BenchBeYolking here with another chapter of Taxes and Taxes; also known as; Consistent updates? Never heard of them!
I was a little worried about the pacing slowing down (what with chapter 1.5 and this chapter being the lead up to the exam) so I can promise that things will pick up a little bit, but I'm not going to rush this story. I've got everything planned out!
Thank you all for following this story (and if you don't don't worry, if you've enjoyed it even a little, I appreciate you stopping by!)
As always, I read every review and enjoy every single one, be it positive feedback or scathing criticism, I want to make this story something you all can enjoy, so feel free to toss anything my way (even crack ships, I got a real laugh over SweetSweetSmilingPrinceXLazarus) Seriously, even if you just roast me for like, two paragraphs I will forever appreciate you taking the time to let me know how you feel!
I know I say it a lot, but I just have to thank you all, even though this story may be rough around the edges, the fact that my writing is something that can make other people happy never fails to brighten my day, thank you all from the bottom of my heart for letting me share this story with you.
Without further Ado- I shall let the chapter speak for itself.
Lazarus laid there and wondered what it would be like to be dead.
Lazarus was struck by how odd the thought was, after all, if anyone in the entire world would be qualified to answer that question scientifically, it would most likely be him. He had come back from beyond the brink so many times that he barely thought of death as anything but an unfortunately terrifying inconvenience; Though, Lazarus wondered if what he did could even be called dying.
"Lazarus." Hanta Sero spoke quietly, sitting down beside Lazarus's prone form.
Perhaps he often exaggerated the extent of his abilities, after all, he had outside of the most traumatic event of his life, never known that he wasn't coming back. After his first time embracing the darkness between death and life his mind had chosen to adapt, death was terrifying to the everyman because it was the greatest unknown, and once the unknown was known, the fear left very quickly afterwards.
"Lazarus, please, it's not that bad." Hanta spoke, trying to shake Lazarus out of his spiraling depression.
To call what he did 'dying' was disingenuous. He had always kept his heart safe, literally, from harm. He had confronted horrible pain and suffering and yet always survived, but the need to communicate what he did, what he experienced in those moments between existence and not-quite-death, had haunted him for so long. Lazarus knew he lacked the words, the English language lacked the words, to explain what he had to go through every single time his quirk activated. So he called it death, to simplify it into words that he could speak, that others could comprehend.
"We can get through this Lazarus, you just need to… not lay here and wait for death." Hanta spoke to Lazarus, trying to invoke some kind of response.
"Shut up Hanta," Lazarus spoke, his voice muffled by the floor his face was pressed against, "Can't you see I'm trying to tap into the darkness in my heart and deal with some deep rooted philosophical concepts that make me who I am?"
Hanta rolled his eyes as he hit Lazarus with a strand of tape and flipped him over onto his back, exposing Lazarus to the harsh light of the room.
"Lazarus," Hanta began, Lazarus wailed in agony, yet if Hanta noticed him, he didn't show it, "I'm still not sure how you could not know that UA would have a practical exam." Hanta's words forced Lazarus to face the grim reality of what was happening.
"Hanta, my friend. I knew about the practical exam," Lazarus rolled himself over again, slowly rising like a zombie from his grave, "I've done a bunch of hand-to-hand combat in my life, I'm in reasonably good shape and I'm the kninda guy you want around during a street brawl, but guess what Hanta? I've never lived in an area rich enough to throw robotic goddamn combatants at it's students!" Lazarus voice rose quickly to a shrill tone, before Lazarus slowly lowered himself back down to the ground.
"Lazarus-" Hanta tried to interject.
"I am finally learning what death is, Hanta. Death is the end, ruination, it's abandoning your life to fulfill your dreams and then watching your dreams die, that is death," Lazarus lamented to himself as he felt the need to curl up into a ball, but lacked the drive to do so, "Let me die, because that's all I can do against metal death machines. Die and come back and die and come back. Just tape me up and wait for me to asphyxiate at this point, it'll be faster then watching me suffer." Lazarus heard Hanta sigh and get up.
"Well, fine, Lazarus. I'm sorry to say that I'm not going to waste my day while you feel sorry for yourself. We have three days until the practical exam, Lazarus. We only have three days to prepare for the most important test of our young lives. I want us to succeed together, but it seems like we're each in a different place right now, and that kinda sucks. So, I'm going to use this time to train just a little bit more, and if you want to use it to lay on the floor, you go ahead and do what you love." Hanta bent down one last time and patted Lazarus mockingly on the head, before grabbing his bag and beginning to walk out the door.
Lazarus bolted up, groaning as the blood rushed to his head, pointing accusingly at Hanta, "You just sit there on your high horse Hanta! You've got an awesome quirk! And- and a loving family! And a brilliant-" Lazarus's half-angry rant was cut short by Hanta laughing from the doorway.
"Wow, your insults really cut deep Lazarus," Hanta was smiling ear from ear, "Good luck being stuck thinking about death, bye! Love you-" Hanta cringed, causing Lazarus to start laughing, making Hanta turn red, "Shut up! You've got me doing it now!" Hanta slammed the door, leaving Lazarus alone.
Moving over to the table, Lazarus sat down and slumped over, grumbling to himself as he returned to his original mindset of wishing for a swift death. He fumed. Lazarus didn't want to be angry with Hanta, after all, Hanta hadn't purposefully kept the fact that all the one on one training they had done wouldn't apply to the practical. Lazarus knew his misconceptions were his own fault, but Hanta made a far easier scapegoat then taking the blame all onto himself.
Lazarus forced himself to stand up, grunting as he placed his palms on the table and slowly pushed himself away, his body physically exhausted after so much mental exercise.
