Disclaimer: The intellectual property rights to Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 belong to Atlus and its respective creative directors, as does the My Hero Academia series, with Kohei Horikoshi.
Author's Notes: Hey! I received feedback regarding a few issues that I've missed; this is where a beta comes in handy. Those will be addressed at the end of the chapter. Thanks for the show of support!
0.0
Civility.
The hallmark of the Japanese identity. It was something indoctrinated from birth, imbued into every Japanese son and daughter—at home, in school and society at large. As a people, they were famed for it. Yet, under the guise of anonymity, people allowed that mask to slip, baring the ugly nature they were repressing.
With a tiny smile, Hachisuka Kuin scrolled through the comments section of the news article she had been reading. Going its course, the train rattled from side-to-side as her body swayed along with the motions.
Kuin held onto the railings tighter.
It was all too easy to stir the bubbling cauldron. Simmering beneath the surface, an underlying sense of disaffection was brewing between the general public and its nation's heroes. By nature, people craved their humdrum routine, but day-to-day life in this modern age was anything but. When stepping out of one's door meant spinning the roulette wheel of fate, it wasn't hard to feel disenfranchised.
Society had dictated the Pro Heroes to be its shield. However, a well-aimed strike had been enough to bring them to their heel. It may not have pierced the jugular, but the latest tragedy had irreparably wounded it, tarnishing the rose-tinted lens in which the public viewed their heroes.
Kuin suppressed a shiver that ran up her spine. She may not have been the mastermind yesterday, but she had played her part to aplomb.
"Uh, Kuin… Why are you smiling so much?"
Kuin blinked—with her good eye. With a simple tap and a swipe, she closed the offending news article and brought up another page. Kuin held out her phone to her 'friends'.
"Cat video," she said simply.
Her companions cooed.
When Japan mourned, they mourned as one. It was hard to see past the general stoic expression of those around her in the passenger cabin, but no one was smiling. Despite the unspeakable tragedy that happened just yesterday, life had a way of moving on—at its usual monotone pace.
"Gotta find a way to keep yourself sane," Kuin said, shrugging.
She felt her phone vibrate in her hand and pulled it back sharply. A notification popped up at the top of the screen. The sender was unknown and the short-hand text it displayed was a garbled mess of random characters.
Oh, ho…
"Is something wrong?" one of them had asked.
Kuin gave her a dearth look, explaining, "It's work. They want me to come in. Boss says we're pretty short-handed 'cuz of what happened yesterday. I know I promised we'd hang out, but I really hafta go."
"Mou, you always bail on us whenever we make plans."
Kuin flashed a dimple-inducing smile; a look she had perfected in the mirror. "Sorry, Mari. It's not like I'm doing it on purpose. I can't let the boss down, you know? I really like this job. I can't lose it."
Chastised, the other girl ducked her head down. "A-Ah, is it because of… what happened to your dad?"
Her heart skipped a beat.
"I…" she tried to say, but her mouth was chalk dry. Unconsciously, Kuin licked her lips. She quirked her head, and gave her companions a sad smile. "Well, yeah sorta." She laughed, her companions joining in awkwardly. For a brief moment, she caught her smiling reflection in the glass. The image had twisted into an unnerving mimicry of herself.
It was good.
Smiling was good. It belied the turmoil churning in her chest.
The train slowed to a stop.
"Ah, this is me," Kuin said, waving. "I'll catch up with you girls when I can!"
Kuin barely caught their reply as she exited the passenger cabin and onto the platform proper. Her attention glued to her phone, she rattled off a quick reply to the unknown number, agreeing to the meet.
Kuin sighed.
Being a villain was tough on its own; having to lead a double life as a normal high school girl on top of it was killer. She giggled to herself, drawing a few curious stares to her.
A part-time villain.
It was strangely apt.
0.0
"Thirty seconds, Arisato. Go get hydrated," Takahara told him. "Who'd thought that a bean sprout like you could last for so long?"
With a strangled breath, Arisato Minato dumped himself down on the bench. He reached for the bottle near him, not quite falling over on his side, as he took small but quick gulps of water. He levelled a look at Takahara, unable to muster a glare at the man's words. Minato had cycled through spar after spar without rest. Takahara had called it a stamina circuit. His latest bout with the man had left him floored. Takahara certainly was tenacious, he'd give him that.
Still, it was the distraction Minato needed after such a strange day.
When he had woke up this morning, Yu was nowhere to be seen. A cursory check of his phone detailed a message of thanks and a not-so-succinct 'I got stuff I need to do today, so let's meet soon'.
Yu hadn't replied to him since.
Whether UA's decision to give its students leave to recuperate from yesterday's tragedy alluded to trouble brewing in the administration… Well, Minato had no clue. However, after puttering around his apartment for half a day, he came to a rather obvious conclusion. He needed something to keep his mind busy. Thankfully, he had found exactly that at Takahara's kobudō training hall.
"Yao-chan, stop dawdling."
