"Sometimes in life, you have to make a selfish decision and do what's best for you." – Saquon Barkley
Quick Note: There is a character here you will recognize from Friendly Foreign Dimensional Exchange Student Spiderman! That will be explained below!
Time is a valuable commodity in the world. In the eyes of everyone, it seems as if there's never enough of it to go around. No matter what others may like to believe about their superhuman society, they are still bound by those rules. Shouta was a firm believer in the idea of not wasting time on pointless arguments, whatever stupid requests come through the door, and giving second chances to those unwilling to change. It's why Shouta stared at his phone, contemplating whether his friend, coworker and fellow pro-hero of nearly ten years, was actually bullshitting him right now.
Less than an hour ago, Nemuri sent him a text message asking if he could swing by her place and help resolve a situation that's happened.
At first, he suggested calling the police and having them resolve the situation. The more twisted part of him questioned deep down if his long-time friend was exaggerating the situation and trying to waste his time. His usual method of going in with a sledgehammer managed to evoke a reaction from the usually playful Midnight.
"You want the truth? Fine, a golden portal opened up right outside the window to my living room and, out of it, came out some kid with a costume underneath his clothes. Does that sound like the usual thing our local officers are trained to handle? I don't want to put them or this kid in danger if whoever created the portal is still out there."
Shouta can deal with her constantly teasing him about his nonexistent dating life. The jabs about when he'll stop expelling half his entire class within the first days of a brand new school year. He's learned to deal with such things from Nemuri because she knew when to get serious about a situation. This is how she's always been since the first time they met at U.A High. Besides, the other noticeable part was her sudden phone call at such a late hour after he thought she was going insane or trying to exaggerate just how serious the situation is.
He always did appreciate how she was able to act professionally around him during most situations. One of the quickest ways of pissing him off was wasting his time, and his friend completely understood that part about him. Still, there were a dozen questions racing through his mind about the information she sent him.
A golden portal? Potentially, it was someone using their quirk. The only problem is Shouta isn't aware of anyone possessing such a dangerous ability.
If someone was truly out there with the intention to hurt Nemuri, they needed to act quickly.
As for the kid with the costume, Shouta was unsure of what to think about the information. Maybe it's a second or third-year student who got cocky and tried fighting a dangerous opponent. Until he walked into the apartment and came face-to-face with him, there was nothing more to say on the matter. Even at the ripe age of twenty-seven years old, the underground hero was starting to feel like his work never ended.
He raised the goggles on his face before rubbing his eyes, 'I'm getting too old for this shit.'
The exhausted-looking hero decided against traveling across rooftops or using the alleyways to mask his approach. No, Shouta took the bus to his friend's apartment building. There was no point in wasting his energy while public transportation was still running at this time of the night. Oh, the joys of paying a few yen and getting to where he needed.
Sometime later, the bus arrived at the correct stop and allowed Shouta to get off.
He nearly rolled his eyes at the sight of U.A High off in the distance. 'You get what you pay for, Nemuri.' He was always wondering how his friend made it to school earlier than most. 'This explains a lot.'
The walk, thankfully, to her apartment building didn't take long. He remembered seeing the building in the distance as he stepped off the bus. Upon reaching her address, Shouta's eyes slightly widened as he saw another familiar face. Must be more serious than he originally believed if she called their friend, Hizashi, into the fray.
Compared to his ragged appearance, Hizashi stood out in any crowd. Blonde hair, stupid amber-colored aviators, and clothes better suited for someone in the music industry. The man was casually whistling a tune as he stood around in a lackadaisical manner. Sometimes, Shouta really did wonder how they were able to remain friends over the years.
Shouta's footsteps must have gotten louder as he saw his blonde friend turn to face him. A stupid grin had replaced the boring look previously seen on his face. "Hey, buddy! I see Nemuri called you too?"
Shouta ignored the question from his friend. He crossed his arms, "What are you doing here?"
"Same reason as you," Hizashi replied back. "Nemuri asked me to come over because something happened. I'm not gonna ignore a friend in need."
For once, the underground pro-hero is impressed by his friend. Looks like he's matured a lot since graduating from U.A High and, shockingly, getting married. That last part is hard for Shouta to believe sometimes. But, deep down, he's happy to see how much Hizashi cares for all of them.
"There's no reason to be worried like that. She can take care of herself in a fight." The exhausted hero attempted to dispel whatever concerns Hizashi had about their friend. "Now, let's head inside before I decide to change my mind."
Soon, the two men walked into the apartment building. The first thing Shouta noticed was the sorry state of the building. Looks like the landlord wasn't too interested in maintaining the place. Shouta doubted the benefits of a quick train ride to Musutafu, home to their place of employment, was worth living here. At the end of the day, he knew his friend chose to live here. If that's her decision, Shouta won't ever say a word about it again.
They soon stood in front of her apartment after reaching the third floor. Shouta didn't hesitate to reach out and knock hard on the wooden door. They waited for the door to open. Time was of the essence, and it seemed Nemuri understood that.
A moment later, the door was unlocked and gently swung open.
Media outlets always made an enormous fuss about Nemuri and her outfits. Shouta had gotten used to seeing his friend in her scandalous outfits, coming to terms with why she wore them. However, he did know people would be shocked to know this woman wore normal clothes like jeans and a pink t-shirt as well. The only thing his attention was fixated on was the complicated look on her face. Over the years, he grew used to this woman acting her age, not the persona she built up.
One might say it was concerning to hear this woman calling for help suddenly.
"Are you okay?"
Unlike his blonde friend, Shouta chose to remain silent. He was never the type to open up and ask those kinds of questions. No, the underground hero preferred to ignore their interactions and look deeper into the apartment. The first thing that caught his eye was the shattered window in the back. Almost the entire glass pane was gone from whatever broke it. He tried searching for the so-called boy with a costume, but couldn't seem to find him.
"Do you want to stand here at three in the morning? Or do you two want to figure this out?" Shouta disrupted the quiet conversation between his friends.
The silence from his friend answered the question better than words could. Afterward, she quietly sighed before moving out of their way and allowing them into the apartment. Shouta walked in without a second thought. The quicker they discussed whatever happened, the quicker they can resolve this and move on. He managed to hear Hizashi being a bit more polite than him.
Now, it was time to go to work.
Shouta started searching for any signs of a fight. Usually, villains and criminals avoided attacking the residency of a hero. The consequences for attempting such an operation were unbelievably harsh, and he's heard about the ones who suggest such an insane idea are typically ostracized in the criminal world. A high-risk idea with no real reward attached to it. Maybe settling a personal vendetta, but nothing the average criminal would go so far as to bring up. The thing is Shouta decided to search the other rooms in her apartment.
They couldn't risk the possibility of someone deciding to leave her a dangerous present. But, luckily, he found nothing of the sort. As far as he can tell, the place is clean.
Questions started to surface as he wondered what did go down here. Most importantly, Shouta wanted to ask questions about the boy lying on the couch. From the looks of him, a foreigner. Caucasian. Late teens or early twenties, but the babyface indicated the former.
As someone exposed to the criminal underworld far more regularly than his two friends, he grew used to the idea of children being put in harm's way. Criminals didn't always spare children if the situation called for it. There's a decent chance the boy was tossed through the window against his will.
"So this is the kid you mentioned over our phone call?"
"He is."
"Was there anything on him to ID him? A driver's license, student ID, or a fake ID for all I care?" He asked, looking away from the unconscious boy towards the black-haired woman.