Lazarus took a moment to check in with his body, he'd trained it well. Sure he didn't have the rippling muscles of a professional bodybuilder or abs like a greek god, but he was lean and toned, the kind of weird muscles developed through practical doing instead of the more even and aesthetically pleasing muscles gained at a fancy gym with actual equipment.
He sighed and shook his head, flexing his arms at his side. He was far beyond what most kids his age were physically, and his experience gave him an edge few others his age, or older, had, but that was it. Lazarus knew his quirk was, much like him, weird. Being able to come back from the dead may be useful in a brawl to the death, but in a protected school environment? Against robots? Lazarus could swing above his weight class because he didn't fear death, injury or consequence; Thusly, he never had to worry about his guard or his defence, he overwhelmed his foe blow-for-blow, tit-for-tat, even if it broke his body, because his body was just another tool that he could repair no matter how many times it broke. But robots didn't feel the drain of a battle, they didn't feel pain. Robots could do everything he could do but better, he could just be repaired faster.
Before Lazarus knew it, he had grabbed his bag and had walked out the door. He thought about following Hanta to train, but Lazarus knew he'd only drag his friend down in his current state. So Lazarus set out for the train station, not knowing his destination, only knowing that he needed a breath of fresh air.
Lazarus walked down the packed street. He had room to move, for once, as if the people around his sensed his strong emotions and purposefully isolated him from the group, as if they were afraid of catching his negative disposition. Or maybe it was just the scowl on his face he couldn't get rid of that gave him away.
His body was curled in defensively, his shoulders sagged and his mouth wouldn't do anything else other than scowl, not that he wanted it to, he was pissed at everything, so why bother trying to hide it?
The thoughts followed him everywhere he went; what was the point? He had worked so hard to get here, why was the whole world against him? It was like existence was one big joke and he was the comic punchline. Lazarus knew he'd only have one shot at this, he didn't have the cash to wait around Japan for another year and he knew he'd be forced to go to a normal school if he had to return to America. He wanted to be a hero, so why was everyone making so hard for him to do it?
Suddenly, Lazarus found himself in an alleyway, he turned around to glance behind him. He hadn't even noticed himself diverting his path away from the crowd, he groaned, it seemed his want to be alone transcended even his conscious mind. Lazarus ran a hand along the concrete wall, the alleyway was barren, it wasn't that long, only going for half a block or so, but it was wide enough for Lazarus to pace around in, which he did, comfortably. He looked up to see a maze of stairwells and fire escapes above, which still couldn't fully obstruct the view of the sky. Lazarus took a shaky breath, like most of his breaths he ended up being when he was this stressed. Lazarus ran a hand through his hair, pushing the mess of black and hair gel back off his forehead and to the side. Clenching his fist, he kicked a pebble off to the side as he kept his eyes down. He watched the ground intensely until another pair of shoes entered his view.
Lazarus paused, he had never seen shoes like this before, the tips of the shoe were covered in what looked like razor spikes, he let his gaze slowly move upwards, taking in the entire metal shoe, or boot, or weapon, or whatever it was. Lazarus continued to look upwards noting the leather belt, leather chestpiece, a long torn red scarf and finally white fabric tied around his head, cut eye slits showing off red eyes. Lazarus glanced down then up the large man in front of him once again, taking in every inch of his bladed, intimidating form. Lazarus wanted to step back instinctively, but he felt his breath catch in his throat as he met the man's eyes. Those red eyes burned with an intensity Lazarus had never seen before, it was as if they were always judging, always wanting more, always looking for something better.
Lazarus opened his mouth to speak, but found himself hit with an overwhelming feeling of intimidation, he could barely breathe in the man's presence. The man acknowledged him with a tiny move of the eyes, all of the man's focus transferring to Lazarus in an instant.
Lazarus wanted to run, but for the first time in years, the fear of death truly held his step.
"Are you lost, kid?" The man asked, his rough voice shaking Lazarus to his core. Lazarus found himself in awe, he had never felt like this in the presence of anyone.
Lazarus licked his dry lips, opening and closing his jaw as he tried to find his voice again, "I might be, sir." Lazarus took a step back, his legs felt like jelly, but his limbs had begun to obey him again.
The man made no moves to do anything, only stare at Lazarus with that same silent power, "This isn't a place where normal people should be." The man shifted his foot, and Lazarus flinched, causing the man to huff.
"Who are you?" Lazarus mumbled, his voice coming across as meek and watery. The man looked surprised, tilting his head slightly.
"You do not know who I am?" The man sounded unsure, as if he didn't believe Lazarus.
Lazarus found the energy to break away from the man's gaze, looking up at the sky above as he tried to recall if he knew this man. Lazarus knew he was terrible at remembering names and faces, Heroes were his worst weakness. He knew the big names in the US, obviously, and he had a vague understanding of big Japanese heroes like All Might, Endeavor, and Best Jeanist, but there was something familiar about the man Lazarus couldn't shake.
"You're a pro hero, right?" Lazarus spoke, hoping to avoid admitting he had no idea who the man was exactly. The man blinked.
"I am Stain." The man spoke, his voice dark, clearly irritated Lazarus couldn't recognize him instantly. Lazarus racked his mind, trying to figure out if he had heard of a Pro Hero Stain.
"Oh? Oh! Yeah! Stain! Right, I remember you now!" Lazarus lied through his teeth, hoping Stain wouldn't press him for details, though Lazarus couldn't shake the fact that he had heard of Stain somewhere before. Maybe it had been in his travel advisory package, the one he had been unable to read properly at the time; However, why a hero would be in his travel advisory Lazarus couldn't figure out.