On the other side of the room was his next opponent.
Her hand glided over the weapons' rack, slender fingers gently caressing the length of each weapon. Every so often, they'd find purchase on a hilt, but she'd glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, as if gauging his reaction.
Each time, he'd simply shrug.
She finally made her choice, drawing a bo staff from the weapons' rack.
Taking a final sip of his water, he wiped away the excess that dribbled down his chin. He placed his bokken to one side before taking a similar weapon and facing his opponent on the practice mat.
Minato breathed deep and hard.
"Changing it up, I see. Don't think I've ever seen Arisato use a staff before," Takahara said. The man stood on the boundary of the practice area, halfway in between them. He was pensive. "Yao-chan, I assume you've had some training?"
Across from him, Momo had her weapon tucked underneath her arm as she adjusted her padded gloves back onto her bare hand. She gave Takahara a solitary nod before settling the protective face-guard over her head.
Momo had been subdued today and it showed in their spars.
"And you, Arisato?"
He shrugged.
Takahara sighed, mumbling, "Such talkative students I have today." He made a motion with his hands, bringing them together. "Bow," he said sharply. "Begin!"
The moment he righted himself from his bow, Minato felt the presence of a being enter his mind. The feeling of contentment flooded him, only soon to be replaced by the rushing high of an impending battle. Memories of a life not his own came to him; it was a life full of strife. Throughout those battles, there were but three constants; his weapon, carved from the great and terrible behemoth, Coinchenn, his companion and charioteer, Láeg, and his horses, Liath Macha and Dub Sainglend.
Just as Cu Chulainn lived in battle, he died.
The staff Minato held in his hands was certainly no Gáe Bulg, but his persona had willed that he treat it as such; the Hound of Ulster would have nothing less. Unconsciously, he twirled the weapon around him, switching the staff seamlessly from hand to hand before settling it in a reverse grip on his right.
With a sigh, Minato forcibly returned Cu Chulainn to the sea of souls. It would be dishonourable to face Momo aided by the unnatural ability of the legendary Irish warrior.
Like Takahara had said, powers had no place in his dojo.
Momo herself had yet to move. Instead, she shifted her body sideways, presenting a leaner profile to him, and held her staff defensively at a downward angle. Through the tiny slits of her face-guard, he could see her eyes, cagey yet determined.
In response, Minato stalked forward.
He traced her from top to bottom, sussing out a weakness in her stance. Occasionally, he'd strike out with his staff, probing at an opening, but his feints were stonewalled.
That was all the warning he had.
Instincts guided him as Minato jerked his head back, narrowly avoiding the first swipe aimed for his neck. With a quick twist, he chopped at the back of her wrist, which went unanswered as Momo retreated.
"Yao-chan," he heard Takahara say. "Push on."
She didn't need another prompt.
Momo surged forward and ducked low. She pivoted on her heels, sweeping the staff in a full circle at his legs.
It would have been all too easy to counter. Even with all that momentum, her attack wasn't the fastest; it was a poor choice given how unwieldy the staff was. Instead, he stepped back. Takahara would have reamed into him for being passive had he been fighting the man, but Momo…
She froze.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Takahara open his mouth. Minato wordlessly shook his head, warning the man off. Surprisingly, Takahara acquiesced.
Minato came at her, faster this time, thrusting his staff forward like a spear. Her grip on her weapon was loose, so much so that he almost knocked it off on the first try, but she parried it―barely. However, with each deflection, he carried through the motion, circling around his underclassman and raining down an onslaught.
She had no answer.
Minato slowed to a stop, lowering his weapon down by his arms with a forcible 'thump'. "We're done. Call the match, Takahara-san."
The slight had the desired effect.
It must have been borne out of desperation, but the normally reserved girl lashed out with her weapon, aiming it at his head. There was a meaty clatter as Minato sidestepped the attack and received her staff with his own, forcing their weapons into a deadlock.
Through her visor, a mortifying look came over her features. "S-Senpai! I didn't mean to… I apologi—"
Her grip loosened.
Momo's distraction would prove costly, and Minato intended to punish her for it. With a simple dip of his forearms, he mimicked the motions of a circle, disentangling their weapons, and in a quick motion, thrust his staff forward at her helmet.
It was scary how flexible his underclassman was.
Momo arched her back like a seasoned gymnast. Minato couldn't help but admire her form as his angled attack seemed to follow the curve of her body, meeting nothing but empty air. With a forceful kick, his weapon was pushed upwards. The girl created space by pirouetting backwards, with her staff planted firmly on the ground. She was breathing deeply, but with the experience no doubt borne out of practice, flowed back to a rigid stance with her weapon held at the ready.
"We're even," Minato said simply. "Would you like to continue?"
It was hard to mistake the fervour in her eyes.
0.0
Everything about this room was stifling.
Cold, sterile walls.
Nondescript steel furniture.
A two-way mirror that she pointedly tried not to stare at.