She pulled out a wallet from her pocket, "I did actually."
"What's his name?" Shouta inquired.
"For starters, my mystery guest is not from Japan. But I doubt his appearance screamed 'Japanese' to either of you," Nemuri said to them. He watched her take out a plastic card from his wallet. "His name is Peter Parker. Apparently, he's a high school student and attends someplace called Midtown High, based in New York City."
The ramifications of the boy being from overseas complicated everything and made their job harder. Finding a solution was not the most difficult part. It was trying to figure out why this boy landed in his friend's apartment in the middle of the night. The first possibility Shouta came up with was the portal didn't have a specific direction. Helps to explain why he's wearing a winter jacket, a hat, and clothing better suited for the cold. But no sane person wore this stuff in the summer. And New York can be just as muggy in the summer as Tokyo can be from what a few people from the famous city have told him. Not to mention the timezone difference. The other element of his theory is the costume exposed for everyone in the room to see.
Shouta had seen many costumes throughout his career as a hero. Some went for the eye-catching types to stand out from the crowd. Others like himself went for a far more practical design. The boy named Peter Parker looked as if he went for the former. A big reason is the golden spider design right on his chest. It made him stick out like a sore thumb and acted as a target for anyone wishing to harm him.
'You sometimes forget kids aren't always the best costume designer,' He knew the reason why students were allowed to make them, and he agreed to it within reason. To allow them to learn.
"So we're dealing with a foreign kid that got tossed through your coffee table and came out from some portal like a sack of potatoes," Shouta heard Hizashi speak up as he's been relatively quiet, peering over Shouta's shoulder to look down at the kid. "Can't say I've dealt with a case like this before. It's a cool suit though."
The simple compliment aimed at the young boy's hero costume nearly made the underground hero roll his eyes. "A flashy costume or not, we need to figure out if we're going to call the police. This is clearly something they can handle more effectively than we can. A lost hero-in-training has a better chance of finding his way home through the proper channels, not us." A misconception people had about heroes was their ability to act like the police. That was the farthest thing from the truth. No one hero, save for All Might, and those with clout like Endeavor or Best Jeanist, possessed the same level of authority as the police. Helping a student make their way home was included there.
However, the looks in his friends' eyes told him a different story. 'Please don't tell me they actually want to do this themselves,' Shouta could feel a migraine coming, and he was staring at the very cause of it with a twitch of his eyebrow. 'I really am going to regret coming here.'
"I don't want to call the police until we hear the boy's story directly from him. Don't you think it would be logical to hear him out? If we feel like he's lying to us, then we call the police. Otherwise, I don't want to get Mr. Parker into trouble if it's all a misunderstanding."
"What's there to misunderstand?" Shouta shrugged. "Regardless if it was his fault for breaking your window. He was chucked in here unconscious through a portal quirk. Getting him to the U.S. Embassy is our best bet if you ask me."
He could see the conflict on her face. In the back of his mind, Shouta knew why she seemed to be advocating for the boy. It was a mistake on her part to have those kinds of emotions affect her decision-making. There's nothing for them to do here. Calling the police and handing the boy over to them is the right choice.
The living room became awfully quiet until he heard his friend ask him once more, "I know. I...I just don't feel right about handing him to the police so quickly. Besides, aren't you the very least curious as to why he came out of some portal? Doesn't it concern you to know there might be someone out there with malicious intentions towards him?"
All those questions weren't wrong, Shouta admitted, as he thought about them.
Logically, this boy named Peter Parker is the only person who might know something about the person responsible for sending him here. The police might be more concerned with returning a lost student and citizen to their nation than the possibility of a villain utilizing their teleportation quirk for evil deeds and this could be the start of something. 'I can't believe I'm actually considering it,' Shouta knew his friends were a band influence. He was starting to warp his sense of logic due to their presence. But, deep down, the tired hero did take up this job to help others.
Shouta eased back on the irritated look and simply took a seat in a nearby chair.
"Fine, we'll do it your way. If things go south, however..."
"Yeah, police. Made that loud and clear Eraser." Nemuri almost rolled her eyes.
All that remained was to wait for the young man named Peter Parker to wake up and explain himself as being thrown into someone's living room was bound to earn some confusion…
(X)
Peter searched his head desperately to find the right words capable of describing the pain his headache was causing him. When he managed to open his eyes, the young man was met with an odd sight. He expected to see the cloudy skies of New York. Instead, there was a ceiling above him, and it looked kind of crappy. Even by New York standards.
The hero started sitting up slowly, not wanting his headache to worsen with sudden movement. He was still reeling from his encounter with Doctor Strange from some other universe. Fortunately, the headache began to subside. It gave him a chance to figure out where he ended up. The first thing, however, he noticed was a shattered window a few feet away from him.
Immediately, alarm bells went off in his head. 'Please do not tell me I crashed into someone's place. That would suck so bad if it was the case,' The fear in the back of his mind was confirmed after noticing a few shards of glass on the floor. When he swung his legs off the couch, Peter's eyes soon landed on a chair across from him. A hint of anxiety shot through him as he took in the man's appearance. Long unkempt black hair, dark clothing, and some weird scarf-thing around his neck. The oddest was definitely the goggles covering his eyes.
Did he wake him up?
Did this apartment belong to him or someone else?
'Hope they're not too mad about the window,' Peter was starting to think his life was always going to be full of these chaotic moments. He managed to find the strength to stand up from the couch and start walking over to the man in the chair. "Uh, sir, are you awake?" He asked while approaching.
At first, the man remained motionless in the chair. Other than his chest slightly rising and falling, there was nothing to indicate he was aware of Peter's presence. Feeling bad about trying to wake him up, Peter moved away from the sleeping man. He soon ended up in front of the shattered window. In the distance, he saw the semblance of a skyline lighting up the night sky. Peter squinted his eyes as he walked closer to the window to get a better look at them. None of the buildings were recognizable. The Empire State Building, World Trade Center, and the Chrysler Building were all missing. The other buildings he's grown used to seeing during his time as Spider-Man were all gone as well.
Peter came to a single conclusion about his current location; he was no longer in New York City.
Disappointed by the realization, he turned his attention toward the apartment's interior. It seemed to be on the smaller side. There wasn't a wall separating the kitchen from the living room. A few pieces of furniture were spotted throughout the place. But what stood out was all the photos hanging on the walls. Peter, growing curious about who lived here, examined some of them. A common theme, he noticed, in each of them was an Asian woman, with bright blue eyes and jet-black hair. Some appeared to be taken with family. Others looked like they were taken with friends. All Asian.
One stood out from the endless sea of them.
There were three people in the picture. All of them wore uniforms and appeared to be in high school. Varying levels of emotions across their faces, but he noticed how each of them was carrying a diploma of some sort in their hands. Graduation maybe? The mentioning of graduation made Peter remember how he was never going to experience that final day of high school with Ned, Michelle, or the others in his class. Doctor Strange didn't lie about his existence being scrubbed from everyone and everything.
It meant his school records at Midtown High were erased, forcing him to restart his entire academic career from scratch. He shook his head at the thought, "Now isn't the time to worry," Peter muttered in frustration, looking away from the picture. "I got to apologize for what happened and get out of here."
"...Aw, you already want to leave? I just asked a friend of mine to get breakfast for all of us."