Stain frown deepened, "Then you should know you shouldn't be here, count yourself lucky I have no business with non-heroes." Stain turned to walk away, Lazarus took a deep breath as soon as Stain's eyes left Lazarus, however, Lazarus suddenly felt a need to justify himself, after all, it wasn't every day you met a Pro Hero alone.
"I am a hero!" Lazarus spoke, lifting his chin proudly, feeling the need to let Stain know of who he was. Instantly, there was a blade at his exposed throat.
"What did you say?" Stain spoke, having instantly drawn his blade in the time it had taken Lazarus to blink. Lazarus felt the need to swallow, but was terrified Stain was going to slice his adam's apple in half.
"Well, I mean, I want to be a hero." Lazarus corrected, leaning slightly further away from Stain, who leaned slightly forward to keep his blade at Lazarus's throat.
"And you're telling me this?" Stain said, his eyes now burrowing even deeper into Lazarus's soul, "Do you have a death wish, child?" Stain spoke simply.
"Well, I mean, I want to be a hero, so I gotta have a death wish, right?" Lazarus tried to smile, still wondering if all Japanese heroes were this aggressive and terrifying.
Stain said nothing, his eyes still locked onto Lazarus, but this time, Lazarus met his gaze without fear. Stain slowly lowered his blade.
"You have lost your fear of death." Stain spoke, in the same slow even tone had had kept for most of their admittedly one-sided conversation.
"It's a gift." Lazarus smirked.
"It wasn't a compliment, and it shouldn't be taken as one." Stain spoke crisply, shattering Lazarus's mirth instantly.
"You must be real fun at parties, ya'know?" Lazarus chuckled, halting as soon as Stain's gaze grew more intense.
"It's a poor choice for you to come here and try and mock me, child." Stain grabbed for his blade, for a moment, Lazarus forgot he was talking to a pro hero who wouldn't actually hurt him and held up his hands defensively.
"Woah! Sorry! Sorry! I've been told I have poor taste in humor. Very often actually." Lazarus relaxed as Stain dropped his hands back to his sides.
"Leave, kid, I have no reason to make you my target today." Stain spoke as he yet again moved to leave, Lazarus felt a very primal part of his brain beg him to let the man before him leave, but his curiosity that often got him killed won out in the end.
"I want to be a hero! But I don't think I can be." Lazarus blurted, as soon as Stain had his back to Lazarus. Stain paused mid stride, as if contemplating what to do.
"Explain. Quickly." Stain spoke, making no further move to leave, Lazarus took a deep inhale of air.
"So, right, a year ago, I suddenly decided 'hey I should maybe do something with my life!' so then I thought about it for a while and figured since all I really knew how to do was fight, becoming a pro-hero sounds pretty cool!" Lazarus paused, smiling, "So I decided to come to UA to become the best Hero! So I could, ya know, beat up villains, have the financial stability I never had before, all the good stuff." Lazarus stopped again, trying to figure out how to word the rest of his thoughts, "But my Quirk, I mean, it's great, but it's not very flash or destructive, and they're going to have us prove ourselves with some combat training, and I'm really just, kinda unfair you know? I mean, it's like they're discriminating against me because I don't have the kinda quirk most heroes have. So, I mean, ah, I'm rambling, I, I just kinda want to know what your take on all of it is?" Lazarus looked up, ready for anything.
Stain's back was still to Lazarus, but there was a tension in his body, one Lazarus was instantly worried about. It was the kind of full body clenching that was reserved to coming home to find someone had set your house on fire, crashed your car, and kicked your dog.
"You…" Stain began, then let out something between an exasperated sigh and an angry yell, "If you were not so eager for advice, I would strike you down right here." Lazarus blinked, completely blindsided by Stains rage.
Stain didn't turn, keeping his expression hidden from Lazarus as a gust of wind down the alleyway sent his red scarf dancing in the air, "You cannot become a hero, ever. I recommend giving up right now and going home." Lazarus felt a stinging in his chest, he had been told that before, of course, but never by a professional. Before Lazarus could respond, Stain continued.
"Your fault is not your quirk, or your body, or the school you have chosen, your fault is with yourself, you lack resolve, you lack conviction." Stain slowly turned, a single red eye, aglow with an inner fire pinning Lazarus to where he stood.
"Your very essence is not heroic in the least, your very reasons for your dreams are as corrupt as the world that birthed them. You are everything wrong with heroics, no, with this society, in a single walking body." Stain turned slightly further, showing his clenched fists and grinding teeth, "You complain about discrimination? Will villans care about your limits when committing crimes? Will they care about how many patrols you've completed to line your pocket with cash when lives are on the line?" Stain stepped towards Lazarus, and Lazarus felt utterly naked and helpless under Stain's gaze, like his skin was being ripped apart to expose the very things he tried so hard to hide.
Stain drew his blade and pointed it at the wall, his eyes following the blade for a moment before latching back onto Lazarus, "If I had a person at the end of my blade, you've revealed you're more concerned about defeating me and cashing a paycheck then the person you've 'sworn' to protect, the person I will kill because of your selfishness." Stain looked at Lazarus with such disdain that it snapped Lazarus out of his stupor.
"Hey! I've had a tough life, alright? Everything I've achieved I did though my own work, is it wrong that I want a little happiness at the end of-" Lazarus began, his tone raised to overpower stains voice.
"Yes." Stain said in a single shout, silencing Lazarus instantly, before Stain brought his voice back down, "I don't care about your life."
Lazarus bit his cheek, anger mixed with sadness rising in his chest.