Then again, Takeyama Yu didn't expect an interrogation room in the National Police Agency Headquarters to be the most inviting of places. It didn't help that the room was unnaturally cold. Combine that with the fact that she was seated on a steel chair with only a layer of skin-tight spandex separating the unyielding surface and her precious behind…
Well, Yu couldn't help but fidget in her seat. Besides, staying stock still only reminded herself that fidgeting was an option. That only made her fidget more, which in turn made her butt feel colder.
"That's it!"
The chair screeched against the tiled floor as she stood up, glaring at the mirror in what she could only described as pure unadulterated hate.
"Will someone—"
That was when the door to the interrogation room swung open. A humanoid cat, one of the Japanese Bobtail breeds, nonchalantly walked in with his nose buried in a stack of documents. "Takeyama, it may be almost four in the afternoon," he said, without looking up at Yu. "But considering the day that I had, it is still far too early for your special brand of crazy."
"Kaneko," Yu hissed. "Turn the goddamn heat up!"
The cat, Kaneko, gave her a quick once-over before turning back to his documents. "The whole building is on centralised heating, so can't do much for you there. You should really consider not wearing spandex as a costume. Also…" he pointed at the badge slung around his neck, "I made rank two weeks ago, so that's Detective Kaneko to you."
"Congrats," Yu muttered lazily as she plopped back down on her seat. "You're finally at a pay grade where you can actually do something about those clothes of yours."
"Now, now… Being a little less snide to your interviewer is generally the courteous thing to do. Besides, girls go crazy for the whole rugged detective look. They think that they're in some cop drama or something."
"Oh, I bet they do."
He sighed. "You're my fourth interview today, Takeyama. Give me a break. They're throwing all the grunt work to the rookie detective just when the PSC starts requesting for 'additional resources'."
"That bad?"
"I should be the one asking you that. You were the one on scene. I've just been sitting behind a desk trying to wade through this bureaucratic mess for the past eighteen hours straight."
"No wonder you look like shit, Kaneko."
"De-tec-tive." Kaneko pointed at his badge again and stressed, "You look like shit, Detective Kaneko. Now… Let's start."
He pulled out a voice recorder and pushed a button on the side panel. "Detective Kaneko Jun. The time of this recording is three fifty-six p.m. on the fifteenth of May. I'm acting as an independent enquirer on behalf of the Public Safety Commission, henceforth referred to as PSC. This is my after action review with one of the Pro Heroes who attended to the Mass Trigger Incident at UA. Could you state your identity for the record, ma'am?"
Drawing herself up higher on her seat, Yu answered, "Mount Lady."
"Thank you. Mount Lady was part of the protective detail assigned to the UA Sports Festival. In your own words, could you describe the events prior to the start of the conflict."
She nodded.
"During the Sports Festival, I was grouped together with Kamui Woods and Death Arms as one of the external teams assigned by PSC to the event. We arrived early in the morning and were subsequently briefed by both Principal Nezu and the in-house guidance counsellor, Hound Dog. We were then assigned to specific quadrants, with Death Arms and I charged with taking the festival grounds outside the stadium. Due to his manoeuvrability, Kamui Woods was tasked to roam the surrounding area. Up until the incident, there was nothing suspicious of note. However… However, I—"
"Something you'd like to add?"
Yu steeled herself. "I abandoned my quadrant. Roughly ten minutes prior, I accompanied a student to the stadium. I was inside, near the competitors' area, when the first alert was raised."
Kaneko jotted down something on his notepad. "And what is your relationship with this student?"
"Does it matter? He has nothing to do with it."
Kaneko drew up a document from his folder, and Yu caught a glimpse of a passport-sized photo of a familiar blue-haired boy atop the page. Her heart caught in her throat.
"Arisato Minato, correct? A third-year student. He was recently assigned to your agency as part of his workplace training. Transferred to UA at the start of the school year and was scheduled to be transferred over to the Department of Heroics after the Sports Festival."
"Why do you have all that?"
Kaneko was unfazed as he replied, "I'm just being thorough. Could you run through your actions after?"
Yu had half a mind to press the issue. However, there wasn't a point; not when it was clear that Minato had done nothing wrong. "I tried to get out of the stadium. Tried. It was chaos. People could barely hear me, much less see me in there. I searched around, found an open ledge and jumped out."
"And that was when the villain, Bogi, started his approach towards the stadium?"
"Yes. We tussled for a bit. I managed to overpower him briefly and ended up throwing him into the woods. Endeavour was the one who subdued him in the end. Did they find out why a villain from Kyoto decided to muck around in Tokyo?"
"Investigations are on-going," he explained glibly. "I saw the footage of your battle. They had it plastered up all over the news. You came out very well. There were talks of a citation."
"I don't deserve one."
Kaneko reached for his voice recorder and put it on pause. The humanoid cat shook his head wearily.