Hearing someone's voice in the room caused Peter to freeze on the spot. He looked over his shoulder and saw a woman in what appeared to be a pink t-shirt and skinny blue jeans walk into the living room. A few things stuck out to him. The woman's long black hair and sky-blue eyes made her really pretty in his eyes. Surprisingly, she was almost as tall as him. The big one was realizing she was the woman from those photos on the wall, which meant he was thrown into her apartment. "This is just great," Peter whispered sarcastically. "I'm screwed now."
Then, another detail came to mind about the woman standing a few feet away from him.
It had to do with how the person spoke to him. He's no language expert, but there was a definitive accent to her English. More importantly, Peter noticed a few things around the apartment and came to a conclusion he didn't want to admit.
"...I'm going to guess I'm not in New York anymore. I'm right, aren't I?"
The woman dropped the smile on her face. She frowned at him, "What makes you believe you're not in New York anymore?"
Peter was almost certain he was no longer in his home city anymore. "The skyline doesn't look right to me. All the buildings I'm used to seeing from my borough aren't there anymore," The mentioning of this information really put things into perspective for Peter. After spending years in the famous concrete jungle, he knew all the best routes to cut his swinging time if an emergency happened. The woman confirmed his greatest fear about where he ended up.
"Unfortunately, you're right. You are nowhere near New York. In fact, you're not even in America. This is Japan, and you're currently standing in my apartment." Peter cringed at the last part before peeking at the broken window. His awkward reaction must've been amusing as the woman laughed. "Don't worry about the window. I won't be charging you or anything. I have insurance to cover for what happened several hours ago."
"Couple hours ago? What, uh, happened a few hours ago?" Peter asked, trying to paint a picture for himself. "My memory is a little...foggy at the moment."
He really did hate lying to the woman, but the young hero was desperate to find out if his encounter with the fake Doctor Strange was real. Or a really, really screwed-up nightmare. The expression on her face softened up, making him feel even guiltier.
At least she can speak very good English. Trying to play charades with someone who doesn't speak your tongue would be a pain and a half...
"You...You don't remember what happened?"
Peter clarified what he meant, "I know what happened. I-I don't know how I ended up halfway across the world."
His words had their intended effect as the woman's concern was replaced with a look of understanding. "That's understandable," She said to him. "More importantly, I wanted to see if you were okay. You woke up a lot sooner than my friends and I anticipated."
"I, uh, heal pretty quick" Peter replied nervously.
On the outside, Peter seemed to be relatively calm. He's been through plenty of weird and deadly moments since becoming a hero. The problem is underneath his calm exterior was a young man panicking and struggling to find the right answer to what was going to be an awkward conversation. How do you explain your situation to someone? The big thing is if the woman saw something beyond comprehension. In recent years, people have witnessed events that seemed more fiction than reality comes to life. Aliens looking for magic rocks created during the Big Bang. Gods and magic turn out to be real. Even the multiverse, considered a fantasy by scientists, turned out to be real. It made him wonder if telling the truth was the best case for him...
Beyond the conversation about revealing his situation, Peter had no clue about what to do next.
"Anyway, I should introduce myself. My name's Nemuri Kayama. What's your name, handsome?"
Peter blushed at the 'handsome' comment from the woman. He cleared his throat before revealing his name to her, "Peter Parker."
"Alright, Mr. Parker, it's nice to meet you. If you wanted my attention, I suggest finding an alternative to breaking my window," Ms. Kayama seemed amused by how flustered he appeared to be. "And my coffee table. I kind of liked it."
"D-Did I break your coffee table too?" Peter saw a pile of broken wood in the corner of the room. He made out the familiar look of legs and a large piece snapped in two. "I am so sorry!" He exclaimed, a little louder than needed as it woke up the man in the chair. "I did not mean to break your stuff. It...It was not my intention."
The woman, shockingly, continued to be nice to him. "Calm down," She told him in a firm but gentle manner. "Don't worry about the window or table. It's just stuff. I can go and replace it any time I need to. All I'm worried about is making sure you're okay and finding out why you ended up here. Afterward, we'll help you get back home. You okay with that arrangement?"
"Y-Yes," Peter was blown away by the kindness she was showing him. The last few weeks have been rough for him. "Sorry if I seem off..." Peter never finished his sentence. Instead, he chose to change the topic. The last thing he needed right now was for people to start asking questions about his personal life, or the non-existent one after the spell took effect. He shook his head, "...Never mind. Just glad to know you're not mad...and really happy to hear someone offer me any help."
"It doesn't mean there aren't questions for you to answer."
Peter flinched upon hearing a deeper, monotone voice coming from near the window. He turned his head in that direction and saw the man he previously saw sleeping on the chair, fully awake with his goggles up. Unlike Ms. Kayama's kind eyes, this man stared at him with dark bloodshot eyes filled with boredom and a hint of annoyance. Peter had a feeling things were about to get much worse after this man decided to enter the conversation and, like Ms. Kayama, he spoke in really good English, better than most people he imagined.
A memory from his past burrowed its way to the surface. His first-time meeting a man named Nick Fury, Peter felt as if he was experiencing that all over again. Just like the former SHIELD director, the man with the funny scarf didn't hesitate to ask questions.
"You mind telling us why she found blood on your coat?" The first question, as expected, hit home hard. The funny scarf man stared at him with his arms crossed, waiting for an answer most likely. Peter, on the other hand, ignored his surroundings as he remembered what happened.
The visit to the cemetery ended with the fake Dr. Strange stabbing him in the chest with a magical blade, bleeding like a stuck pig, and witnessing the world around him starting to fall apart as if it were rotting from the inside out. Yet what terrified him more than anything was looking at the gravestones of his aunt and uncle before everything went dark. His chest tightened up at the phantom pain. Subconsciously, Peter placed a hand over his heart.
Did...Did he die again?
"Your fate isn't death. So...take solace in that knowledge."
Those were the final words he heard from the powerful wizard. He wasn't sure if he should believe the Dr. Strange doppelganger. Believing a man who stabbed him in the chest is a little hard to do for anyone. Maybe Thor might be willing to forgive someone like his brother, but Peter's encounter with the fake Dr. Strange led to him being whisked away once more from his home.
"Answer the question."
The funny scarf man looked like he was getting impatient if the glare he sent his way was any indicator. Lying about the blood would only make them think he was guilty and did something wrong. He closed his eyes and quietly admitted the truth, "The blood...it belongs to me, sir."
"Were you fighting someone?" He asked, immediately.
"A fight?" The idea of fighting a man with access to extreme levels of magical power was insane. It's why Peter considered himself lucky after managing to tie up the powerful wizard by the luck of having some really damn good grades in geometry. Otherwise, he would've been screwed. However, the encounter in the cemetery was anything but a fight. A conversation that ended in murder? Probably the aptest description of what went down. "No, I was...visiting a relative. Along the way, someone ambushed me. They, uh, hurt me pretty bad."
"Do you remember who did it?"
Explaining his 'death' at the hands of a wizard was the last thing he needed to say to these two. Instead, Peter lied to them.
"I don't."
"So how do you explain why my friend here saw you coming out of a...golden portal? What about that?"
"You...You saw a golden portal?" Peter asked in disbelief while looking at Ms. Kayama, who nodded her head. The simple gesture caused the young hero to realize there was no way to keep lying. "Did you see anyone else besides me?"
"No, I only saw you come out of it."