Stain regarded Lazarus without mercy, "No one cares about your life. No one cares about your happiness. You do not become a hero to be happy, to find popularity. A true hero struggles endlessly, giving everything they have to be a symbol to the people of the world," Stain threw his arms out to the side, his blade gleaming in the air, "A hero cares not for worldly desires which corrupt their true purpose. A hero cares for a single thing, a single thing which you have no ability to comprehend." Stain leaned into Lazarus, so close Lazarus could feel Stains breath on his face. Stain raised his blade to Lazarus's throat.
"Go home, you cannot be a hero as you are." Stain paused, giving Lazarus a chance to respond, Lazarus had so many words to say, but under Stains gaze, every single one of them turned to dust in his mouth.
"...Disappointing." Stain spoke quietly as he removed the blade from Lazarus's throat, "If you try and stop me from leaving again, I will kill you where you stand." For some reason, Lazarus believed him.
Lazarus felt tears stream down his cheeks, his fingernails dug into his palms, drawing blood. He tried to push Stain's words from his mind but everywhere his thoughts turned, Stain's words were there. Lazarus raised a palm to his head and placed it over his eyes.
Blood.
Lazarus felt the memory bubble to the surface.
Twelve o'clock on the dot, the broken clock on the wall never showed the right minute, but always chimed on the hour.
Lazarus tried to escape the tormenting memory, but Stain's words pushed him back towards it.
His mother, with her long black hair, had just finished her after-work shower, and was preparing a late lunch, walking around in a long white house coat that had a different coloured belt. As she moved around the kitchen in their tiny one-story home, she smiled at Lazarus every time she caught his eyes from the cramped living room.
Lazarus raised his other hand to his head, trying to repress the memory before it fully became realized in his mind.
Lazarus was watching their old television, the news was playing a segment on new up and coming heroes debuting in America, the next segment was suppose to be an interview with All Might about becoming a hero. Lazarus heard a car pull up in front of their house, he saw his mom look at the clock curiously. He was happy, the whole family would be there in time to eat lunch together.
"Mommy, thank you for pulling me out of daycare today!" Lazarus spoke happily, as excited as a four year old could be.
His mother smiled in that soft, motherly way she always did at him, "Oh my little Darling, don't worry! Soon your father will be here and we'll all finally be together again!"
Lazarus felt himself tense, his fingernails digging into his forehead, knowing fully well what happened next.
The front door opened, letting the afternoon light into the room, covering the figure in the doorway in dark shadows. His father stood there, still wearing his police uniform, his eyes hidden behind his lowered cap. His mother walked out of the kitchen space to greet him.
Then Lazarus saw the shotgun in his father's hands.
"What did you say?" Stain spoke. Lazarus looked up, he saw Stain, half an inch away from his face. Lazarus looked at his own arm, firmly on Stain's shoulder, as stains own arm had buried a knife deep into Lazarus's arm. Lazarus barely felt the wound.
"I said there is too much death in this world." Lazarus repeated, his voice filled with an energy he didn't know he could posses, "You're right Stain, all that other stuff was unheroic, and it was all untrue." Lazarus's eyes battled Stain's own, unflinchingly watching.
"I hide behind it," Lazarus began, "I hide behind my words, the jokes, the whining and complaining, because society won't accept the truth that drove me to want to be a hero. They can't accept the truth. They refuse to believe that Heroes never can, never do, address the true ills of a society, they treat the symptoms, villains, without looking for the source." Lazarus stopped, looking for any sign of a reaction in Stain, Stain showed nothing.
"Society is not a person. It is not a thing that truly exists, it is a word we use to address the deep seated beliefs of the average, the uninformed, the everyman. Villains are not born from nothingness, they are a reflection of what society truly is, what the people truly are," Lazarus felt his other hand tighten into a fist, "The people of the world build their walls, they teach people to lie to themselves, to hide the things that isolate them from the collective. They teach that the only thing you have to fear are the Villains. Then they put heroes on a pedestal to fight the very sickness they created. Heroes bring repression, repression breeds villainy. Who suffers at the end of the day from this sick cycle?" Lazarus frowned.
"Death comes for everyone, I know that better than anyone else I've ever met. Villains and Heroes, right and wrong, justice and order, freedom and repression? Who the hell cares about any of that? Those things are temporary, constructs, that exist in those brief moments between life and nothingness." Lazarus felt something deep in his gut, a fire that he had repressed for so long, that he had hidden, being fed by his words, "In the end, The world will always be broken, you cannot change a society whose people are so corrupted at its very core. All you can do is try to forestall the inevitable, to hold back ruin." Lazarus felt the fire reach his eyes, and instead of the rush of unstable emotions he expected, he instead found himself calmed and collected in a way he never had before.
"That is my conviction Stain. I will forestall what can not be stopped, I will be the barrier between life and death. I can never save a life, as life was never meant to be saved."
His father's gaze, coming into view as his dad raised the shotgun, aiming it directly at his mother's chest, the eyes of a man who was dead inside.
Lazarus saw his mother turn, ignoring his Father to look one last time at Lazarus with a warm smile. And as her smile faltered, Lazarus would have given anything to see that smile last for one second longer.
"I will, with my own life, spend every moment I have to give someone else another chance at one. Because that is all I can do." Lazarus gazed deep into Stain's eyes, not looking for acceptance or rejection, but simply looking. Lazarus no longer needed Stain's words, he had found his own.
Stain smiled, a wide, unhinged smile, "That, that is conviction."