"I've been around the block long enough, Takeyama. One thing I realised is that heroic citations aren't meant for the heroes; they're for the public. Whether or not you think you deserve one isn't up to you. Pro Heroes are public figures. If PSC believes that parading you around with a medal around your neck will make the masses happy, well…"
"Yeah, I know," she muttered. "I'm gonna get a parade."
"Exactly. Public support is important for them. It helps to keep them funded when it comes time for the federal budget. And since we're off-record, I will say this: you messed up, Takeyama. You know that well enough. You weren't where you were supposed to be. It doesn't matter if you were just a hundred metres away. Time is crucial when you're forced to play catch-up. That's dereliction of duty, plain and simple. This is going into my report."
Yu couldn't bear to meet his gaze, but she forced herself to. "I understand. I won't dispute it."
"As to whether PSC will publicly censure you is another matter. Chances are you'll be blacklisted for a while—they'll disregard you for placements in team-ups and assignments."
"That sounds underwhelming," Yu said, but the relief in her voice was obvious. "I was kinda paranoid enough to think that they were going to take Minato away from me, or God forbid, suspend my license."
"Doubt it. Their image is in the shitter. I don't think they want to air out any dirty laundry in the aftermath. That will only fuel the narrative that this really was a catastrophic failure. They had more than fifty Pro Heroes, not to mention All Might and Endeavour, in attendance for the Sports Festival. Yet, they couldn't get a handle on the situation until it was far too late."
"We were hampered, Kaneko. There were more heroes in attendance to watch the festival than actually guarding it."
"I'm not trying to assign blame," Kaneko said. "The NPA are equally at fault. We've allowed this Trigger epidemic to continue unimpeded. All of it—the drugs, villains, our collective inaction—have led to this disaster being the terrible tragedy that it was."
"Everything is easier in hindsight, huh?" Yu asked, blowing out a tired breath. "I feel like I just had this conversation yesterday."
"It is," Kaneko said. "The only hope is that we take concrete actions to never allow a tragedy like this to ever happen again. There's been talk lately of passing stricter laws on drug trafficking and widening the parameters of policing powers for narcotic offences."
"It sounds like a step in the right direction."
"Only if it passes. That raid in Nakano was our largest into this Trigger syndicate and we're still not making a significant dent in their supply chain. For every Trigger supplier we arrest, more keep sprouting up. The Commissioner General is already in the midst of setting up a special task force. I'm pushing for a slot."
Yu leaned in closer. Inevitably, Kaneko did the same. "I was working on something prior to this," she said quietly. "It might be something, might be nothing too, but if it's concrete, will you back me up?"
Kaneko's features hardened. "You're a Pro Hero, Takeyama, not some undercover agent."
Yu ignored the slight and smiled a wry half-smile. "Let me help. I know you guys are swamped. If it's hinky, I'll come straight to you." She held up a hand. "I promise."
"I don't like it."
Yu thinned her lips, saying, "You've known me for pretty much my whole career, Kaneko—as short as it is. You know I'm serious about what I do. I'm not just a twenty-metre tall wrecking ball that breaks down buildings; I can be more than that." Her eyes were large and pleading. "Let me have this chance to get something right."
The cat was silent.
"You're setting down a path I've seen people take one too many times. You're angry," Kaneko said. When Yu tried to rebut, he stopped her. "You're angry because of your inactions, and you believe that there is still a wrong that you must personally right."
"It's not like that," she mumbled. "I just want to help."
"Cooler heads must prevail, Takeyama. No one doubts your ability or willingness, but any more of this, and your judgement will be called into question." He gave her an unreadable look. "Ultimately, I have no say over your actions. I can't tell you not to do it, but think about what consequences your actions may bring."
He reached for his voice recorder. "We've sidetracked too much. Let's continue with the interview."
At that point, Yu could only bite her tongue and nod, because her stomach wasn't the only thing churning.
0.0
"Curry rice?"
Arisato Minato stopped to look at the shop window. There were a variety of food replicas on display, some more appetising than others. His companion appeared indecisive. Momo puffed her cheeks from side to side as she gave the limited offering a quick glance, before turning back to look down the narrow shopping street they had just passed.
"Something else?" Minato followed her line of sight—to an eatery he had overlooked. "Soba?"
She perked up. "Do you mind? I haven't had soba in ages."
Minato shook his head in reply.
Together, they made their way back to the hole-in-the-wall soba restaurant in relative silence. The two were greeted warmly by the staff upon entering and were directed to an empty section of the counter right by the entrance, overlooking the length of the galley kitchen.
"I just realised," Momo said. She didn't turn to look at him. Instead, her gaze lingered on the kitchen staff going about their food preparation. "I know we have lunch together occasionally, but this is the first time we're spending time together outside of school and the dojo."
"Our first dinner. I wonder what took so long."
"We were busy, I suppose. You always had to rush off for work after our practice sessions, and I had my household matters to attend to. There just wasn't time for dinner."
Offhandedly, he replied, "We should make time. You can decide where we'll go next."
"Really?"
"If you wish."
