Rumi seethes silently, ears flicking back in an attempt to tune out the dull voices of the immaculate, faceless corporate drones in front of her. It's a doomed effort but the best she can muster; having super-hearing is a curse instead of a blessing sometimes.
'I wonder what would happen if I suddenly leapt the desk and started a brawl. Doubt those dumb guys wearing sunglasses indoors could hold me back even a second,' she muses.
It's a pleasant image but nothing more than a brief distraction.
"-and I am sure I do not need to remind you, Miss Usagiyama, that if you continue to refuse to curtail your reckless behaviour, some extremely serious repercussions may be forced into effect," her current persecutor continues.
He is right - she doesn't need reminding. She hadn't the first time he'd said it, and certainly not every time since. Her teeth grind together as they peel back into an aggravated snarl.
Her reward is the look of self-important pomp instantly slipping away, replaced by mild fear.
Sure, she'd never actually harm him - frustrated daydreams notwithstanding - but there are few who could face one of Mirko's glares without flinching and a middle-aged career politician was never going to be one of them.
Her mission is accomplished but there's no time to bask in satisfaction. Rallying surprisingly fast, the suit coughs and offers her a few sheets of paper.
"Ahem, yes, well. To conclude, we at the Hero Public Safety Commission have decided that your actions cannot go completely unsupervised any longer," the man in the suit continues, though his voice is now a tad strained.
"And since it is our belief that your less-than-ideal tendencies will sadly not be curbed by providing you with a teammate, we hope you will prove sufficiently capable of mentoring a pupil instead. We have already spoken to a suitable institute to provide one, of course."
Rumi's eyes widen in shock as she stares at him, ignoring the documents she's been proffered. Mentor a pupil? They were planning to saddle her with some kid like a glorified babysitter!
Sensing she wasn't going to take it from him any time soon, the suit places the document on the desk in front of her.
"What? This is ridiculous, I'm not doing it," the Rabbit Hero exclaims when her brain re-engages.
An older lady, her face pinched and half-moon spectacles perched on her nose, clears her throat and pins Rumi with a look generally reserved for disobedient pets and toddlers.
"If you could bring yourself to read the details Mr Ogino has provided you, you would be informed that this is merely a week-long exercise - nothing lasting. If it all goes well, then perhaps we might reconsider whether extra stringent measures need to be applied," the woman explains, her nasal voice drumming deeper on Rumi's burgeoning headache.
It takes some difficulty to bite back an acidic comment as Rumi scans through the paper she's been given. It looks like mostly legal jargon and other boring stuff, but there are important bits of information sprinkled throughout. Mentorship. UA High. One week. Daily patrols.
'Cohabitation?!'
"What the fuck! They've got to stay with me? In my actual home? Where I live?!" She shrieks, aghast.
Surely this was just some kind of sick joke.
"Certainly. Hiroshima's a fair distance from Shizuoka, isn't it? You travelled between the two only recently," the bespectacled lady says, her tone coated in smug enjoyment of Rumi's indignation.
"What, has a Villain attack broken all the trains?" Rumi snarks, glaring at her. "I get it - you're just too cheap to rent a hotel, aren't you? All that tax yen going into bank accounts instead-"
"This is not unique to you, of course. Many students will be sharing their mentor's address for the duration of the program," Ogino interjects. "We believe it fosters greater bonds and eases the strain of travel on the pupil."
"So I'm not special after all, good to know," Rumi grinds out. "But this is bullshit and I'm still not doing it."
She is Mirko, the Mountain Rabbit, not some weakling who needs a team to lift her up - or worse, a ball and chain to drag her down. She smashes Villains with nothing but her own strength and she's goddamn good at it.
"Miss Usagiyama. The Hero Public Safety Commission has indulged you and your rather excessive independent streak for quite some time. We feel we've been generous in turning a blind eye to your past… mistakes, shall we say, and allowing you to work without an Agency for as long as we have," the lady replies, eyes narrowing in displeasure.
"Were we not lenient with you, Miss Usagiyama? You're a very proficient Hero and we appreciate your service, but you're neither infallible nor flawless and must realise your actions have consequences. This is one of them. Maybe you ought to show some gratitude instead - it would certainly be a shame for us to resort to restricting you further; one less Hero protecting our streets would be a bitter blow."
