Chapter Fifteen: Shedding Light
"Sensei, it appears the Hero Association has updated our hero profiles," Genos said.
"Huh? What does that mean?" Saitama said, looking up from the TV.
"I believe it means that they have given us proper hero names," Genos said.
"Hey, nice going," King said, not turning from his handheld game. "Took them long enough. I guess Sitch has been too worried about that whole prophecy."
"Prophecy? What prophecy?" Fubuki asked.
"Don't worry about it, S-Class matter," King replied.
"It appears they have given me the name 'Demon Cyborg' for my relentless and aggressive fighting style, and how I ruthlessly chase down evil," Genos said, looking at his phone. "And the name they have chosen for you is 'Amber Annihilator', reflecting the brightness of your costume and your efficiency in eradicating monsters."
"Amber Annihilator?" Saitama said. "My costume is so not amber. It was supposed to be like a sunny color. Like a dandelion or a daffodil."
"It could be worse sensei," Genos said. "They could have given you the name Caped Baldy."
Saitama shuddered. "Yeah, you're right."
"Besides," King chimed in. "I'm not sure the other alternatives are much better. Daffodil destroyer and sunshine slaughter may not be the hero name you want to have."
"Why can't I just stick with my own name?" Saitama asked.
"I believe one's hero name acts to strike fear into one's opponent and boost one's confidence," Genos said. "A name can be a brand, a symbol for justice."
"True enough. Where'd you hear that?" Saitama asked.
"From a talk show with Amai Mask," Genos answered.
"Ah, that makes sense," Saitama said. "That guy's always going on about the true meaning of heroism."
"There's no way you know Amai Mask as well," Fubuki said. "I still can't believe you have connections with two of the S-Class."
"If only," Saitama muttered. "The guy keeps wanting me to change my outfit. Maybe that's why he gave me such a crummy hero name."
"A hero's outfit and name are only part of what makes a hero popular," Fubuki said. "Plenty of heroes that have strange names and costumes get a lot of recognition because they do hero work in the public eye or have the right connections. If you are willing to join the Blizzard Group, I could help make you known."
"For the last time, I'm good," Saitama said. "I don't need whatever you're selling."
"I'm not a salesperson!" Fubuki screeched. "I'm offering to help you get in the top ten of A-Class, maybe even the top five!"
"I don't need your help," Saitama said. "I'll manage on my own."
"Tch, well don't come crying to me when you fail," Fubuki said.
Saitama turned back to the TV. The person on the news was talking about an upcoming heat wave, and how this summer was going to be unprecedentedly warm. Saitama didn't pay too much attention to the weather. It's not like it affected him anyway.
Just then there was a knock on the door. Genos quickly rose and answered it. When he came back there was another dude with him. He was about Saitama's height with long, light colored hair. He was wearing some kinda martial arts uniform.
"Oh, uh, hi," Saitama said as the dude sat down. He looked kinda familiar, but Saitama didn't know where from.
"Thank you, Saitama, for letting me in," the dude said.
"No problem," Saitama said. Crap, this guy knew his name and he totally didn't. "What're doing here?"
"I'm here to ask you to check up on Master Silverfang," he said. "He's acting strange."
"Strange?" Genos asked. "How so?"
"Well, today he said we were going to be doing some kind of lesson, then beat me real bad and told me I was expelled from the dojo," he said. "He's usually so kind, I don't know why he would act like this."
"It probably has something to do with Garou," Genos said.
"Huh!? Garou!?" The karate kid said.
"Who's Garou?" Saitama asked.
"Garou was a former student of Silverfang," Genos replied. "Recently he has been classified as a monster due to an attack on the Hero Association HQ."
"An attack on the HQ?" Fubuki exclaimed. "Was that what the alert the other day was about?"
"Yes," Genos replied. "The Hero Association is trying to keep it quiet. It seems Garou is tracking down and attacking heroes."
"Ah. Do you think we should do something?" Saitama asked.
"No. It will not be necessary. Silverfang has already agreed to pursue Garou himself," Genos said. "That is likely why he expelled you. He did not want there to be any collateral damage when they inevitably clash."
"I…see," the guy said. "Thank you for your hospitality. I should go."
When the guy left, Saitama turned to Genos. "Who was that again?"
"That was Charanko, Silverfang's former disciple. We met him before," Genos said.
"Really?" Saitama asked.
"Yes. He takes care of Silverfang's dojo. He makes Purin that you enjoy," Genos said.
"Huh," Saitama said. "Nope, don't remember him."
There was another knock at the door. Saitama sighed as Genos got up to answer it. Why can't people just leave him alone?
"A-Amai Mask!?" Fubuki squealed.
"Blizzard of Hell," Amai Mask greeted. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here."