Momo's eyes practically lit up. "Definitely. There's this amazing restaurant we should try. The wait list is more than six months long, but my mother is friends with the executive chef; I'm sure she could get us a table."
"Momo, I may not be able to stretch my meal allowance that far."
She blinked, far too much like an owl. "We could also try the Prince Curry Palace down the street. It's the companionship that matters most—less so the food."
Minato smiled at his underclassman. "Exactly."
It wasn't long after that their orders arrived. Just as he was about to dig in, he noticed that Momo was fidgeting in her seat, biting at her utensil.
"How do you do it, senpai?" she asked him suddenly. "Compartmentalise, I mean. After everything that happened yesterday, you look so normal. I can't get over how forced it feels for me to act like nothing is wrong."
"Did you sleep at all last night?"
"Not a wink." Momo smiled a rueful smile. Then, she asked quietly, "Do you remember what we talked about before—when I was at the USJ?" At his nod, she continued, "I was terrified. Beyond terrified. Not just for myself, but for my classmates and our teachers as well. But it was simpler. Back then, it was about survival—our survival. Yesterday was—it was…" She closed her eyes, and her voice barely came out as a whisper, "It was the first time I saw death with my own eyes. And there was nothing I could do to help."
"I see…"
Minato was pensive. It took a few seconds before he found his voice again:
"Death is… It's not something you can compartmentalise that easily," he finally said. "You don't get used to it. At least, you shouldn't. Once you do…" It becomes a part of you. "You lose the part of you that's human." One part of what makes you whole. "It's normal to be affected by it, even if it's someone you didn't know."
Momo was picking at her tempura, her big black eyes downcast. "It's strange… I shared the same with my mother last night. The first thing she told me was that she was sorry I went through such a harrowing ordeal." She shook her head absently. "I know she was trying to comfort me, but to apologise to me when someone else had passed? It felt so disingenuous. But you, senpai… It's different with you. You're honest with your thoughts, at least when you want to share it. That's why I wanted your opinion."
He quirked an eyebrow at her small jibe. "You're overthinking it," he told her plainly. "Dying, death, all of it… It isn't the easiest topic to talk about."
She made a face, sulking. "We're doing it now, are we not?"
"It's different. She's your mother. Deep down, I'm sure every parent sees the need to protect their child from anything bad. And I think she knows that's going to be harder and harder as you grow older—given your aspirations. Protecting you may be out of her reach. If it already hasn't, then soon. Maybe that's what she was apologising for."
"Oh…"
"Of course, I could just be overthinking it like you," Minato said, shrugging. "Do you mind? Telling me about it?"
Momo was hesitant at first, but relented, "After you left, my classmates were still arguing over what we should do. I tried putting a word in, but Bakugo was, well… Bakugo, and Iida was just as obtuse. I know that doesn't make sense, but—"
"Bakugo is the intense shouty kid?"
She almost smiled at his description. "Yes, one of them. I'm not sure if you remember, but Iida is the one with the glasses." She made a motion with her hand, miming her adjusting a pair of spectacles over her eyes. "He's very much like me, but to borrow your description—more 'intense' . He'd much rather jump off a cliff than ask for forgiveness after the fact."
He hid a snort. "So permission first?" he asked. "What happened then?"
"Bakugo ran off." She sighed restlessly. "More than a few of my classmates went after him; some to help, others to try and drag him back. Even Iida went, much to my surprise."
"But not you?"
She shook her head. "No… I knew there were more pressing concerns. One—the 'Trigger Bees'. Two—the stampede." She held down a finger with the other. "In a sold-out stadium that could seat well over twenty-thousand attendees, that kind of crowd density and all that chaos… The casualties would have eclipsed those affected by the Trigger outbreak. Without all the infighting, it was easier to convince those who stayed. There were even others from 1-B that offered to help. We split up into groups, each with an objective in mind—mine was to find a faculty member or a Pro Hero and relay the information we had about the bees.
"But we were too late to do anything. By the time we came across a teacher, Ectoplasm-sensei told us that the Pro Heroes were aware of the threat, that they were already in the midst of planning a means to counteract them. They were two steps ahead of us the whole time, and I was none the wiser—a fool. Because I actually believed what I knew was going to make a difference."
"You can't account for everything," Minato chided. "That's illogical."
"B-But to have it all amount to nothing?"
"It wasn't nothing. You're being too hard on yourself. If you view your actions solely in the lens of its results, then that's a fallacy. To me, your intent, as well as your actions, matters most."
Momo sniffed lightly. "Don't they say that intent is irrelevant in view of the outcome? That the best intentions pave the way to hell?"
In response, he poked a finger into her arm, with a little more force than necessary. "You're nitpicking. We'd be here all day if we think up purely hypothetical situations. That's not how the world works, and it wasn't anything close to what I meant. You know that."
"My apologies," she said blithely, rubbing at her arm.
"Being so self-critical, it… it isn't healthy at all," he said. "Is there a reason why you place such a huge burden of expectation on yourself?"