"Are you threatening me?" The dark-skinned Heroine growls, ears twitching. "I don't jump when told to and get my licence suspended, is that how it's gonna be, huh?"
"I am sure Madam Fujisawa would not deign to do something so unbecoming and not to mention wholly unnecessary, Miss Usagiyama," Ogino interjects once again, some measure of pomp now returned. "You will agree to our proposal, of course. In fact, we had already intended for you to become involved in a similar exercise within the year, the… ah, situation that has arisen merely …expedited the process, as it were."
They have her over a barrel and she knows it. Not a feat that had ever yet been achieved by a Villain - but the law had different and more dangerous weapons at its disposal. Being a Hero is her calling, there is nothing she can do but accept it.
"...Who's the brat?" Rumi asks Fujisawa, ignoring him. "What are they like? I'm not having some little perv in my house, rifling through all my stuff."
"The student in question hasn't been determined at this moment," the elderly lady responds, lips pursed. "We judged there would be less complications if you decided for yourself."
"Allowed to choose my own axe, am I? Lucky me," Rumi mutters sourly, reclining back.
"Needless dramatics aside, you know of the UA High Sports Festival, I presume?" Fujisawa continues, unperturbed. "It's an important event that occurred only yesterday, if you haven't heard."
"Yeah, thanks. I don't live under a rock, I just don't have time to pay attention to children's events. Anyway, didn't some kind of Villain attack happen there recently? I thought they'd probably cancel it or something. So they went ahead with it, why should I care?" Rumi demands, irked by Fujisawa's attitude.
"Perhaps if you were to view the Festival, you might discern a suitable candidate from amongst the competitors. It was an interesting spectacle to say the least, wouldn't you agree, Mr Ogino?" Fujisawa responds, adjusting her spectacles.
"Oh I surely would, Madam Fujisawa, I surely would. A few students in particular put on quite the showing and are actually rather popular it seems. Many of our high-ranking Professional Heroes have already put in their offers, of course," Ogino replies, nodding surprisingly eagerly.
"Indeed they have. We'll be happy to provide you with a high-quality recording of the event to watch so that you can make your selection, Miss Usagiyama. You'll have to decide fast though, we'll need your answer within 24 hours," Fujisawa explains.
"I only get a day to decide as well?!" Rumi exclaims, flabbergasted.
"That's correct. All the details are there before you but we'll be certain to send you a digital copy alongside that recording - just in case you should accidentally lose them on your way home," Fujisawa concludes, beginning to gather up papers and directing her faceless drones.
Rumi lets out a frustrated huff as she stomps off, accepting the unspoken dismissal. It was bad enough that they were shackling her to a child but to treat her like she was one on top of it was practically unforgivable.
'Things just keep getting better and better.'
She takes the scenic route through a park in the hope that some time amongst nature would help calm her down a bit.
It doesn't work.
Still fuming, Rumi opens her door with a bit more force than is necessary and stomps inside. Mrs Satou from Number Seven had startled at Rumi's face when she passed her - she'll probably have to apologise later but can't bring herself to care right now.
Immediately she beelines to the fridge, flinging it open and staring hard at the contents.
At the bottom of the fridge is a brace of beer cans, the cool liquid calling to her, promising mind-numbing comfort. She reaches out to pick up some orange juice instead but gives up halfway through.
'Ah, fuck it.'
Rumi grabs a beer, rips off the can ring pull with her fingernail, takes a quick swig and sighs to herself in satisfaction.
Thirst somewhat abated, she reaches over to snag a handful out of a bag of carrots and then closes the fridge door with a quick check of her hip.
A stack of dishes lie by the sink ready to be put away but Rumi merely gives them a guilty glance and strides to her bedroom, stripping off her hero costume piece by piece.
'Do I deserve this?' The white-haired Hero wonders as she slips into a comfortable tank top and shorts.
So what if she'd beaten up a creep or Villain pretty bad sometimes, it was kind of her job, right? Those of them that ever left jail would surely think twice before attempting crimes again after meeting her. It was tough love, cruel to be kind and all that.
Yeah things got a little intense occasionally and maybe she didn't quite hold back enough sometimes, but they never suffered any permanent damage. Mostly.
How could they threaten to take her licence when there were so many Villains out there, deliberately ruining people's lives?
Did they somehow forget that mental-case Stain had literally just cut down another Hero?