Lazarus released Stain's shoulder from his grip, grabbing the knife embedded in his arm and with a swift tug, yanked it free. Holding it in his off hand. He had never felt like this before, it felt like the words he had wanted to say, wanted to yell, for so long had finally been given power, and that power had been given right back to him. Even now, he could feel the fire burning inside him urging him forward.
Stain turned to face Lazarus completely, his wild smile still plastered across his face, "You are still so underdeveloped," He spoke, more to himself then to Lazarus, but Lazarus still absorbed his words, "You are cynical and untrusting, you lack the faith in your own ability to elevate your conviction to greater heights, but that can be developed, that can grow with time." Stain's smile faded until it was simply an amused grin.
Stain looked Lazarus over, Lazarus stood still, not out of fear or intimidation, but in pride. Lazarus felt different, his posture felt stronger, his vision seemed clearer and even with his wounds, he felt no pins or pain at all. Stain laughed.
"I wonder what kind of hero you will become?" Stain crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, "Now I can give you the advice you seek, though I feel you may have found it already within yourself. With conviction, no obstacle can stand in your way, with your mind truly clear, truly focused on a singular goal, nothing can shake you from your path. A true hero will over triumph over those with weaker conviction. Now you must meditate on your newfound conviction, and find a way to elevate it." Stain did not turn to leave, but instead moved to walk past Lazarus, Lazarus held out the knife for Stain, but Stain shook his head.
"Take that blade as a reminder of your conviction. Use it to remind yourself if you ever forget this fateful encounter. Though if you ever do truly forget your conviction, know I will one day come to remind you." As Stain finished, Lazarus shivered, Stain's words imprinting themselves on his brain.
"What is your conviction?" Lazarus asked, his words no longer meek.
Lazarus caught Stain smiling as he walked by, Lazarus turned to watch Stain's back as he moved away.
"What is your name?" Stain asked as he leapt up, grabbing onto a fire escape, quickly moving away.
"I'm Lazarus!" Lazarus called, knowing that Stain would soon disappear, and Lazarus would probably never see him alone again.
Stain paused, then turned, his body cloaked in shadows cast by the escape above him, leading Lazarus to only see his crimson eyes, "Lazarus, I will rebuild society, by taking back what it means to be a hero from the fakes." Stain quickly scaled farther up and away, yet his voice still echoed down the alley, "That is my conviction."
Lazarus paused for a moment, processing not only Stain's own conviction, but the certainty and resolve that showed in his voice as he spoke it. Lazarus yelled suddenly, having one more question.
"Wait! How did you know stabbing me wasn't going to actually hurt me?" Lazarus shouted up into the abyss above him, but if Stain heard him, he gave no reply.
Lazarus slumped to the ground, placing a hand over his still bleeding wound on his arm. In awe of his encounter with Stain. Lazarus felt no more doubts cloud his mind, he had no questions in his heart as to how he would proceed. Lazarus looked at the bloody knife on the ground beside him and smiled. Stain may have been unconventional, and a little crazy, but Lazarus knew he would never be able to repay the debt he owed to Stain for the fire he had lit inside Lazarus's heart.
Lazarus took his hand off the wound and wiped his now soiled hand on his shirt, before grabbing at his phone, opening his search engine, curiosity yet again getting the better of him. He began to type out Stain, but then stopped.
Lazarus locked his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. He looked up at where Stain had gone and smiled, "Society is corrupt, but you're going to rebuild it eh? Well, I don't need to know what those fakes are saying about you." Lazarus spoke to himself softly as he got to his feet, picking up Stain's knife and slipping it into his back pocket, "I will become a Hero who will fulfill the conviction you've shown me. One day Stain, I will meet you again and show you the Hero I've become. That I promise."
Lazarus let his gaze linger on the sky above him, his body rejuvenated and ready for the future. He barely reacted when his pocket started to buzz. Reaching down for his phone, he answered it and heard Hanta's voice on the other line.
"Hey, man, look I'm sorry for being so harsh earlier." Hanta spoke sheepishly, Lazarus just chuckled.
"You were right, I've learned that now, a true hero never lets potential failure halt his convictions." Lazarus spoke simply, without the normal flair and padding he added to his more serious comments, clearly surprising Hanta if the silence on the other line was any indication.
"Oh, okay, it sounds like you've had an eventful hour. You sound… different." Hanta stumbled over his words, Lazarus shook his head, knowing Hanta wouldn't understand.
"All it took to find my conviction was being stabbed in an alleyway, I'll be home soon." Lazarus lowered the phone from his ear, beginning the walk home, ignoring the trail of blood he left behind him.
"Okay well I'll be there- wait, hold on again? Lazarus? Lazarus did you get stabbed in another alley? Damn it Lazarus!" Hanta faint voice cried from the phone in Lazarus's hand, Lazarus quickly hit the end call button, taking a moment to roll his eyes before slipping his hands into his pockets and returning to the street.
Lazarus noticed that his shoulders were wide and strong, his chin held high, his legs were sturdy and his mind was sharp. Lazarus was momentarily ashamed at his prior behavior, now that he had given voice to the words he should have said long ago, but he pushed that doubt away. Today he would be reborn, today he had found his conviction.
Tomorrow, he would reflect; the day after, he would train; and then he would take the first steps to become a hero.
Or die.
Lazarus pushed his hair out of his face, feeling protected from the early morning air by a thick black wool jacket as he reaffirmed his resolution in front of the massive closed gate that led to UA. Hanta stood beside him, tired and cold, complaining.
"The exam doesn't start for another few hours! The school isn't even open yet!" Hanta groaned as Lazarus took a seat, crossing his legs in front of the gate.