Momo hung her head down. "W-Well, I've been thinking a lot lately, about the kind of Pro Hero I aspire to be—when I was young and as I am now," she said slowly, uncertainly.
"And that is?"
"You must understand. I am… aware of my circumstances as compared to my peers. I've had a very fortunate and comfortable upbringing. I did not want for anything. I was afforded the best education. All because there are certain… expectations that are required of me when I become of age."
Momo was hesitant, clearly choosing her words carefully.
"A-As such, I was naturally expected to excel, which I did… for as far back as I could remember. I couldn't place when I realised it, but it had always been building inside of me—this constant fear of failure that had been driving me forward. It created issues, even during elementary school, but it was towards the end of my junior high that it became more prevalent.
"I hated being placed on a pedestal," she said, her voice quiet. "I dreaded attending UA. I couldn't stand the notion of prolonging this ordeal for three more years." She leaned back and glanced upwards, for once an earnest smile reaching her lips. "Thankfully, I was wrong."
"What changed?"
"I did—because of everyone in 1-A and because of you."
"You're giving me too much credit. We've only known each other for a month. Short of our practice sessions and lunches, I don't see how I could have done that."
"I could never beat you," Momo said plainly. "In all fifty-three bouts we've had, not once was I able to knock you off your feet."
"It was practice. There are rules, handicaps. If you used your Quirk—"
"I'm not the only one fighting with a handicap, am I?"
He thinned his lips into a line, not willing to press the issue. "Your point?"
"I was prideful—too sure of my abilities in spite of my Quirk that it would be enough to overcome a senior from the Department of General Education. In truth, I looked down on you, senpai—that was until you crushed me without so much as breaking a sweat in our first bout. It was a bitter pill to swallow; to know that I had been wallowing in self-pity because of a misguided belief I had propagated all my life. Failing was cathartic. It was a relief. Each time I returned to the dojo and faced you, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I was one step closer. Failing slowly became an afterthought. It would simply serve as a means to overcome an impossible obstacle.
"I told myself that I could no longer allow the fear of failing to impede me. Yet, during the attack on the festival, that fear crept back in—because for once I understood what it meant should I truly fail, instead of all those childish notions that I had built up in my head. Failure didn't mean a wounded pride or dropping out of a tournament. Had I failed, made a misstep, someone could have died, and it terrified me."
She was quiet.
"Listen, that fear," Minato said into the lingering silence, "it can be a good thing to hold onto. It's not something that goes away. No sane person can rid themselves of that doubt. But the opposite can be just as dangerous."
"When someone doesn't think of the consequences?"
He nodded slowly. "It's a fine line to cross. Action versus inaction. Recklessness and passiveness. The Pro Heroes out there, they're not perfect. No one is. Choices have to be made—hard ones. Not all of them will turn out in their favour."
"But—"
He reached over and patted her hand, silencing her. "Momo… If there's anything you need to take away from all this, it's that you can't allow that fear to stop you from acting. What you did mattered to someone that day. Never doubt that," he said. "No one starts off by saving the world. Start with that one person instead. That ideal that you've built in your head—don't stop reaching for it. It's hard to see it now, but you'll be a great hero—one day."
Momo let out a muted sigh and mustered a small smile. "Perhaps you're right, senpai." She took a moment to compose herself, straightening in her seat, and proceeded to take a big bite of her vegetable tempura.
Minato did the same.
"It's good…"
Not seeing the need to speak, Momo simply nodded.
"My turn for lunch this week."
She nodded again.
"Any preference?"
"Onigiri would be nice."
The companionable silence lingered until…
"Senpai?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
Minato returned her thanks with a smile.
0.0
As her saviour whirred to life, slowly distilling the life-sustaining elixir in tiny droplets, Kayama Nemuri heaved a sigh of relief.
One of the few perks about being a teacher at UA was that as a faculty member, one was never a few steps away from an espresso machine. The bad thing was that they had to share, and Kan was getting awfully testy behind her.
It wasn't her fault that she brought along her thermal mug.
"Thank you all for attending this meeting," Nezu said, climbing up his bolster seat to take his place on the table. "I know it's been a tiring day, and I appreciate your patience in the matter. My earlier meeting ran later than expected."
"So how did it go?" Nemuri asked, now on her fourth capsule. Kan had by now vacated his position in line behind her and begrudgingly settled for tea.
Nezu motioned to himself. "I'm still here, am I not?" he said, not at all concerned. "However, concessions were made; concessions that I do not entirely agree with."
"Vultures," Ishiyama said. "Vultures dressed in the guise of men."
"What agenda was being bandied around this time?" Snipe asked.
"They were discussing the need for better security, for better protection measures within the school that exists… outside of our jurisdiction." Nezu held up his paw to forestall any rebuttals. "It's been agreed—in part, not fully. Failure, repeated at that, cannot go unanswered. We cannot allow ourselves to be seen doing nothing in the face of such a tragedy."