The poor bastard had been some kind of support Hero or something who needed a ton of sidekicks, sure, but it was one less guy on their side.
She takes another chug before putting the beer can on her end table and flopping onto her bed with a displeased groan. Picking up her laptop, she logs in and navigates to her private Hero email.
A few messages from her fellow Heroes, no one she really cares to respond to at the moment, and one sent by the Commission.
She doesn't bother to read the contents; it was probably yet more of the same shit they'd fed her earlier and she'd held onto the papers, mainly out of spite.
As expected, there's a video attached to it.
Absently clicking download, she glances around, spotting her earbuds and swiping them up. Having stuff in her ears was less than pleasant but a necessity - getting a hold of headphones with a Quirk like hers wasn't that easy and she generally refuses to let someone make her something specialised on principle.
Pressing play proves to be a mistake, instantly causing her to recoil in shock as a loud voice begins to blare directly into her sensitive ears, accompanied by the staccato burst of fireworks.
Barely resisting the urge to rip the earbuds out and throw the laptop across the room, she lowers the volume significantly and glares daggers at the posturing blond man waving a microphone on the screen, hoping he'll fall dead where he stands.
Sadly, she doesn't have the ability to alter the past so instead it cuts away to a colourful variety of teenagers trudging out into the stadium, though the microphone man does continue to blather on.
Rumi pays him no more attention however, watching the brats begin to conglomerate into a large collection of separate groups.
A few of them stand out here and there - bright pink skin or multiple arms being fairly distinguishing features. Flashy quirks were worth a lot to a Hero's standing and as a fellow Mutant Hero herself Rumi has some small affinity for them.
They seem to be predominantly from the Hero classes. Those were the ones to watch - General studies was populated by those who didn't make the cut; their quirks are probably inherently weak and not really worth considering.
She hardly spares a glance for the Support classes - those who made things for others were of little use to her, reliant entirely on her own body - and wonders for a moment just what the point of bringing the Business class onto the field even is.
Suddenly the camera cuts away from the assembled children and begins to focus on a single woman instead, one instantly recognisable as Midnight.
And the operator could only have been a man because that focus was now predominantly on her backside as she strides up onto the stage and cracks her whip.
Rumi rolls her eyes at the display, biting off the tip of a carrot. She has nothing against the woman in particular - the few times they've met they had little cause to quarrel - there's no denying it is an unusual way for a schoolteacher to behave.
As the Hero waves her hand and calls forth a student, Rumi's curiosity is surprisingly piqued. The blond-haired teen stalks up to the microphone, glaring into the camera with fierce red eyes to declare his ensuing certain victory.
While his confidence brings a surge of resentment from the student body, it's clear his resolve was unshakable. Such self-assuredness was undoubtedly admirable but unless he has the strength to back up his claim he'll only be painting a target on himself.
If that was his goal then he's definitely achieved it.
Disinterest marrs her features as the camera surveys the students crushing up against each other in a tight corridor, all of them jockeying for position but getting nowhere until finally one makes their move.
And what a move it was, sheets of ice snaking across the ground to freeze his competitors in place. That was no mean feat. Rumi eyes the two-toned teen with intrigue as he races ahead of his peers.
It looked like the sneaky trick hadn't caught everyone off guard though. Bakugo from earlier was flying through the air with his fists blazing and a handful of other students weren't far behind him. As the seconds ticked by, more and more seemed to be adapting to the sudden icy conditions.
Rumi can't help but bark in laughter as a tiny gremlin-looking child gets swatted like a fly mid-air, tumbling to the ground, eyes bulging. He's probably fine but there are now more threats on the field for the students to worry about than just each other.
"Wait, was that boy even old enough to be in this competition?" She mumbles to herself. "Or maybe his quirk is just being two-foot tall."
Those who had escaped the ice seemed to be frozen once again now that they were faced with an array of robots. Those were some big-looking toys indeed.
'These kids don't know how lucky they are - they can just go wild; no need to hold back against those hunks of metal at all.'
And the ice-user certainly didn't. He took the mechanical foes in stride, his Quirk raising a wave of ice that coated them all in a sheen of frost, halting them in place as he slipped between their legs. The announcer's voice continued to prattle on but one word caught her attention.
'Todoroki? That's Endeavour's son? Hmm. Bet that hothead was real pissed off when his boy ended up with ice powers,' she thinks as she crunches down another juicy carrot snack.