"Buhh–yes! Ehem, indeed, uh, what brings you here?" Fubuki asked, trying to hide her blush by twirling her hair with a finger.
Amai Mask gave her a bright smile and replied; "I'm sure you've heard the controversies surrounding our host," he gestured to Saitama, who was picking his nose. "I've come to ask him to help me clear the rumors up."
Amai Mask's smile turned sharp, and his eyes seemed darker. Fubuki's heart skipped a beat as Amai Mask asked her; "Why are you here? Surely you did not think these rumors were true, did you?"
"N-no! Of course not! I just came by seeking clarification! I was worried about my sister, you see," Fubuki said.
"Then why did you attempt to attack Master Saitama?" Genos asked. Fubuki shrank beneath the weight of Amai Mask's glare.
"I do not need to remind you that attacking other heroes is strictly against the Hero Association policy," Amai Mask warned. "Your little cabal is already on very thin ice. I would hate to see it broken up."
Fubuki nodded mutely, and Amai Mask turned back to Saitama. "It seems that your situation has already been explained to you."
"Not really," Saitama said. "She just said that I've been accused of cheating, not sure what for though."
Amai Mask nodded. "The media and many of the A-Class and lower heroes are suspicious of how you have climbed the ranks of the A-Class so quickly. It will not be long before you break the top ten. The heroes of A-Class perceive you as a threat to their rank. The media does not appear to like you. As you have been spotted with various members of the S-Class, their immediate, presumptuous thoughts were that you had somehow blackmailed all of them. Many outlets are calling for your demotion, or even expulsion from the Hero Association. I have been working to counteract these ideas, but I believe the best way to fully dispel the rumors would be to join me on a talk show."
"Nah," Saitama replied. "I'd rather not make a big deal about it."
"It's already a big deal," Amai Mask countered. "I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation. This could be disastrous for your career as a hero."
Saitama just shrugged. "I was a hero before this association, I'll be one regardless."
"If this issue is not dealt with, it may not only affect your career but your personal life," Amai Mask warned. "If the police start investigating you for fraud, it may become a hassle for you."
"The police? Why would they get involved with a Hero Association matter?" Saitama asked.
"If they believe you blackmailed anyone for your position, they may start looking into your history to see if you have committed any crimes in the past," Amai Mask explained.
"Ah. I see," Saitama said, a sweatdrop appearing on his forehead. "Good thing I have nothing to hide."
King merely gave him a look. Amai Mask growled and grit his teeth. "I strongly urge you to reconsider."
"No," Saitama said. "A hero shouldn't care about what people think of them. A hero does what's right in the face of adversity."
Amai Mask blinked and chuckled. "You never cease to amaze me. Very well. However, this issue still needs to be straightened out. Would you allow me to speak on your behalf at a press conference?"
"Sure, whatever dude," Saitama said.
"Thank you," Amai Mask said, standing. "Should you change your mind, you know how to reach me."
Once Amai Mask left, Fubuki blurted out; "I can't believe you actually know Amai Mask! I mean, he's the most popular hero!"
"Oh god don't tell me you're a fangirl of his," King groaned.
"I admire his work ethic," Fubuki replied. "Not only is he a full time hero, he's also an actor, singer and model. Plus, he's on the hero rank evaluation staff. I don't know how he has time for it all!"
"And it doesn't help that he's hot," King added.
Fubuki blushed furiously. "King!"
"Your head doing ok? It looks all swollen," Saitama said.
"You should have seen it yesterday," Mumen Rider said. "It looked like there was an apple growing out of my head."
"You should eat more bananas," Saitama said, gesturing to the bunch he left on the table. "They'll help your bones get tougher."
"I appreciate the gift, thank you Saitama," Mumen Rider said.
"Of course," Saitama said, peeling one.
"Of course you're eating them," Mumen Rider deadpanned.
"So this monster that beat you, I guess it took out a bunch of other heroes too, huh?" Saitama said. "It was all over the Hero Association newspaper."
"It was no monster," Mumen Rider said. "It was a human, who called himself a monster."
"Was he stronger than the fish dude?" Saitama asked.
"Hmm…" Mumen Rider said. "The Deep Sea King was insanely strong, so was this guy but in a different way."
"It was his technique," a voice from behind the curtain said. "He was a martial artist. It appears Silverfang raised one nasty monster."
Saitama pulled the green sheet open to reveal Tank Top Master lying in a hospital bed adjacent to Mumen Rider's.
"Oh hey, it's you," Saitama said. "You got beaten pretty bad too, huh?"
"Yeah," he sighed, looking defeated. "I tried to protect my bros, but I barely even damaged him. Martial arts can be such a pain in the ass."
"Sounds like you put up a good fight though," Saitama said. "Here, have a banana."
"O-oh," Tank Top Master said. "Thank you."