Frustration started bubbling inside him. For the second time in his life, he was killed. Unlike the Snap, Peter was doubtful anyone was coming to look for him. But he wanted to find a way back home and warn Stephen about his doppelganger wandering around in their universe. The other major difference is there aren't some magical space rocks that might be able to bring him home. Those were destroyed after Mr. Stark used them to beat Thanos and his army.
...Meaning his options to get back home were very limited.
Either he got lucky and managed to land somewhere else on the planet, or the fake Dr. Strange sent him to another universe. Adding insult to misery is the involvement of magic. The disastrous mess that led to his whole life getting flipped upside down made him terrified of dealing with that stuff ever again. Besides, it's not like Peter knew a damn thing about it anyway.
Still, landing in another universe was a terrifying concept.
Peter brought his hand to his mouth as he felt his blood freeze and a pit form in his stomach. Again.
He hated getting this feeling.
"Fuck."
The curse came out louder than Peter originally intended, grabbing the attention of both adults. Ms. Kayama appeared ready to say something to him until she was caught off by the man with the funny scarf.
"What about your costume?"
Alarm bells began ringing in his head. 'Did...Did they look under my clothes? A-Are you kidding me? Is this happening all over again?!' Peter's eyes widened in terror at the man's question. For a brief moment, he thought about running towards the broken window and getting as far away as possible from here. Mysterio revealing his identity to the world screwed everything up. The young hero feared what would happen if it was revealed for a second time. Unlike last time, he had no one to lend a hand to him anymore.
No Dr. Strange to assist him.
No Peters from other universes to swing by and offer help.
His friends weren't by his side anymore.
"C-Costume?" Peter attempted to downplay the revelation. "You mean the one I'm wearing, right? Ah, that's just what I was wearing on my way to a party."
Peter could feel his eyes bore right into him.
"I thought you said you were attacked while heading to visit a relative."
The suspicion in the man's voice was clearly heard by everyone in the room. Peter was beginning to run out of options. The ever-growing pit in his stomach was nearly unbearable as the man's dark eyes narrowed at him, most likely agitated with him. Possibly even furious with him. It looks like running might be the best option if things do go south. Being exposed as Spider-Man was the last thing he needed to happen again.
Before his fight-or-flight instincts took over, Ms. Kayama came to his rescue. "Parke- I mean, Peter, nothing will happen to you," she told him gently. "We're just asking questions, and doing our best to be as understanding as possible, isn't that right, Shouta?"
Peter saw the haggard-looking man briefly regard Ms. Kayama with a bored look on his face. The silence from the man didn't last for long as he continued with his questions, "As I said, what hero school did you attend?"
Hero school? Peter was beginning to think the Dr. Strange doppelganger threw him into another universe. That was really a thing here? It sounded utterly ridiculous to him. The idea of a school being created to teach someone how to become a hero was a hard concept to wrap his head around. So he just went with the (former) high school he attended before the reset.
"Midtown High."
"...Never heard of it."
"It's a good school." Peter felt the urge to defend it after hearing the dismissive tone of the man. "Well, it doesn't teach anything about being a hero...but it's a good school regardless."
Suddenly, the two adults reacted very differently to his admission. Ms. Kayama pursed her lips as her eyes held a mixture of concern and confusion. On the other hand, the same couldn't be said for the scarfed man. His stony expression made the hairs on the back of Peter's neck stand up.
"You're a vigilante," He stated. "Aren't you."
"That's...what?" Peter asked, confused by why the man accused of him being a vigilante. "I said this is just a costume."
The man scoffed at him with so much disdain in his voice, "Lying about being a vigilante? You really want to go to prison, don't you? I can assure you, using your quirk without a hero license is illegal in Japan. Do you really want to keep playing stupid with us?"
"Using my what?"
Everything about this conversation was confusing Peter. So many questions were starting to pile up in the back of his mind. He was more and more convinced about what the fake Dr. Strange did to him. This had to be a different universe. Or Japan has gotten really weird in the past few years since Mr. Stark came out as Iron Man at that press conference.
More than anything...
What the hell is a quirk? The scraggly-looking dude made it sound like he was talking about superpowers. Why use a weird term for it? Just call it superpowers for goodness sake.
Peter tried fishing for information to find out if he really did land in a new universe. "Quirks, huh? Are they new by chance?" The awkward laugh certainly didn't help his case. No, it drew the ire of the man as he looked ready to punch him in the face.
"Calm down, Aizawa." Ms. Kayama – bless her heart – placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "The last thing you need is to be talked about in the media for punching someone in my apartment. It's going to be a very, very annoying problem for all of us." She had a smirk on her face next. "Besides, would you like to deal with rumors of two strapping young men soliciting at my apartment in the wee hours of the morning? Just imagine the tabloids~"
The shaggy-haired man's eye twitched. Peter, meanwhile, blushed harder than he's ever done in his life. Why was Ms. Kayama saying those kinds of things?!
Despite the inappropriate comment, her words managed to make the man see reason.
"Fine. If Parker wants to continue to act stupid and waste my time, I'll call the authorities myself," The scarf man's words caused Peter's heart to nearly stop. "No need to bother with any more questions if this is how he wishes to act."
The man walked over to the chair and took out his cell phone.
"W-Wait, are you really going to call the cops?" Peter did not need a record. In fact, he's sure the local police aren't going to be able to find his records. They wouldn't even get a name if they asked anyone in the US government.
"Continue to waste my time with petty lies and feigning ignorance about common knowledge is a good way to get me to call the police." The harsh tone coupled with the furious look in his eyes made Peter stop and think for a second.
Is he really thinking about telling these people the truth?
The truth is...what did he gain to lose from saying all those outlandish ideas like aliens being real, gods who played Fortnite, and magic strong enough to make anyone or anything forget about someone?
'I am so going to prison.'
Peter saw the man tap on his phone. "Wait! I...I haven't been completely honest with either of you," He said in desperation. It did stop the man from calling the cops as he looked at him. Ms. Kayama did a little gesture with her hand, telling him to keep going. A look of understanding on her face.
He decided to start with how he got here.
"I...I know how I got here...and who made the portal," Peter knew he was taking an enormous risk, but he had no choice. "I was visiting the cemetery. Everything seemed so normal. Snow was on the ground, the skyscrapers were hidden by the clouds, and the quietness of place. But I met someone there, and it was someone I didn't expect."
"Who?" The scarf man asked, continuing to look at his phone as he was moments away from pressing the call button.
"A man named Stephen Strange," He hated throwing the wizard's name under the bus. It's just to ease them into the story of what happened. "The man spoke to me for a brief amount of time, saying he was here to...rectify the mistakes a friend of mine made. To be fair, it was more my mistake than his."
How long has it been since the incident? At this point, Peter lost count after a few weeks. The days started to meld together. Days turned into weeks. It was fall when everything fell apart. On the day of his encounter with Dr. Strange's doppelgänger, winter had arrived quicker than he imagined. What was supposed to be a brief explanation to satisfy their curiosity about him...turned into something for Peter. For the first time since losing his friends and May, there were people listening to him.
What came afterward was nothing but the raw emotions building up inside for weeks...if not months.
"I...I should be dead," Peter tried to take a deep breath as he forced himself to remember. The admission unnerved the two adults. He ignored them, however, as the words kept spilling out. "He stabbed me right in the heart. The pain...God...it was impossible to tell you what the feeling was like. But what I do remember is falling to my knees." He rubbed his eyes and took another deep breath once more, his voice coming out shaky. "The very last thing I saw...was the gravestones of my aunt and uncle...the only family I had left," What hurt was not being stabbed by the fake Dr. Strange. No, the worst part was dying in front of his family. They didn't deserve to witness his gruesome end.
