meiboukoushi
A/N: A lot of world-rebuilding happened, between me finally completing Seasons 3 and 4, catching up with the manga, creating Super Star, and transforming Yoko Shimomura into Yoko Shibusawa.
I got really interested in the dynamics between pro-heroes, villains, the general public, and the government. Hence, this grand undertaking at exploring what it's like to be a hero under the direct supervision and control of the Commission. Having just one hero under their "control" didn't sit right with me.
I have a lot of fics planned for this universe, but I just felt this pull towards writing this child. This is also my first time writing in second person, so bear with me.
Feedback is always appreciated, thanks for reading!
"You don't have to be a hero to help people, but what's the good in hiding that Quirk?"
You are eight years old, and the woman before you says she can make you a pro-hero.
Mild AU: The HSPC has another hero under their wing.
meiboukoushi (n.)
starry eyes and beautiful teeth (said of beautiful women)
"Hi there."
The woman looks at you fondly, smiling with white teeth and closed eyes. She looks kind, but the sort your mother had warned you about–"Sea snakes are snakes all the same."–with her black and white suit, and her neatly tied hair. You've never seen anyone go to the shore dressed like that. Too long. Too formal. Too many layers. This is a beach, why would anyone wear that here? The weather's nice, too, with the sun high in the sky and not a cloud in sight. She's too pretty not to wear something nice to the beach.
"Can I ask you a question?"
You blink at her–"You're asking one now?"–and squint at the sunlight on the water. A sea breeze comes and you smell the ocean in the air, you watch her ponytail sway in the wind. Her dark hair shines in the sunlight–"So pretty."–and you see her smile.
"I missed the sea," she sighed, "I haven't been home in years."
She crouches down and touches the sand, and you're worried she might get her suit dirty.
"The sand here is really good, you know?"
You don't know why she's talking like a machine–"Of course the sand is good. We're at the beach!"–or why she hasn't asked the question yet.
"The beaches in the mainland can't compare." The woman stands up, dusting away the sand from her hands and her suit. "There's really no place to be, right?"
Was that her question? Or was she just talking to herself? But you answer the question anyway.
"Nowhere else."
"Yeah." She chuckled. "So my question now is..."
Another breeze comes in, stronger than the last, and it brushes the woman's hair across her face. She laughs, before smoothing out her ponytail behind her. She leans down and looks at you directly. You can see the small freckles on her face and her shiny, shiny eyes.
"Do you believe in heroes?"
You aren't sure how to answer her. Was it a slip of the tongue? Did she mean pro-hero? But there are neither of those in Sukari, not even in the other islands of Reishi, Rakusa, Nabu, or Takodama. There aren't any pro-heroes here. There hasn't been a pro-hero here as far as you can remember, and anyone who develops a really good Quirk, a Quirk that can help more people faster...
They move away, to the mainland. Because nothing happens here, nothing noteworthy, nothing that needs the help of a pro-hero. And even if they don't have a really great Quirk, people move to the mainland all the time. This woman in front of you moved to Tokyo, after all. Her name was Yoko Shibusawa, and she told you that she came from Okinawa too–"I was born in Takodama, but I moved to Tokyo for university."
So if you're asked that question...
"Yeah."
And you think that's the answer she expects because, despite it all, you're still taught about pro-heroes in school, there's news about pro-heroes on TV, and there's even pro-hero merchandise available here. Sukari and all the other islands may be far from all the noise, but they're not backwater.
"And have you ever thought of becoming a hero?"
She uses that word again–hero–and it couldn't be another mistake. It's the use of the word that bothers you. The concept of a hero isn't anything new or unfamiliar, it's just strange to come from someone like her–"Hi, I'm Yoko Shibusawa, and I work for the Hero Public Service Commission."–who just appeared on the island earlier that day looking for you.
"A pro-hero?"
You look up at her to check if that's what she actually meant.
"Oh, right," she laughs, "you might be getting confused now. Anyway..."
She looks up, and you follow. A fast-moving cloud starts to block the sun.
"Do you want to help people?"
Your answer, though quiet, is a sure answer.
"Yeah."
You've been raised in a family of good people who believe in the power of action. Your father is an office worker. Your mother is a boat captain. Your cousins and relatives live peaceful lives. Your grandparents are happy with their retirement. And one of the things they've passed down to you is this: "You don't have to be a hero to help people."
The cloud passes by, and the sunlight comes streaming down again. A breeze blows by, and you can see the small shift in her expression. She smiles down at you, looking hopeful.
"Do you want to be a pro-hero?"
The answer to this is obvious, too.
"No."
You hear your mother calling you over, it's time for lunch. So you run over to her, dusting the sand from your clothes and your hair as you do. When you reach her, you look back at the woman by the shore, who hasn't moved an inch from where you left her. You see her light a cigarette and puff smoke into the air, the wind quick to blow it away.