No surprise that the Number Two Hero had produced such a powerful child. The boy was certainly proving himself one to watch out for.
Unlike the rest of them, who were still cautious and holding back. But perhaps their wariness was not unwarranted - two boys rushed forwards to capitalise on the opening and were promptly crushed beneath a collapsing robot for their trouble.
"Ouch," she muttered, taking a drink.
She raises an eyebrow as the pair burst out of their metallic coffins looking no worse for wear, their bodies coated in rock and steel.
'Tough customers, huh? That's neat, they could have potential as well.'
The blond burst forth on his burning hands, vaulting clear over the robots. Others with more mobile quirks began to tail him and the lead Endeavour's son had gained was shrinking.
It looked like it was shrinking fast as well. Even as the two-toned teen skated across the rope bridges, Bakugo was practically flying through the air, grinning wildly as he zeroed in on the leader of the pack.
And since Todoroki had to carefully walk across the mine-strewn path before him, he had no chance to continue outpacing him any more. Blondie had taken the lead, though he was also taking the initiative to stamp out his rival while he was at it.
Rumi watches with an amused smile as the pair swiped and dodged, avoiding the deadly pathways while their less careful competitors were thrown into the air by pink explosions.
'This is actually kind of neat, I wonder what it was like to watch it live-'
And then the hectic battlefield was suddenly still. Rumi blinks in surprise as a colossal explosion rips through the air, hurtling a small teen forward. The camera focused on his determined, freckled face as the commentator went wild.
"Izuku Midoriya?" She wonders, the name rings a faint bell somehow.
Why did she know that name?
Ah! That was it, the green-haired kid who'd had his ass kicked by that goddamn creep she in turn had dealt a well-earned beating to - no matter what those chumps at the Safety Commission said.
The whole reason she's forced to watch this damn video in the first place.
Now she can recall that he'd claimed he was a Hero in training and was going to UA, it had completely slipped her mind.
Not that she'd really believed him at the time to be honest; kids would say anything to seem cool to a Hero and he'd hardly looked like he had what it took to make it into a mediocre Hero school, let alone UA fuckin' High.
Midoriya soared across the field, fast enough to take first place even, making it apparent that his looks were somewhat deceptive - his quick thinking in smashing the mines and stunning his first-place rivals so he could steal the win was a gutsy move but it had paid off.
But what was his Quirk like? She'd not seen any evidence of him using one against the duplicating Villain (not that he should have) and certainly there didn't seem to be much sign of it in the competition so far - at least if he had been doing so then it was so unnoticeable as to be basically irrelevant.
Perhaps that was the case - his Quirk was functionally useless and he got by on his smarts instead. Or maybe his Quirk was his smarts? It worked for some Heroes, generally those who lurked in the shadows and relied on sneak attacks. Not her style for sure.
She frowns a little as she watches his green eyes tear up at his victory but nonetheless nods her head toward the screen.
'You did pretty well, kid, congrats.'
But it doesn't look like much more than a lucky shot in truth. And that's definitely not something she'd personally want to risk relying on in a battle.
She needs someone strong and fast to keep up with her, pure brainpower would only get you so far. If you locked the smartest man in the world in an empty room with a hungry tiger he'd still just be a very clever lunch.
It appeared that they jumped into the next round immediately. That was good, letting them take a breather would only kill their momentum. And knocking the competitor count down so drastically? Even better.
Most students had just been chaff struggling in the back while the few pieces of wheat pulled far ahead. If that was the best so many successful applicants at the premiere Hero school in the country could do then frankly she hadn't missed out on anything by not going.
As Midnight explains the terms of the next event, Rumi couldn't help but sneer at the laptop derisively.
What Villain attack had she ever resolved by riding around on some fool's shoulders? Not one. Capturing a headband? How childish.
And the scoring was so arbitrary. Ten million points for first place, when taking second was only worth two hundred? Why not ten thousand? Or just say infinity, you win? Even adding up all the other headbands together, it couldn't come remotely close.
They weren't even allowed to knock out the other teams either. What kind of competition was this meant to be?
"Calm down, Rumi. It's all just a dumb game for idiots to watch, none of it matters," she grouses to herself through a mouthful of carrot.