After those words left his mouth, the young hero realized something. This was the first time he's ever told his story to someone. To let them know how much he's lost from being Spider-Man and the mistakes he's made.
He was forced to place a hand against the nearby wall, slumping against it. Ms. Kayama rushed over to his side and helped him to the couch. As he looked over at her, he saw concern and empathy written all over her face and her sapphire eyes as she sat by his side. Peter quietly thanked her.
It was the first real act of kindness he's experienced in weeks.
Aizawa set his phone down, eyes glued on him, hard but not as piercing as before. "What kind of mistake did you make to warrant such a harsh and overdramatic response?"
Peter knew the answer to the question. The man was only after the truth. So, if he wanted to know the rabbit hole he fell down...
"...I got into some trouble a while ago. I turned to a friend to help me...reverse the misfortune plaguing my life and, more importantly, the lives of those around me."
"It didn't turn out well, did it?"
Peter let out a painful laugh as he remembered going downstairs with Dr. Strange into the dungeon below the Sanctum. "No, sir, it blew up horrifically in our faces...we just didn't realize how bad it was going to turn out," He explained as tears began appearing at the edges of his eyes. "E-Everything started to spin out of control so quickly. No matter what we tried...nothing worked. The only way to fix it was for me to...to give up everything. I lost my friends... I...I lost my aunt...she...she was my mom...and I-I couldn't save her from him."
By the end, he choked up from thinking about May. If he had only listened to Strange about sending them home, she would still be alive. For the rest of his life, Peter has to live with his failure. Those words from Stephen slammed into him properly.
"I'm sorry, May...I'm so sorry."
Every time he visited her grave, Peter never forgot to apologize for what happened to her, his hands going to his face.
He felt someone wrap their arms around him. In response, Peter sank into the embrace of Ms. Kayama as he knew the dam finally burst. He could never escape the monster known as the Green Goblin.
The nightmares involving Norman harassed him ever since that night. The cackling never left his ears. The madness and sadistic glee in his eyes was something he'll never forget. His demented laughing as Peter remembered punching repeatedly in the face, only to hear his laughter grow louder with each hit. Everything about that man terrified Peter to his core. It made him wonder how the oldest Peter dealt with such an evil being.
"Let it out, Peter." Ms. Kayama's calming voice managed to reach him. "There's no reason to bottle all that emotion up. I'm right here...and I'm not going anywhere."
(X)
Shouta, for once, decided against asking any more questions about what happened. But he needed more information. The traumatic experience Parker went through needed to be seen and the underground hero was unable to believe he was actually considering using that favor the old man owed him. In spite of that, he needed proof.
Getting up from the chair, Shouta started heading for the door. He ignored Nemuri calling out to him.
When he stepped outside the apartment, the exhausted hero started looking through his contacts and found the old man's number with a specific label on it...
Araki
Being imaginative was never Shouta's thing. He preferred to be straightforward with people. He soon dialed the number and held the phone against his ear. It wasn't long until someone answered it.
"Didn't expect to hear from you." The old man's grouchy voice never changed.
"Neither did I. I expected you to be half-asleep right given the time," Shouta replied. "Did you get a smartphone or did your paranoia act up again?" He heard the old man huff.
"First, I fall asleep at five, not two in the morning. I have deadlines to make. Second, I am using a cellphone now...but an old one. Can't be tracked. You and three others are my only contacts."
"Figures," Shouta wasn't surprised by the old man's stubbornness. "I can still get you that smartphone that has anti-bug software," He leaned against the wall, managing to hear the sound of the evening trains in the distance.
"I am content with what I got, thank you very much. Anyway..." He groaned lightly. Must be rubbing his eyes. "Why are you calling at this hour?"
Shouta went straight to the point, "I need you to come out of your shack and help me with something."
The person snorted at his request, "Better be worth my time, Aizawa. I need a little jolt of inspiration these days. So what's the reason?"
"It's...complicated to explain over the phone."
"Does it mean you're using the favor I owe you?" The man's question was filled with curiosity.
Shouta glanced over his shoulder as he looked back at the door. he peeked through the space between the door and its frame of it. The scene of Parker being Kayama's arm was replaced with an old memory from when he was still a student at UA High.
Maybe not as heartfelt or emphatic as Nemuri, but having his mentor, Araki, place a hand on his shoulder after witnessing Oboro's death helped. His presence was just enough for Shouta to get through that day.
"Yes, I'm calling in that favor."
"I'll be right over. Send me the address of your location, and this better be worth my damn time or I'm removing you from my contact list, Aizawa." Hyu Araki muttered as Shouta heard some rustling of some paper. Was he at his work desk? Not surprising to the underground hero if that was the case. "Okay, tell me the address."
He gave it verbally, and a moment later, the call came to an end. Shouta took a deep breath before exhaling. Reaching out to his old mentor and asking him to use his quirk was using a big favor. He only hopes it isn't going to be wasted on Parker. However, the combination of guilt, pain and regret in the boy's eyes was like staring into a broken mirror. He's not the only person to have lost a best friend and mother, after all...
Parker's expression and words were hard to be believed, but his facial expressions and tone indicated someone in distress.
Someone in need of a hero.
(X)
Originally, Nemuri was split on why Shouta stood up and left her apartment. Some part of her wanted to believe Peter's story reminded him too much of what happened during their days as students at UA High. The tragedy surrounding Oboro's death was hard to describe. Everyone was affected, especially her two former underclassmen. Shouta and Hizashi may not talk about what they felt in the days following the tragedy, but she knew it changed them as people. What she didn't expect was to hear someone knocking on her door.
Hizashi, who was absent from the conversation, already returned with breakfast for everyone as he was the morning person of their group. Compared to him, Nemuri shared their haggard-looking friend's habit of a terrible sleep schedule.
It was possible to imagine her surprise when she opened the door. Standing less than a few feet away was a man taller than her. Well, an old man to be accurate. His long, scraggly white hair draped his face. The coat he wore looked like he's been using it for decades. On top of that, the cane in his hands probably meant his mobility wasn't as good anymore. The most important thing, however, about the man was the leather suitcase in his free hand.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"First time we've seen each other in years...and this is what you say to me," The old man said in disbelief. He shook his head, "God, you kids have terrible memories these days."
Rude. Grouchy. Leather suitcase.
Those three details led Nemuri to realize who standing across from her. "Mr. Araki? Is that you?"
"Good to see not everything went into your tits."
Yup, it was him. Nemuri used every ounce of self-control to prevent herself from letting a fist fly in the old man's face. She knew he wasn't some weakling. "Nice to see you too. So why are you here?" She may not hate him, but it was confusing to see him after so many years, especially outside her front door.
"Didn't the brat tell you? He asked me to come here."
Nemuri was surprised to hear Shouta went out of his way to contact his former mentor. After their little disagreement, she didn't expect him to ever call Mr. Araki again.
"You gonna let me in or not?"
She moved out of the way and let the old man walk into her home. As she suspected, the man walked with a noticeable limp in his right leg. Either old age is starting to catch up, or he suffered a terrible accident in the past. Whatever the reasoning, Nemuri just wondered why Shouta asked this old man to come all the way down here. It's not every day a living legend like Araki Hyu from the underground hero community shows up at your front door.