You hear a phone ring, it's the woman's phone, and you see her answer it. Her voice is slightly muffled by the waves and the wind, but you think you can make out what she says.
"I know. I'm just not sure how to handle it."
Lunch is your favorite meal of the day. But for some reason, today's is a lot more and looks a lot tastier than usual. There's sukiyaki, oden, nikujaga, yasai itame, and you hear your father say to save the pudding for later. And there's juice, mango juice–your favorite–that you know is only saved for special occasions and weekends. School might be out for the summer, but it's a weekday, so what could the occasion be?
You see your grandparents seated on the low table, your grandfather looking more grumpy than usual and your grandmother beside him. She calls you over to the table, and you sit beside her. Your father comes over with a platter of fruit, followed by your mother with a fresh pitcher of mango juice. They tell you to eat to your heart's delight, so you do.
It's a happy lunch, a noisy lunch. Everyone's smiling and everyone's laughing, except for your grandfather. You notice that he hasn't touched his plate, hasn't moved an inch since you sat down.
"Gramps?"
He turns to you then, and frowns. He huffs, and stands abruptly, causing the entire table to shake.
"Dad, please!" Your father exclaims.
He glares at her, before walking away.
"Sit down, dear." Your grandmother pleads.
Your grandfather grumbles as he walks away, "I ain't sending my grandchild off."
What?
"Dad!" Your father's standing now too, but he doesn't follow after him.
You're confused now, and scared. What did he mean by that? Who's sending you away?
Your mother looks at you, and stumbles on her words, "He's just... angry. Don't mind him, and go eat."
Your grandmother strokes your hair, reassuring you. So you go ahead and eat. The oden is getting cold, and you want another helping of sukiyaki.
"What's this for, Dad?" You ask, mid-bite.
"Nothing," he laughs, "I just wanted a big lunch for a change."
You don't think that's reason enough, but you aren't complaining. You take another helping of nikujaga, smiling happily.
"So," your mother asks, "I saw you talking with Ms. Yoko at the beach."
"Yeah."
"What did you talk about?"
"She asked if I wanted to be a pro-hero." You aren't sure what to tell them, but you corrected the woman's choice of word. She was talking about pro-heroes, after all.
"And what did you tell her?"
"I didn't want to."
Your mother pauses. And your father and grandmother do too. Nobody says anything, and you wonder if that's what you weren't supposed to say.
"That's..." Your father begins, "Is that the truth, honey?"
You blink at the soup in your bowl. You aren't sure.
"Listen, dear," Your grandmother says softly, "Ms. Yoko is a..." but she's suddenly unsure of what to say next, "She's someone who can help you."
You're starting to feel scared. What's Granny talking about?
"You've been given a really, really helpful Quirk, darling."
Mom too?
You don't understand what's happening.
"It's..." She hesitates, "It's like your grandfather's Quirk."
Gramps had a Quirk? But he told me...
You look back and forth between your mother and your father, who share nervous looks, before turning towards your grandmother.
She sighs. "Your grandfather, he was..."
"Mom."
"Quiet, Karume," she narrows her eyes at your father, "it's about time for the truth, don't you think?"
The truth?
"Your grandfather," she repeats, and neither of your parents say anything more, "he was a pro-hero."
That doesn't make sense. Gramps doesn't have a Quirk. He said so himself! He didn't–
"He was known as Blue Stream. And he was a great hero, during his time. He had a Quirk unique enough to land him in the top five."
What's Granny saying? Gramps couldn't be a pro-hero. He grew up in Rakusa, and he was a fisherman!
"Darling?" Your mother reaches out a hand towards you, "Are you okay?"
"Gramps isn't a pro-hero." You say, "He said so himself. He's normal. He doesn't have a Quirk. He's–"
"I'm sorry, kid." You hear Gramps's voice, "But it's true."
He walks back into the dining room, a photo album in his hand. "I was a pro-hero."
"Sorry, Dad–" Your mother speaks up, worried, "But can this wait until after we've eaten? It's a–a lot to take in, especially at this age."
He blinks, and places the photo album on a side table. "Sure. And sorry, you and Karume made all this and..."
He sighs, and sits back on his chair, "Let's eat."
You stare at the photo album until your grandmother nudges you back to your plate. The rest of the lunch goes by in silence, and you try remembering if you've heard stories about Blue Stream at school.
"Blue Stream has a special Quirk. They say he had a Perfected Quirk, and they called him the Limitless Hero!"
You glance at your grandfather, who finally began eating, and can't make the connection.
A/N: I'm half-sure that Nabu Island is located in Okinawa Prefecture, so I'm doing away with this headcanon. Following the trend of Star Wars-referenced names:
Sukari – Scarif
Reishi – Rishi
Rakusa – Rugosa
Takodama – Takodana