"Then we have time to prepare ourselves. We must be prepared for the trial we are about to undergo, after all, our preparation will determine if we will succeed, or fail." Lazarus felt the fire in his gut still alight, though noticeably dimmer than when he had awoken to it two days ago.
"Seriously man? What are you? Who are you?" Hanta sighed as he flopped onto the ground beside lazarus, curling into a ball to ward off the pre-sunrise chill, "I miss the philosophical Lazarus, he wouldn't have gotten me up this early." Hanta mumbled as Lazarus couldn't help but laugh, wrapping an arm around Hanta and giving him a hug.
"Come on man! Like you were even sleeping, I was such an anxious mess last night, I'm not sure I even slept at all." Lazarus poked Hanta in the side, causing Hanta to push away from him.
"Fine! So I wasn't sleeping, but at least I was more relaxed then I am now!" Hanta pouted as he placed his head in between his knees.
"Excuse me?" A feminine voice interrupted the two of them, Lazarus and Hanta both looked at each other with confusion for a second, before turning around. Instantly, Lazarus felt his face go red, and he could feel the heat radiating off of Sero's own face beside him.
The woman before them was unlike anything Lazarus had seen before. She had a skintight white outfit that seemed to be about as durable and thick as tissue paper, black heels and a black leather corset with a strap leading up distractingly through her cleavage, (which Lazarus tried his hardest not to let his gaze linger on.) She had long black hair and a red pair of glasses on her head which Lazarus highly doubted were actually prescription lenses. After taking a moment to process what exactly he was looking at, as well as remembering his initial thoughts about Hanta's powers, Lazarus wondered whether on not everyone in Japan did in fact have a night job working at a BDSM dungeon.
If the woman had any issues with the two of them gazing at her body, she didn't show it, she simply smiled, holding a cardboard box in her arms. Her blue eyes flickered idly from Lazarus to Hanta every few seconds.
"Would either of you two boys," She purred, the smile on her face growing slightly more innocent, "Mind helping me set some things up inside? Since you've come so early, I promise you'll be done before the exam starts, and I'd be really thankful for the extra set of hands." The woman winked at Lazarus, causing Lazarus to instantly forgo his careful preparation and rise instantly to his feel. Hanta bolted up just as quickly putting a foot in front of Lazarus to keep himself closer to the lady.
"Midnight-san!" Hanta choked out. Lazarus looked at him with surprise, he momentarily entertained the thought that his BDSM conspiracy theory held some water, and then fell back on the much more logical conclusion that she was a teacher at UA and a pro hero.
Lazarus put his elbow in front of Hanta's chest and pushed back, causing Hanta to lose his balance due to his poor foot positioning, "Midnight-san." Lazarus copied Hanta, "I'm sure we'd both be happy to help!" Lazarus glanced back at Hanta, whose animosity towards Lazarus quickly turned to thankful agreement.
Midnight paused, placing a hand on her cheek, "Oh! Thank you! But I don't want you to lose your place in line, I'll only need one of you young boys to give me a hand." As Midnight spoke, she caressed her cheek slowly. Lazarus glanced behind him and saw the exact same thought he was having go through Hanta, this was a race, and Lazarus was closer to the finish line. Hanta turned his head and accepted that Lazarus had won.
Lazarus turned and put on his most winning smile, "I-" Lazarus began, stepping forward and lifting his arm, causing the knife strapped to his chest to shift, poking at where his heart was suppose to be, causing him to pause.
"Take that blade as a reminder of your conviction…"
Lazarus sighed, accepting that being a hero sucked.
"I, am sure that Hanta will be able to give you all the help you need, I need to focus on preparing myself for the exam, respectfully." As Lazarus spoke, each word hurt him deep within the part of his mind was responsible for hormones.
Midnight smiled, her eyes locking onto Hanta, who smiled back as he stroked up to Lazarus.
"I take it back, I like this Lazarus way more." Hanta whispered as he swiftly moved to stand beside Midnight.
Midnight gently handed the box off to Hanta. Hanta grunted as he took the box, clearly surprised at the weight; However, when Midnight placed a hand Hanta's shoulder, Hanta suddenly seemed to carry the box without any problem at all. As they both moved towards the gate, Midnight held out a tiny ID card, the gate opened slid open, allowing her and Hanta to pass.
"Good luck prepping!" Midnight called out behind her, turning over her shoulder to look at Lazarus.
Lazarus froze, Midnights face was twisted, her blue eyes alight with a desire Lazarus couldn't place as she licked her lips in a way that made him genuinely uncomfortable.
"I'll try and bring him back soon~" Midnight spoke, her voice taking on a sing-songy tone in the moment before the gate closed again, separating Lazarus from the two of them.
Lazarus wiped his brow, "you know," he mumbled to himself, "maybe I just dodged a bullet there."
Lazarus sat down, closing his eyes and centering his focus. He had never been one for meditation, but he hoped the exercise would calm his pounding heart.
He felt the air move around him, his mind quickly began to wander, no matter how much Lazarus tried to focus, he couldn't quite out-meditate his anxiety.
Lazarus delved deeper into his mind, trying to slow the beat of his heart for what felt like forever, trying to re-ignite his resolve.
"Oh, hello." Lazarus sighed as his shoulders sagged, his concentration broken again, he turned around to face the new voice.
Lazarus felt his brow shoot up in surprise, the man in front of him looked...wrong, incomplete. The man was like what Lazarus assumed he looked like when he was almost done coming back from the dead. The man' baggy suit looked expensive and well maintained, a sharp contrast against the figure wearing it. The man's hands were gaunt and withered, as if the skin had simply been pulled over bone, the muscle forgotten somewhere along the way. While the man's blond hair was a mess of loose strands jetting out into something that could have been called a fashion statement if his sunken eyes didn't give his entire head the sense that he had just crawled out of bed, or the morgue.