The short verbal interaction between a former student and his mentor made Nemuri remember their high school days.
"You look like hammered shit."
"I don't need to hear that from you of all people, old man."
Ten years was looking like not enough time to change how they dealt with each other. Their first time seeing the other person in years and they immediately resort to such harsh words. Nemuri was never going to understand how her friend lasted so long under the tutelage of Mr. Araki. Although, his arrival begged a single question; why was he standing inside her apartment?
"It's obvious, of course. I asked the old man to use his quirk on Parker."
Nemuri was glad to know Peter didn't understand Japanese as the dark-haired woman let her opinion be known by Shouta. "You really want to disregard the boy's privacy like that?" She asked with heat in her voice. "Are we really going to go down this path?"
"This path…" Shouta countered while pointing at his former mentor. "Is going to resolve this situation quicker than an interrogation would. Information that might allow us to help Parker. Is that not what you wanted?"
"Guys, can we cool our jets here?" Hizashi stepped into the conversation, acting as the mediator as he always did for them. "Arguing isn't going to get us anywhere."
Her blonde friend had a point. "I still don't like this," Nemuri made sure to let everyone know her stance on the matter. "The last thing we need to be doing is poking around in his head and looking at his memories like they're some...some kind panel from a manga."
"Alright, let's save the pointless ethics conversation for later." Mr. Araki, blunt as ever, shut down their exchange of words. She watched him walk over to the couch, where Peter was sitting and examined him as if he were some piece of artwork. A moment later, he said something to Shouta. "A kid? Is that the value of my favor? And I thought I taught you how to use the brain in between your shoulders."
"Yes, I think this kid is worth the favor you owe me."
Favor?
Nemuri possessed no memory of Shouta saying Mr. Araki owed him such a valuable thing. It looks like her shaggy-haired friend was keeping a few things in the dark from them. She noticed a similar reaction on Hizashi's face. Maybe something to talk about later, but informing Peter was the next step as they're unsure of how he's going to react.
"Peter," She said, managing to catch his attention. "We'd like to introduce you to someone," Nemuri gestured toward the grumpy old man. "This is Araki Hyu. He's here to...help us get a clearer image of your situation."
"How?"
"Well, think of it this way...he can draw out your memories. Give us a better idea of how to help you and get you home." The effort to make him feel comfortable seemed to be working until Shouta, playing his natural role as the asshole cop, stepped in.
"And it's evidence to see if you're just lying, brainwashed, or insane. Either way, it helps us figure out what to do with you."
Peter went from calm to anxious in a split second. Those words nearly made Nemuri turn around and smack her friend in the back of the neck for being an idiot. God, she wondered if Shouta realized how much his attitude scares people.
She shook her head and smiled at the boy, "Don't worry about what he says. We're gonna help either way. That's a promise."
"...Um, how...how much is he going to see?" His question was certainly a valid one. Mr. Araki only had so much paper.
"Only what he needs to see. Nothing more...nothing less."
Hizashi, thankfully, assisted her in convincing him. "Don't worry about it, Parker. I'll make sure these two grumpy heroes stay in line," The radio host said with an enthusiasm rarely found even in morning people.
Their words of reassurance broke through the hesitation clouding Peter's face. His slight nodding was the green light to allow Mr. Araki to do his job.
While Mr. Araki was preparing his paper and pens, he looked at her and said. "Tell the kid to lie down and relax. An uncooperative patient makes things difficult for me."
Nemuri translated for the old man. It followed with Peter listening to what was asked of him. When he laid down on the couch, she took a moment to realize they might see some things Peter didn't want them to see.
All she could think about was the raw emotions he put on display earlier. It left a major impact on her, and the possibility of it being faked was there, but she was willing to believe Peter. The sheer agony in his voice as he talked about losing everything was gut-wrenching. Losing his friends, family, and even his name. Worst of all, Peter mentioned how he lost his to someone.
'To him, he said.'
She was murdered. That was the only answer fitting such a description. Would they see such a terrible moment? Who knows?
"You done checking the kid out?" Mr. Araki asked mockingly. "I'd like to be done before the sun comes up."
Ignoring his words, Nemuri stood up and moved away from the couch. Shouta, seemingly intent on seeing if Peter was lying, stood by the makeshift desk with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for the old man to begin. Meanwhile, Hizashi grabbed a chair from the kitchen and sat close to Peter.
If Mr. Araki had any problems with their respective distance from him, the man seemed to keep quiet and focus on the task ahead of him. He soon reached over and placed his hand on Peter's forehead. What caught her eye wasn't the glowing eyes. It was the speed of his drawing ability.
His hand flew across the blank pages, depicting the memories of the boy named Peter Parker.
A spider bit him on the hand.
Peter stared at a gravestone while a woman sobbed into his shoulder.
Stopping an out-of-control car with his bare hands. He must be really strong to do that.
The most eye-catching was seeing Peter face a group of individuals in colorful costumes in an airport of some kind. Villains? Nemuri wasn't too sure what to think.
Struggling to fight someone with mechanical wings on a moving plane.
The next memory, more than any other, shattered her beliefs about the world. An enormous, circular-shaped object appeared to be flying over a city.
A giant purple-skinned man with a golden gauntlet glowered at him, "Little insect!"
Then, something horrible happened…
Peter buried his face into someone's shoulder. That drawing faded into darkness. The next page was black. Questions started to arise. Yet the old man continued drawing as his eyes remained glowing.
Next thing she saw Peter looking at the near-dead body of a man in some advanced-looking armor. It's one of the most detailed drawings among them. The scene around him looked apocalyptic. Yet all Peter was fixed on the man before him. A mentor? Maybe a father figure?
She wasn't sure what to think. To anyone looking at these drawings, they would think Mr. Araki was losing his damn mind. It's understandable why people would question what he was drawing. Aliens? Magic rocks? Technology beyond their wildest dreams? All Nemuri could think about was what Peter went through in such a short amount of time.
A drawing that showed Peter looking at some man with green armor while in some bar with some glasses in his outstretched hand.
"Mr. Stark gave me a choice."
Then, Peter was talking to a pretty girl at night. The girl's face was drawn in some very intricate detail, even compared to the dying man.
The happy moment transitioned into Peter seeing drones surround him. He witnessed his environment start to change before his very eyes.
Peter saw insane illusions that made him unable to fight his opponent, ending with him staring at a very familiar face. A train filled his vision as he was hit by it.
He defeated him. Quentin, who put him through Hell was defeated, but dead.
The ceiling was ruined, but the focus was on the man standing over him with a vice grip on his neck as well as a deranged look in his eyes.
A woman in his arms. She was dying.
"...When will people wake up, and realize that everywhere Spider-Man goes...chaos and calamity ensue. Everything Spider-Man touches comes to ruin."
What did this boy deserve to experience all of this? Nemuri thought Peter was a kid. Someone unable to realize the hardships of the world. That didn't appear to be the case at all. He was betrayed by the man he believed could be more responsible than him. It was followed by his aunt being murdered by the man choking him.
Seeing two men with his abilities and similar costumes came to assist him.
The sun was rising as Peter glared at the deranged man near the water. It became brutal as Peter took the glider and was about to stab him until someone stopped him. A man, older than him by quite a few years, dressed in a costume not so very different from his.
A sky falling apart. Some wizard struggling to hold it together.