The teens clustered together as they tried to form groups and she could see that while the blond boy with the fiery hands and the ice-user boy had legions begging for their attention, the actual winner of the previous round was alone - practically a pariah.
'Well, he's the juiciest target on the field and since he probably doesn't have the strength to keep his points, backing him is most likely a losing strategy. Can't say I'd look his way myself if I were there.'
Fortunately for him, at least some appeared willing to put their faith in Midoriya. A pink-haired chick decked out in gadgets, a guy with a bird for a face and a plain-looking girl. They certainly didn't make the most impressive combination. Hopefully for his sake they proved a good fit.
He'd surely be needing it. The moment the round began she watched as practically the entire arena made a beeline for him. Could he face off against so many opponents and win?
Unsurprisingly the answer was no.
Instead the green-haired boy instantly began to cut his losses and jetpack away. It was an understandable, even logical choice, but a coward's move nonetheless. Hoping to run away and outlast all his enemies was hardly the mark of Hero, after all.
Even in the air he still wasn't safe - Blondie took to the skies after him, delivering a strike that resounded with explosive energy. Birdface had some sort of black familiar deflect the powerful blow but the group refused to stay put and fled once again.
Bakugo didn't seem inclined to give chase any more though. A different blond had seen his opportunity and Rumi laughs to herself at the burgled boy's outraged expression as his fellow competitor makes off with his headband.
Though his main threat was now off chasing stolen points, Midoriya was still being cornered by Endeavour's son. Todoroki was staring down his opponent as the other teams raced towards them. Would he freeze the ground again?
No. The sudden brilliant burst of electricity was certainly a shock, though predominantly to the competitors who were all caught off guard as over a million volts discharged from yet another blond-haired boy into them. And now there was the ice to follow up in a nice little finisher.
Quite a powerful combination, though it hadn't caught out the main prize. It at least cut off any escape route but even so Midoriya seemed to be proving himself to be quite squirrelly.
Not squirrelly enough however.
She watches the ten million headband slip away. The kid had proven himself a pretty effective leader even with his weaknesses. Such an evasion-focused team would surely never be able to pull it back, especially with so little time remaining.
He clearly had no choice but to try regardless. To be left without a headband would mean complete defeat.
As Midoriya charges forward, Todoroki is clearly bracing for the clash. As the camera focuses on the impending skirmish, strange red lines begin to emerge up Midoriya's arm. Was it his Quirk? Had he been saving it for the direst moment?
He isn't the only one concealing a trick up his sleeve. Rumi watches in fascination as Todoroki's own arm bursts into flames in an attempt to shield himself, though it isn't enough to prevent Midoriya from snatching away the headband.
Had the kid actually done it?
Nope.
Just seventy points? He was out of the running for sure - that had been a complete failure. But despite the massive setback, Midoriya was rallying once more for a last desperate attempt, surging forth against Todoroki.
There were only seconds left and she could see Bakugo was now bearing down on them all from the sky. Who would win this heated confrontation?
An unexpected blare of an airhorn jolts her back and she almost knocks over her beer in surprise.
They were out of time and yet it hardly felt like it.
All that running away for nothing? She doesn't even get to see his Quirk properly in action? No incredible three-way battle?
"Ugh, what a let-down," Rumi moans, too disappointed to muster even a snicker as Bakugo faceplants into the dirt.
As she picks up the can and takes a swallow, Midoriya bursts into tears again. That was a bit weird, was he so upset over losing?
No. He hadn't lost after all - or at least not entirely it seemed. His teammate had grabbed another headband and they had made it to the finals. Well done, sure, but the waterworks were still a little unnecessary.
It was time for a lunch break apparently. That was one of the advantages of just watching a recorded video at least, easy enough to get back into the action fast. A few clicks and Midnight is on stage once again to announce the third round; a tournament.
Now that was more like it! No more of this weak shit, proper one-on-one battles with each competitor showcasing their skills were just what she needed to see.
For a moment she contemplates skipping to the final fight. Surely whoever won that bout would be the strongest of them all and she can save herself the time by just sending them her offer.
But then again… it would be a real chance to determine the strengths and weaknesses of the ones who'd risen to the top and see what they had to show the world, to discover just why all those Pro Heroes are supposedly clamouring for internship drafts with them.
And if nothing else she might get a look at just who the future competition is and what prospective Pros to keep an eye out for when she finally takes the Number One spot for herself.