Lazarus tried not to stare at the man, while normally he had no problem making uncomfortably long eye contact with people, staring at this man made him feel… unwell. Lazarus had walked the narrow line between life and death his whole life, and every instinct told him this man was doing the same.
"G'morning sir." Lazarus replied quickly, purposefully avoiding looking directly at the man's face. Lazarus dreaded the man was going to ask for money or a drink, but he simply stood there.
"You do know you are a little early for today's exam." As the man spoke, Lazarus tilted his head.
"You a Pro Hero?" Lazarus questioned, the man froze for a second, as if he was caught off guard by the question.
"W-what makes you say that young man?" The man asked, stopping afterwards to cough loudly into his hand, the cough was dry and sickly; it reminded Lazarus of sounds that he'd heard, that he'd rather have stay forgotten.
"Well you certainly aren't a student." Lazarus delivered dryly, looking anywhere but directly at the man in front of him, occasionally flickering his eyes across the man's face as to not seem overly rude.
The man paused, and then began laughing, Lazarus was surprised, it was a deep and merry laugh, the kind of laugh that you only ever heard across a crowded room, a laugh so genuine and happy that just hearing it made you happy. The man put a hand to the back of his neck and smiled, revealing a row of pearly white teeth that almost completely overwrote the sickness in his eyes.
"Very astute young man! I am Toshinori Yagi, I am a...administrative assistant to All Might!" Toshinori bowed slightly, Lazarus stood and brushed himself off.
"Wow, so you're, like, All Might's underpaid, but overworked intern right?" Lazarus grinned as he mimicked the bow, wondering if the press knew All Might worked his staff till they looked like Toshinori did, "Pleasure's all mine Yagi-san. You can just call me Lazarus, everyone does, because it's my name." Lazarus spoke slowly, stretching out his arms and legs as he did, trying not to put too much snark in his voice, he didn't want the end of his dreams to come from getting into a fight with a sick man outside of UA.
Toshinori coughed, again, clearly a little taken aback by Lazarus's comment, "Ah, well, I'd like to think my responsibilities are a little more important, but I suppose it's one way to think about it," Toshinori stood still for a moment, clearly trying to come up with some more small talk before heading inside, "So, you're here for the exam?"
Lazarus grinned and raised his fist, opening and closing it with as much energy as he could muster, "I'm not here for the view, that's for sure. I'll be sure to see you around UA after I get in." Toshinori chuckled.
"Confident in your success?" Toshinori asked, Lazarus shrugged.
"I guess I've learned these last few days that there's no use wasting energy on planning for failure," Lazarus cracked his neck audibly, causing the blond in front of him to wince, "If I make victory the only possibility in my mind, then I can put all my energy towards that goal, only then will I have done everything I could do to succeed, and I can accept the results regardless."
Toshinori nodded, "That is a good way to think about it!" Toshinori raised a single thumb in front of him, "I'll be rooting for you, Lazarus, was it?" Lazarus nodded, and Toshinori joined him for a moment, before they both returned to stillness.
However, Toshinori clearly felt like he was on a roll, "So! Have you heard the rumors that All Might is teaching at UA this year?"
Lazarus sat down again, he needed to get back to his meditation, he'd only started it two days ago and he knew every moment he wasted not doing it was another moment he couldn't reach enlightenment, or tranquility, or stabbing-nirvana, or whatever the hell Stain said meditation was suppose to help him do, "Yeah, well, you're here so it's gotta be true."
Toshinori blinked, as if he hadn't expected Lazarus to make the incredibly simple leap in logic, "Very, astute!" Toshinori locked his arms behind his head, still smiling, "Admit it, you came early to try and get a glimpse of him, didn't you?" Toshinori grinned and looked down the street as if searching for something or someone.
Lazarus sat passively, Toshinori grin widened as he continued, "You know, maybe you'll get lucky and you'll be able to see a glimpse of him, he should arrive shortly-" Lazarus groaned and shook his head, interrupting Toshinori.
"No offense to you, but I have zero interest in seeing All Might, actually." Lazarus spoke bluntly as he closed his eyes, trying to recenter his breath, hoping Toshinori wouldn't push the issue.
Toshinori however, clearly didn't pick up on the hint, "Ah, too nervous are you? If you want, I'm sure I could get a signature-" As Toshinori spoke, Lazarus stood suddenly and stared Toshinori dead in the eyes, the unsettling feeling in his gut forgotten.
"Let me be clear, I have no interest in All Might as a celebrity, a hero or a person." Lazarus grinded his teeth as he saw Toshinori physically be taken aback, "Look, I'm sure he's a great guy, maybe. And no one can argue he's 'saved' lots of lives, but to me? All Might is an egotistical representation of everything that is dooming society to an eventual, violent collapse."
As Lazarus sat back down, Toshinori seemed suddenly very meek as he tapped his two index fingers together and looked at the ground, "I mean, you are free to have any opinion you want young Lazarus, I can't force you to like All Might."
Lazarus took a deep breath, he felt a little bit like an ass for insulting someone a nice guy like Toshinori clearly looked up to, but Lazarus defended himself with the reminder that Toshinori had pushed the issue. Lazarus shuffled on his behind as to no longer face the blond man. Toshinori made no move to enter the gates to UA or walk away, Lazarus tried to focus on his breathing again, but found it impossible knowing Toshinori's sad eyes were burrowing into his back. Lazarus turned to face Toshinori again, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible.