"We'd have no memory of you. It would be as though you never existed."
"I know. Do it."
A final kiss was shared with a girl. One last hug between friends.
It's winter. Peter was looking at some piece of paper. It ended, however, with him walking out. A tough choice was made on that day.
Mr. Araki seems to be slowing down. Maybe he was reaching the end?
The final drawing depicted Peter's final moments as the world rotted before his eyes. A man who looks exactly like the wizard. Then, a blade in his chest.
"Your fate isn't death. So...take solace in that knowledge."
Mr. Araki dropped the pen in his hand, leaning back in exhaustion befitting of a man his age. The trembling of his hand was a concerning sight, but Nemuri saw the grin on his face and wondered if he went mad. Next to her, Shouta started picking up some of the drawings and looking through them with a careful eye. He remained quiet. The only signs of his reactions were the occasional eyebrow-raising or lightly shaking his head at whatever he looked at. Nemuri picked a specific one from the group. The saddest of them all.
It was Peter staring at the face of his dying aunt.
She looked over at him, still lying on the couch, with a twisted feeling in her stomach.
"Old man, have you lost your mind over these years?" Shouta's question dripped with skepticism. He showed them one, which showcased Peter fighting on a moving plane against someone with mechanical wings. "Am I really supposed to believe Parker went through...everything you've drawn?"
"You should know how my quirk functions, brat." Mr. Araki dismissed the question. He couldn't help but start laughing while examining some of them. "Besides, I've had to deal with people who've tried to make-up phony memories to throw me off their scent. You don't think it's easy to tell what's real and what's not? Frankly, I don't care if you believe this kid's story is real. As far as I can tell, this kid is lost...traumatized beyond belief...and someone who wants to do the right thing. If there's any crime, it's whoever that...wizard fellow who threw him here. I can tell you that man did not have good intentions."
Hearing someone speak about the existence of wizards made Nemuri feel like she was going crazy. She sighed in exasperation before asking the dreaded question on her mind since the old man finished drawing, "From where? Where's Peter from?"
Mr. Araki snorted at her question, "From another Earth...from another universe, as hard as that may be to believe. His ignorance towards our ways is excusable. To go from a place where only a small number of individuals possessed powers...to one like ours...it's not going to be difficult to imagine his shock when he finds out the truth."
"His shock?" Nemuri looked back as Hizashi spoke up. Her blonde friend looked at the drawings on the makeshift table with a mixture of disbelief and awe. "I...may not be the smartest guy in this room. But don't these images change what we know? More importantly, are you completely sure they're not fake in some way?"
"They could be fake memories. A false life." Shouta added, only for Araki to turn his way, eyes narrowed.
"Did you not listen to what I said?" The old man snapped at the two men. "Fake memories always stand out from real ones. Do you know how many criminals I've managed to put away? Discovered their lies? Find out where they buried bodies. Exposed them as murderers? It's like putting another coat of paint on the wall. You can tell what truly lies underneath if you know what you're looking for."
The explanation managed to shut her friend up. Hizashi, uncertainty pointed over his face, looked back at a drawing in his hand. "But do you guys realize what it means for Peter to be here? Proving there's more to the world than we imagined." The point he tried making wasn't lost on Nemuri.
She knew sending Peter home was virtually impossible if his memories were truly real. Sending him back to New York was going to be useless. He had no records, no history, or citizenship. 'Neither did he have any of those things back home,' She mentally added to the list.
A very lengthy conversation needed to happen between them. Nemuri, unaware of what today was going to bring, didn't need long to think about her position. Peter was alone. No family, no friends, and no one to help him. He doesn't exist in the eyes of the world and its governments. What was someone like him supposed to do?
"Um, did the old guy finish...whatever he needed to do?" Peter sat up and looked at them, specifically her.
"He did," Nemuri replied back in English. "Right now...we just need to talk about how to go forward. Is that okay with you?"
"Yeah, that's cool."
"Hizashi, do you mind taking Peter to the kitchen?" She asked her friend. Thankfully, he agreed to do so.
A moment later, the blonde radio host asked their lost guest to come with him. Peter, not aware of the discussion happening, agreed and followed the pro-hero. When they were out of the room, Nemuri saw Shouta continuing to comb through the pile of drawings. He seemed intent on proving what they say is some kind of trick. The unwillingness to believe what he saw was a defining trait of the man.
Hizashi returned after probably giving the boy something to munch on. Soon, all four adults stood around the makeshift desk covered in drawings. The recent memories of Peter Parker were laid out for them to see.
"Are...Are we going to help?" Hizashi caught the attention of her and the others. After noticing their looks from them, he kept going. "I get the guy isn't from...around here, but I don't feel comfortable leaving him out to rot. He's what...seventeen? Eighteen? Basically, a legal adult. He's not going to get anywhere around here...legally speaking."
Nemuri found herself in agreement with her friend, making her feelings known on the matter. "Well, I'm for one putting my foot down. I want to help him."
"Of course, you do." Shouta rolled his eyes at her answer. He placed a drawing back on the table and confronted them head-on about going down this road. "We have to understand something. There is still a sliver of a chance what we see drawn on these papers...is fake. I don't care how much the old man says otherwise. We need to be prepared for the possibility of someone being able to fool you."
The no-bullshit look on he directed at Mr. Araki made the old man ponder on what was said.
"So what?" Nemuri wanted to help Peter. Not even her friend was going to step in the way of that. "Are we going to throw him out? Force him out into an entirely new world without any assistance? The way our society views powers? Is any of this factoring into your thought process?"
"Do you really think I'm stupid? Throwing away someone with potential is the height of irresponsibility, and Parker – if he possesses a shred of the skills and powers shown in these drawings – will more than succeed in this society. The boy can regain what he's lost...but that is up to him. We can't make that decision for him." Shouta's words were quick and to the point. He picked out the one of Peter prepared to use a glider to stab a man in front of him, "Yet we need to be careful about bringing him into this world. I don't care how experienced he is in a fight. There are rules that need to be followed. Lessons he needs to learn. Do you two understand what I mean?"
He made a valid point, Nemuri begrudgingly admitted, about Peter if he wanted to continue being a hero. The need for a hero license was glaringly obvious. He needed to also learn about enough of the laws to get by in Japan. The other important thing is being able to speak Japanese in their society and get used to their culture. English may be more commonly spoken than decades prior, but the dominant language still remains Japanese. Peter was going to need time to adjust if he hopes to succeed here.
"Does this mean you're helping us?" Hizashi asked, taking off his aviators. "Nemuri and I seemed to be in agreement about helping the kid. The language part will take a minute for him to learn as long as he's focused. Plus, there are bound to be tutors willing to teach foreigners. The problem is the license part. We...We don't have the same kind of connections you do with the Hero Public Safety Commission."
"I need to think about it."
His answer made Nemuri frown, "How long?"
"A day or two," Shouta replied honestly. "I can't walk into that building and ask any of them to give me a license for Parker. Doesn't work that way."
"Then what's he going to need to do?" The female hero was familiar with the process for students. As for those beyond high school age, it was a bit of a mystery as Nemuri never really needed to know the process. Almost everyone she knows got their license during their second year of their respective hero course.
Shouta rubbed the back of his neck, "It's not a fun road. Parker doesn't have any records to back him up. It would mean having to be tested far more rigorously than the others in order to make sure he is qualified enough to be a hero. So, he's going to need quite a bit of help to get him up to speed. So, as I said, a pain in the ass."
