened, the speed at which he moved caused shockwaves and cracks in the surrounding ground and walls.
They watched as the boy had torn apart the robots with pathetic ease, at one point he even sprouted dragon-like wings from his back and began to breathe fire out of his mouth as if it were nothing. They even sicked four Zero-Pointers on him at his request and he destroyed them all in the literal blink of an eye.
If Toshinori hadn't known about his Quirk before all of this, he would've thought that the boy had somehow had a copy of All For One with the number of Quirks he was using all at once.
If he had actually participated in the exam, he would've shattered All Mights score when he was a student at U.A. with villain points alone, sitting at a score of 345 points, which had added up to the entirety of their robots that would be unleashed on the examinees, and he did so in 4 minutes. When it ended, he double clapped, returned to his normal state, thanked everyone for "putting up with his anger" and left to his dorms, seemingly in a more chipper mood than when he last saw him.
This led to now, where Toshinori was sitting in a conference room with the other teachers at U.A., and with a hologram of Kokichi Oma in the center of the table, and it was at this point when the silence around the table that had been maintained for the past ten minutes was broken by Aizawa.
"Can we all collectively agree that Kokichi Oma must be, without question, kept out of the hands of the Hero Safety and Protection Committee?" Aizawa asked as everyone nodded. "Good, that means we can promptly move on to what it was we all saw, which, if I may be frank, was fucking ridiculous," Aizawa stated, earning more nods.
"Yes, Kokichi Oma is quite the powerhouse. How he got to this point, we will never know. He seems to have more of a handle on his Quirk than we had thought. The boy is clearly wicked smart, seeing as he barely even understood his ability the first week he was 'ere, and now he's pulling stuff off like that. That speaks volumes as to how much stronger he might get 'round these parts. Though, from what we saw, he seemed to have no combat training, at least in the traditional sense," the Pro Hero, Snipe, remarked, crossing his arms.
"Is no one going to mention how he took down those four Zero-Pointers, in literal seconds each?!" Powerloader snapped, clenching his fists. "Those took me months to build, and he blew them away with not a second of hesitation! Granted, we have thousands of them, but the fact stands, All Might, when he was a student, took at least a minute to deal with one of them, never mind four at once!" the scrawny man stated, causing Toshinori to hum in contemplation.
There was no doubt about it, they had really dodged a bullet. The boy's potential was limitless, only rivalled by his successor—he hoped—Izuku Midoriya, who was still being trained at this current moment and time, and whose progress had been phenomenal. However, this conversation was about Kokichi, not Izuku, who the staff didn't even know about yet.
"That is quite… concerning. We should keep an eye on him now more than we had before. However, I don't think he is a threat, seeing as he is on our side. But, if, and I do mean if, he does ever turn to the side of villainy… we might be in more trouble than when he was around. Remember, he's only becoming a hero because it's convenient to him at the moment, he said that himself to me when we first met. He's NOT doing this out of the kindness of his heart. Though, after he saved that little girl just a little earlier today, he might be doing it for her now. Who knows, though. For now, we must convince him that being a hero is something he should earnestly strive for," Nedzu stated, his tone of voice commanding, as the rest of the staff nodded in agreement.
Toshinori felt a chill run up his spine at a thought that randomly came up in his head. "But what if… we can't?" He shook his head. He wasn't going to voice his paranoia. The last thing he wanted was to think negative things about a boy with an overpowered Quirk, similar to that of Cathleen.
And that was when a thought came to the forefront of his mind. "What if we get him to speak to Star and Stripe? If there is anyone out there more heroic than myself, and someone who has a persuasive way of words like myself, Cathleen would match that without hesitation!" Toshinori stated, causing everyone to look at him with a confused expression, all except for Nedzu and Recovery Girl.
"Funny you mention that Mr. Yagi, because I was already several steps ahead of you," Nedzu stated, causing Toshinori to raise an eyebrow. "We already contacted Star and Stripe, aka Cathleen Bates. We managed to get her management to agree to her coming down to Japan two weeks before U.A.'s entrance exam to see how much Kokichi's Quirk matches up to New Order. Cathleen herself said she was excited to finally meet the boy, but until then, we should still keep an eye on Kokichi…."
And as the chimera said that, they looked over to a monitor, showing Kokichi wandering through the halls of the school, keeping his head low as he passed by a few other students, one of which was a blue-haired girl, one that Nedzu remembered went by the name "Nejire Hado" who caught him after he tripped, the two teens talked, and Kokichi seemed to be in a better mood after the fact. "Although, I don't think we'll have to worry. So long as he meets some new people, and gets some friends, I'm sure he might become more… moldable with the idea of being a hero for the sake of others."
-To Be Continued-
So… Kokichi is fucking busted if that wasn't made clear already by his Quirk's description and his known 'creativity' within Danganronpa V3. I was originally going to write out the whole fight scene with the robots, but that would've just artificially inflated the size of the chapter, and nobody wants that. Besides, having the teachers debate about the aftermath is something I find far more interesting than the actual battle itself. That being said, I'll see you all in the next chapter. Peace!