"To say that we are doing nothing is an exaggeration," Ectoplasm said. "I've worked with Hound Dog and Power Loader both to update the gaps in our system. The carrier bees that were allowed entry were an anomaly; Power Loader has rendered extensive anatomical profiles to distinguish between natural and unnatural organisms."
It was rare to see Maijima attend one of their conferences. Being the sole head for the Department of Support Studies, the Excavation Hero: Power Loader had generally kept to himself and his work.
"Anything unnatural will be flagged and activate our emergency defences," Maijima droned.
"It's the perception of doing nothing," Kan said. "Besides, it doesn't protect us if our enemies are already inside the school. If the League of Villains found a way, there's a possibility that others would too."
"Mannn~~" Yamada said. "I know we gotta keep it a hundred, but this day won't ever end if we continue nitpicking every possible scenario the villains might think up."
"Speaking of which," Nemuri interjected. "Any leads so far, All Might?"
All Might, looking worse for wear, shook his head. Nemuri could only imagine what was going through his head right now. "According to Tsukauchi, no one has claimed responsibility for the attack. The only commonality the police have found is that these carrier bees were present in a number of Trigger-related incidents throughout Kanto, but nowhere else. No matches were found in the Quirk Registry database either."
"It's likely a cell operating in the region," Aizawa offered.
"That is the current assumption."
"As it is," Nezu said. "It is quite obvious now that no one individual is behind these attacks, and we cannot further discount this new unknown element acting against us in the future."
"What do you propose?" Ishiyama asked.
Nezu folded his paw atop the other. "It may sound counter-intuitive given that the recent attacks have occurred within our walls, but we cannot allow the students to feel unsafe attending school. That is why I've handed in a proposal for UA to transition to an all-boarding school system."
"Bwah?"
Nemuri, who was in the midst of sipping from her thermal mug, stopped. Similar reactions were replayed across the table, some more delayed than others. Before them, Nezu's pleasant smiled never wavered.
"Oh God," Kan murmured, massaging his temples. "This is where I die."
"UA is to be a testbed to trial this new initiative," Nezu explained. "If the outcome is… favourable, it is likely that other schools in the country may adopt the same approach. In return, security bots manufactured by I-IS will be deployed to guard the campus. This is what I meant by concessions being made."
"The I-IS?" Yamada asked. " Sounds fancy."
"I-Island Security," Snipe answered on Nezu's behalf, his tone was unusually severe. "Boss, are you sure? To be wholly reliant on a system like this is foolhardy."
"It is not ideal, but it is the only way forward we have."
"Bah! Those security bots won't last the week," Maijima said. "Hatsume will see to it personally. Don't be surprised if you notice more than a few go missing."
"That being said, Maijima," Nezu piped up. "Those bots are being delivered on-site as we speak. I understand most, if not all, of you have been working through the night, but I will require everyone's assistance to integrate—"
"Ah, hell…" Nemuri heard Kan mutter.
The man was already making a beeline for the espresso machine.
0.0
"Follow me, Queen."
Hachisuka Kuin promptly fell in line behind her contact—the villain known as Nemoto Shin. "Strange place for a meet, Doc," she said, smiling at his broad back. "I know a cemetery is supposed to be secluded, but it's hard to break the image that you have some kind of fetish for dead people—what with how you look and all."
Her contact didn't break stride. Neither did he visibly react to her words; his current state of dress didn't allow her to see it either way.
Nemoto wore a black, loose-fitting cloak, paired with a tall derby hat that hid the shape of his head. Fixed over his face was a plague doctor's mask. Its eyes were jutted out like circular discs, and Kuin was unable to peer beyond the inky darkness that lay within.
In response, he replied, "You know my name. Address me as such."
"Got'cha, Nemoto-san."
Kuin looked around, noting the once familiar surroundings. There were more tombstones—even more unfamiliar names marked in red and white. She remembered a few of them. At least, she thought she did. Time had a way with messing with those memories. She had been here often in her youth, and the path Nemoto was leading her towards was one well-travelled.
"Uh, why are we here?"
"To pay our respects to the dead."
Kuin frowned, saying, "Hey, look… This mysterious shtick is wearing thin. You found out who I am, I'm guessing? We're here to visit my father's grave, aren't we?"
Nemoto remained quiet, so she walked ahead of him.
"Awesome. Is this where you try and strong-arm me into doing your bidding? You know it's pointless, right? I'm just in it for the money, which incidentally," she made a motion with her hand, "gimme…"
He brushed past her, unmindful of her words, and stopped before a tombstone.
"Hachisuka Touma. Proctor the vigilante."
Kuin sighed, clinching her brow wearily. "Can we not do this, please?"
"Seven years ago, Proctor misidentified and engaged a suspected villain. In the ensuing struggle, the suspect sustained irreparable damage to his brain. He was left in a comatose state, which he remains in, to this date."
"What's with the lengthy exposition?" Kuin grumbled, looking around. "I know all this."