"But not impossible." Nemuri crossed her arms over her bust.
"Nope."
The explanation satiated her curiosity about what Peter needed to do. While there was a road map with plenty of stops and hoops to jump through for Peter to become a hero in Japan, there was the question of where would he stay. Regardless of his decision, there was nowhere for him to go. She glanced over her shoulder, 'Maybe I can let him stay with me until we figure out this mess?' Nemuri thought about the size of her apartment and wondered if it was big enough for two people. 'I'll resolve this mess later.'
"You all seem ready so ready to choose the kid's future for him." Mr. Araki laughed mockingly.
"What do you mean?"
"No, you're gonna have to ask the kid yourself." The old man didn't say anything more as he started packing up his belongings. He neatly put the drawings into a pile, "As for these drawings, I will be taking these as my payment. Aizawa, walk with me. We need to talk about something. Leave these two with the kid. Unlike them, you suck with younger folks. Or did you stop expelling entire classes?"
"Hang on!" Nemuri placed a hand on the pile of drawings. "What do you mean taking those as a form of payment? Peter's memories aren't for you to use in some manga. The boy has dealt with enough. The last thing he needs is someone ever finding out the connection between him and whatever manga you dream up with this stuff."
The old man groaned in annoyance, "Goodness, you remind me why I swore off women." He looked at her with a serious expression. "This is how I get paid for the job I do. What better way of coming up with ideas...than simply using what I see on a daily basis. Don't you think so? If not, I don't freaking care. You're gonna have to take this up with the brat next to me because he knows what the price tag is. None of you realize what this has done for my muse. Ideas are simply writing themselves out in my mind."
He moved her hand off the stack and placed them into his leather suitcase.
"If you'll excuse me, I have some work to do."
Nemuri wanted to stop Mr. Araki from walking away. Before she was able to take a step, Hizashi waved her off and shook his head. The message from the radio host was simple; don't bother trying to argue with him.
"Fine. Let's go see how Peter's doing." Nemuri glared at the backside of the old man before looking at Shouta with a hint of disappointment towards her friend for hiding that particular end of the agreement. Sometimes, she really did wonder if Shouta ever thought about how his actions might alienate the people around him.
(X)
Shouta fought back against the desire to strangle the old man with his capture scarf.
"Quit being a little brat," Hyu scoffed at him. "You should've warned them about how I do business with people. Or do you believe it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission? If so, you really haven't changed much, have you?"
"I don't need a lecture from you of all people. Anyway, satisfied with what you got?"
The old man couldn't help but grin as he patted the leather suitcase, "Believe me, I am very happy with what I got out of this trip."
"Just make sure to change things around," Shouta may be willing to pay his former mentor's price. However, he wasn't about to sell out a kid to Araki Hyu. "I may not fully believe that boy's story, but he doesn't deserve to be hounded."
"No need to get your scarf in a bunch. I already have several changes in mind for the story, and if I do things right...this will be a money-maker for years to come." The excitement in his voice was palpable, and Shouta understood Araki's reasoning for using the memories of those he worked on, typically the criminally insane, could make for excellent story material for manga. They made it easy for him to come up with new ideas, allowing him to create stories that felt more real than anything else on the market.
"Is there a reason you want to talk to me? Other than gloating about the financial success you're dreaming about."
Hyu lost the giddy smile and replaced it with something a bit more serious. "Yeah, try to keep your distance from the boy. He needs to be able to move on from what's happened. You're not a very good example of moving on." The harsh words were akin to a dagger. Shouta clenched his jaw. "Personally, I don't know the boy. What I do want is for someone like him to find peace. Whatever decision he makes, I hope you all can respect it. You? The best advice I can offer is to keep things as impersonal as possible."
The man exited the apartment without saying another word, leaving Shouta standing in the hallway for a moment. He tried his best to keep calm, 'Let it go. We each chose our respective paths in life. That's all.'
After locking the door, the underground hero locked the door before walking back to his friends and the lost boy. In the kitchen, he saw them sitting at a table and heard them having a conversation. Parker had a confused expression as he looked at Hizashi.
"I still don't get it. Why replace the term 'superpowers' with quirks? Makes it sound weird."
"...Aren't powers peculiar or weird?"
Compared to him, Hizashi was always the more energetic person when it came to teaching. It's why Nezu picked his blonde friend to be the English teacher. Plus, the man had an interest in this stuff anyway. Why not have a job using the extensive knowledge he has of the subject?
"I guess they are." Peter conceded. He leaned back in the chair, "Still...eighty percent of people have a power of some kind?"
'Great,' Shouta mentally groaned at his question. 'Yeah, Nemuri can deal with this. I will not play some stupid version of 20 questions with this boy. Still, I do have one question for him.'
He thought about the words from Hyu about them being quick to assume the boy wants to keep being a hero. It made him think about his emotional outburst from earlier. The anguish in his eyes as he mentioned what happened to his aunt. He suspected she was murdered, and the drawing about his aunt did give a clear picture of what must have happened.
Shouta may doubt the entirety of his story. What he doesn't doubt is the pain and suffering Parker has experienced. There's only so much someone can fake, and he can tell that isn't the case here.
In spite of everything they've learned today, there was a big question in the back of Shouta's mind, and it had to do with Parker. It had to do with his willingness to be a hero. Or did whatever he go through taint his views on being one? No amount of brainwashing or insanity can change the look he saw in his eyes.
"Parker, we gotta talk."
The boy looked up at him, his eyes brimming with a variety of emotions. "Y-Yes?"
"Depending on what you say next...is going to determine a lot for me." Shouta saw his friends looking at him with confusion until he sighed, "Do you still want to continue being a hero?"
He saw Nemuri tighten her grip on the coffee mug in her hand, probably trying to restrain herself, while Hizashi looked at him in disbelief. Those glasses failed to hide what his eyes said. Yet Shouta ignored them in favor of Parker.
"I can't go home," Parker laughed sardonically. "Nothing exists back for there for me. Uncle Ben has been gone for a while. M-Mr. Stark gave his life to save the universe and all of us from Thanos. My...My mom was murdered by a lunatic. Ned and MJ aren't in my life anymore. But...after all that...I can't let go of the words May told me before she died."
"...And what words are those, Parker?"
He saw the young man look in the eyes with renewed strength, "With great power, comes great responsibility, sir."
A smirk (a creepy one as everyone in the room thought) formed on Shouta's face. He replied with a simple greeting. Parker may be insane, or brainwashed... or all of this true.
But now, this kid needs all the help he can get.
"Well then, welcome to my world, Spider-Man."
So, after a few weeks, this chapter is finally complete and ready for human consumption.
First, I have to give a big shout-out to Zaru for helping me. A person with the patience of a saint for being able to put up with someone who kind of sucks at writing as I do. Now, some of you (probably most) will notice a certain OC from his story, Friendly Foreign Dimensional Exchange Student Spiderman!, by the name Hyu Araki appears in the story. Zaru offered as well as gave me permission to use their character, and it's something I'm still surprised by.
That's beside the point. I do hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. I had a lot of fun writing this as well as working with Zaru on this.
Also, I have to say...the NFL playoffs have been pretty wild, especially in the Divisional matches as well as the recent Conference Championship games. Who would've thought Bengals-Rams would be our Super Bowl? Not me. Anyway, I'll see ya guys later!