"Could you tell me more about this guy?" Saitama asked.
"Silverfang once told me that Garou is a martial arts prodigy that would one day rival him," Tank Top Master said. "I didn't believe him until I met him for myself. All of my attacks were blocked, parried or dodged. He used throws and counters against me by reading my moves. He uses his opponent's power against them to deal twice the damage. He strikes joints and soft spots like organs to impair their ability to fight back. Most monsters let loose their strength with reckless abandon, striking at anything in their path. This man was different. He used his technique to break me. He's the perfect counter to a hero."
"Hmm…" Saitama muttered, resting his head on his hand. "This Garou guy sounds like a nuisance. Thanks. Rest up."
Saitama turned to walk away, but Tank Top Master called out to him. "Saitama! If you go after him, don't hold back. He won't show you any mercy. Don't give him that courtesy."
Saitama just nodded. "Consider it done."
Amai Mask inspected his head in the mirror. Satisfied with his appearance, he dismissed the hairdresser with a wave. The man bowed slightly and left.
Amai Mask looked over his notes again. He felt the temptation to ball the papers up, march out there and tear the fools outside to shreds. How dare they question him? His word should be good enough for those pathetic peons. As always, he pushed the temptation down. It would do no good for a hero to act so callously.
There was a knock at the door. "You're on in two minutes."
Amai Mask stood and brushed off his jacket. He rarely dressed in a suit like this. It felt too stiff, too uncomfortable. He typically wore designer clothes that, while tight, were snug. He could practically feel the fabric of this suit strangling him. It made him want to tear the clothes off and rip them to shreds.
But today he would make an exception. Amai Mask walked out the door and towards the stage. He approached the podium, ignoring the flashes of cameras.
"Hello. I am here to address the controversy and rumors surrounding an individual within our organization. This individual joined the Hero Association a few months ago and was placed in A-Class. They have been rapidly rising the ranks and currently sit at A-Class Rank 12. His hero name has recently been certified as the Amber Annihilator.
"Some believe that this individual is cheating, and that's how he has risen so quickly. He has also been spotted with some members of the S-Class, leading others to believe he has blackmailed them, and used their influence to climb the ranks.
"I confronted this individual the other day about these rumors, and he told me that he doesn't, and I quote, 'want to make a big deal of things'. Per his request, I will simply say one thing. We at the Hero Association take our jobs very seriously. The security of the world is our first priority, and we do not tolerate those that threaten it. If this individual had been doing any of the things he had been accused of, make no mistake, I would have crushed him myself. Any questions?"
There was a brief moment where the only sound was the frigid air blowing in from the ventilation. Then one reporter raised his hand. "What about the attack on J-City? He admitted to stealing the credit from other heroes?"
"It is not my place to say, but I believe he was making a point," Amai Mask said. "I am happy to say that his message was received."
"And what was this message you believe he was trying to send?" the man asked.
"If you are too simple to understand his words there is no point in me repeating them," Amai Mask said. It was hard to keep himself from snarling. "However, I advise you to pay very close attention to that particular encounter."
"And what of his scores on the Hero Association Entrance Exam?" A female reporter asked. "Surely those must have been faked."
"I assure you they are not," Amai Mask replied.
"That's impossible, no one could achieve scores like that," the woman scoffed.
"Are you calling me a liar?" Amai Mask asked.
"No, of course not," the woman replied.
"Then they are accurate," Amai Mask said.
"What about his recent sightings with the S-Class?" Another man asked.
"What about them?" Amai Mask said.
"Surely you cannot condone the S-Class affiliating with the likes of him," the man said.
"What the S-Class do in their spare time is none of my concern," Amai Mask said. "I will say this though. In my time working with the S-Class, I have realized that it is comprised of individuals with strong, and often clashing personalities. Perhaps you should wonder why they have put aside their differences and stood by this one man."
"What if this man does turn out to be a fraud?" Another reporter asked.
"I can assure you he is not," Amai Mask replied.
"How can you be so certain?" They asked.
"I have witnessed him in battle with my own eyes. He is no fraud," Amai Mask stated.
"Are you sure? He won his battle with the Deep Sea King only because previous heroes had weakened it for him. He could have deceived you," they said.
"Again, I urge you to look carefully at that encounter. And yes, I am absolutely certain he did not deceive me," Amai Mask said.
"What has the Hero Association done to prevent cases of cheating and fraudulent behavior?" Another female reporter asked.
"As you know, we base our hero rankings on a number of factors, including popularity, hero work and monster extermination. Heroes are promoted when they exhibit these qualities. We use hard evidence, such as video recordings and the hero's as well as any civilians nearby testimonies to measure the work the hero does. These and more are put under the heroes file, and whenever there is doubt on a hero, we consult these and ensure the hero is adhering to the standards we set," Amai Mask said.