"As it turned out, the man was innocent; he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and just so happened to come across an over-eager vigilante. It made public news. Wrought with guilt, your father unmasked himself—"
"Are you monologuing?"
"—and surrendered himself to the police."
"Oh God, you are."
"In the end, he committed—"
"The coward killed himself!" Kuin gnashed out. "Gods, what do you want me to say? That it ruined our family? It did. We couldn't escape his name, much less what he did." She sighed and mashed a palm over her eye-patch. "So please… you think you know my life because you pieced a part of it together? You don't—so don't act like you do."
Nemoto remained motionless.
"You overstep yourself, Kuin."
"Well, sorry I had to ruin your fun. I thought this was going to be a performance appraisal; didn't expect to traipse down a shitty memory lane." She shrugged, saying, "In my defence, I'm normally quite polite."
Nemoto reached inside his cloak and pulled out a manila envelope. He threw it on the ground in front of her.
"Rude…" Kuin muttered under her breath as she reached for it.
"We remain pleased with your work—attitude notwithstanding. The observations that you have provided to us were… enlightening. Overhaul has seen fit to reward you."
She pressed the manila envelope between her hands. "This does feel kinda thick."
"The latest incident has hastened our timeline. With each iteration of Trigger, we move a step closer to our endgame. Your discretion and ability is highly regarded. It is only natural that your role in this grows, as does the responsibility and expectations Overhaul will demand of you."
"I dunno where you're going with this, but FYI, I prefer freelancing. Besides, I'm not a big fan of dragon tattoos."
"Do not delude yourself, girl. You are but a tool that my young master tolerates," Nemoto said dully. "Beyond that, how goes your other assignment?"
"Not great," Kuin blurted out inadvertently. She winced. "Fuck… I hate it when you do that."
"Explain."
"You know how he gets. Stain can be a… prickly one."
0.0
"W-What is this?"
Akaguro Chizome dragged the serrated edge of his survival knife against the walls of the narrow alley. In the enclosed environment, it screeched painfully, like nails on a chalkboard.
What does it mean to be a hero?
A hero was courageous and selfless. A hero lived by their values and would risk life and limb to protect it. A hero was viewed as the paragon of the human spirit; someone who did extraordinary deeds for the sake of others.
As a boy, Chizome grew up idolising that very ideal—All Might.
However, in this age, that definition had changed.
A hero was respected for their costume. A hero was a profession, governed by bureaucrats and funded by tax dollars. A hero was a brand, cultivated by the individual for personal gain.
"Do…"
Heroism and hero worship were two sides of the same coin.
Chizome had grown to despise that bastardisation. Pro Heroes had chipped away at the foundations that All Might had painstakingly built. As Stendhal the vigilante, he had taken it upon himself to rid the world of sinners; those who would erroneously wield their power without conviction. He had no qualms about killing. The end justified the means, and evil would never again taint the lives of the innocent.
"Your…"
Society, however, had labelled him a villain. With that backlash arose complications.
His disillusionment with the reality of heroics only grew worse. He faced down heroes who actively pursued him; there were plenty who lusted for fame and recognition. However, by impeding his life's work, they allowed the sickness to fester, and the only thing necessary for evil to triumph was for good men to do nothing.
"Worst…"
It was like a switch had flipped within him.
Just as All Might stood for the very ideology he cherished, Chizome would stand alongside All Might—on the opposite end of the divide. For him, it was the ultimate act of self-sacrifice. In doing so, he discarded the mask he had worn as Stendhal and donned a new one.
"Scum…"
The villain known as Stain.
All that remained in the end…
Stain stood over his quarry.
He unsheathed his katana and angled it vertically, letting the sharp edge rest against the hero's neck. "And the world," when Stain spoke, his voice was raspy from disuse, "will slowly learn." He smiled widely, letting his unnaturally long tongue hang loose.
And violently stabbed downwards.
0.0
The knocks on his door were haphazard, hurried. The feminine voice beyond it was familiar, if a bit slurred, calling out his name in a 'sing-songy' tone.
Blearily, on uneven feet, Arisato Minato crossed the threshold of his tiny apartment and threw the front door open. It proved to be a bad idea as his visitor had been using it as a perch, and he bore the full weight of her person upon him.
He was not proud that he let out an unmanly 'hurgh' and fell to the ground with her.
"Mi-chan, can I crash," Yu hiccuped, and Minato leaned away from her breath, "at your place again?"
"How much did you drink?"
She booped him on the nose and giggled.
Minato sighed before allowing his head to thump meatily against the wooden tiles of his hallway.
Minor Arcana: Pentacles (II)…
Side Note(s): There were some confusion regarding Hachisuka Kuin's presence, as well as the Quirk enhancing drug called Trigger.
As it stands, this story is an amalgamation of both the main series of BnHA and its offshoot, Illegals. Some backstories, characters and elements were borrowed from Illegals, but in doing so, I may have messed with the canon timeline. So to not cause any further confusion, please assume that this story is now basically a quasi-AU that I've bastardised to fit my needs.