"But what if the person responsible for these reviews is bribed or blackmailed?" The reporter asked.
"There is no one person given the responsibility of looking over our heroes," Amai Mask said. "We have other safeguards against these kinds of things as well."
"Can you elaborate on that?" They asked.
"For the security and privacy of our staff, I cannot," Amai Mask said. "Thank you, that's all the time we have for today."
Amai Mask walked off stage, ignoring the numerous questions shouted at him. When he was out of sight of the cameras, he smirked to himself. That couldn't have gone better.
You're not a weapon.
The words had been playing on repeat in her mind for days. She hadn't slept much. Whenever she closed her mind, terrible images would appear on her eyelids. Then she'd hear his voice, and her eyes would fly open.
You're not a weapon.
She didn't know why those words had embedded themselves so deeply into her core. They clung to her, like barnacles to the hull of a ship. They burrowed so deeply into her mind, she couldn't do anything without hearing those words.
You're not a weapon.
She stared at her ceiling, unseeing. She had lost track of time a while ago. Every now and then she'd hear her communicator buzz. She never answered. Some other hero probably dealt with whatever it was, since eventually the noises stopped.
You're not a weapon.
She had done terrible things. Awful things. She hurt people, in ways they'd never recover. She'd destroyed things, ripped them apart and sent them asunder. There was blood on her hands. So much blood. She would never be clean.
You're not a weapon.
Her parents gave her up. Tossed her out like trash. They always hated her. They looked at her with fear and disgust. They drank to forget she existed. They practically begged the bad men to take her away. And when he brought her back home, they never welcomed her. Barely acknowledged her. Like they were just waiting for the day she'd be gone from their lives again.
You're not a weapon.
They studied her. Experimented on her. Cut her open to see how she ticked. They made her fight. Made her bleed. And when she said no, they'd lock her up and torment her until she begged to get out. And then she made others suffer.
You're not a weapon.
They taught her how to break things. She snapped and ripped and teared and smashed and destroyed things in every way possible. She burned, froze, electrocuted, crushed, drowned. She was their greatest destroyer.
You're not a weapon.
They told her she was the strongest. That she was the best. That this pain would make her stronger. The more it hurt, the stronger she'd become. And she got strong. So, very strong. Too strong for them. Too strong to control. So they collared her. She still had scars from where it zapped her. They blinded her. Made her helpless. Alone.
You're not a weapon.
Everyone was scared of her. Disgusted by her. Even after he had saved her, she had been alone. Her parents didn't care about her. No one at school cared about her, not the students, not the teachers, not the principal. They hated her. They'd whisper, laughing behind her back. They betrayed her. Told her pretty lies and laughed as she fell for them.
You're not a weapon.
She didn't need them. She didn't need anyone. She learned to survive on her own. She taught herself how to be strong. They could laugh all they wanted, they were still weak. They could whisper as they pleased, none of them would stand as tall as her. She was the best. She was the strongest. She would stand on her own.
You're not a weapon.
She saved them.
She blinked. The ceiling came in and out of focus in the dark of her bedroom.
You're not a weapon.
They cheered because they were afraid of her. Because they were weak and she was strong. Because they were too weak to save themselves.
They cheered because when they were scared, when they needed to be saved, she was there.
You're not a weapon.
Fubuki had always been there. When she was alone, Fubuki sat with her. When she was hungry, Fubuki gave her food. When she was angry, Fubuki listened.
Fubuki was scared of her. Fubuki hated her. Fubuki argued with her. Fubuki insisted on being weak. Didn't Fubuki know the only way to survive was to be strong? Didn't Fubuki know that she couldn't live without her?
You're not a weapon.
Saitama wasn't scared of her. Saitama didn't hate her. Saitama never argued with her. Saitama never looked at her with disgust. Saitama would never whisper behind her back or laugh at her. Saitama would never betray her. Saitama was proud of her. Saitama thought she was strong.
Saitama left her.
Saitama thought she would be ok. Saitama thought that her home would be safe. Saitama thought her parents would love her. Saitama never meant to hurt her. Saitama never thought she would yearn for him to appear and save her again.
You're not a weapon.
Then what was she?
She stared at the ceiling. It was dark in the room. It had been dark. She couldn't remember the last time she had turned on the lights.
She sat up. She looked down at her hands. They shook, trying to rid themselves of all the blood. She clenched her fists. Eventually, the shaking stopped. She inhaled deeply, then let go. She felt her body relax. She cupped her palms together. From her fingertips, streams of energy formed. They gathered above her hands, merging into a ball. She held it there, in her hands. It shone brilliantly, brightening the room. It wasn't destructive and it couldn't hurt anyone.
You're not a weapon, Tats.
She could make light.