Toshinori seemed to snap out of a trance, suddenly becoming aware of the face Lazarus was returning his gaze, "It's just, not that you can't feel the way you feel…" Lazarus made a gesture for the blond to just spit it out, "What problems do you have with the Symbol of Peace?" Lazarus bolted up and snapped his fingers, pointing at Toshinori.
"That, that's the problem I have with All Might." When Toshinori still looked confused, Lazarus failed to resist the urge to roll his eyes before he continued, "His name! All Might is fine, nothing wrong with that, it's his self-proclaimed title; the Symbol of Peace!" Lazarus threw his hands up in exasperation, Toshinori coughed and held up a finger to point something out.
"He didn't give himself the title, it was given to him." Lazarus groaned as he swatted away Toshinori's comment as if it was a fly.
"Fine, but he acknowledged the title and cultivated it. He's walking around inspiring people, growing his legend wherever he goes, spreading the cult of All Might. He's made it so that he is the one and only, true, Symbol of Peace. That is a fact." Lazarus began to pace, the calmness from his previous meditation completely thrown out the window.
"I wouldn't call it a cult." Toshinori interjected.
"I would." Lazarus responded instantly. Sighing as he recomposed himself, slightly, "You want to know why symbols are so damn important to people?" Lazarus's voice took on a dictating tone as he spoke down to Toshinori. Toshinori frowned.
"Educate me." Toshinori crossed his arms, clearly irritated at Lazarus's tone, but also a little curious at where Lazarus was going with this.
"The flag, that's a symbol." Lazarus began, "A statue; a memorial; the dove, the species, not an individual mind you; and a blue sky. What do all these things have in common?" Lazarus paused, when Toshinori made no move to interact, Lazarus continued, "I'll tell you, they're timeless. A statue can outlive dynasties and empires, and if it falls, it can be rebuilt. And while humans have tried pretty damn hard accidentally, without a collective effort, we're not going to make doves go extinct any time soon; and even if we did, honestly, it would just become a really fitting metaphor for what we do with peace. The symbols meaning would change, but the symbol wouldn't. Do you get what I mean?" Lazarus took a moment to breathe.
"All Might is a good hero, the best damn hero ever, but he's made one fatal flaw." Lazarus bit his tongue as he realized this was his last chance to back out without showing his hand to Toshinori. Lazarus shook the impulse away, he had never been one to not finish what he started.
"All Might is mortal. All Might, will die." Lazarus spoke without inflection, or emotion, it wasn't an argument, it was a fact.
"..." Toshinori said nothing, all his attention on Lazarus.
"Maybe it won't be soon, or maybe it will be. A villain gets a lucky hit in, or maybe, god help us all, a villain more powerful than All Might arises. Or maybe in ten or twenty years All Might just retires because of arthritis or something else old people get." Lazarus felt himself get into the zone, "Then what happens? You know what happens? I'll tell you, what happens. The Symbol of Peace? Dies." Lazarus stood still, his feet planted as he was well aware he was more talking at Toshinori then to him at this point, but it felt so good to get it off his chest after weeks of listening to All Might worship from Hanta.
"All Might dies, like everything, like everyone. The universe always moves towards entropy, and not even a 'Detroit Smash' can change that undisputable fact. All Might has taken all the responsibility of a symbol. For an entire generation, All Might is indisputably the glue that holds their world, the world of heroes, together." Lazarus narrowed his eyes.
"It's not healthy, and don't fool yourself; it's not good for society. All Might is the world's happy-pill, as long as they get their dose of that smiling slab of meat, they stay docile and nice and don't break the law. But when he's gone? What then? What will the world do when their supply is swiftly cut off." Lazarus moved into Toshinori's personal space, suddenly imagining he was talking to All Might himself and not Toshinori's sickly form. In his head, he could almost see All Might's bright blond hair and striking features in Toshinori's own visage.
"When All Might dies, not if, when. When that happens, society will break, the world will descend into anarchy, and all those lives All Might 'saved?' they'll be lost too in the resulting riots and uprise of villainy from the shadows his death creates. Because the Heroes of the world rely on All Might as the pinnacle of their existence just as much as the citizens do, All Might is the overprotective mother who never taught her kids to live on their own without her." Lazarus found himself nearing the end of his rant, he had one more push left.
"Because All Might's symbol never stopped crime, it just kept the people frozen in fear; Furthermore, there is a massive number of people out there who have always wanted to break the law, but are too afraid of the Symbol to dare go through with it, so it's not just going to be as if the symbol never existed when All Might dies, no, it'll be ten times worse." Lazarus growled.
"We don't face the evil in our society, we hide it away and pretend it doesn't exist and only focus on the good things, 'smiling through the fear.' and crap like that," Lazarus mocked All Might's fearless smile with a toothy sarcastic one of his own, "They sit there, helpless against their own brains, hoping that our heroes protect us from the bad thoughts so we don't ever have to deal with them ourselves. If our neighbor becomes a villain, that's not because there's something wrong with society, or the area, or the environment he grew up in, he was just a bag egg that the Heroes quickly removed, like a tumor, from society before the poison could spread." Lazarus stomped his foot feeling his emotions guiding his words.
"All Might is a modern day frickin Atlas, holding up society on his back." Lazarus closed his eyes and rubbed his temple, turning his face away from Toshinori, "I just feel like I'm the only one preparing for when he drops the ball." Lazarus finished, his chest feeling lighter, but his gut feeling guilty for pinning all his rage on Toshinori.
As Lazarus looked slightly up at Toshinori's face, he was given pause. Toshinori's face was twisted into sorrow, his mouth was a thin tight line and his eyes were filled with shadows, yet still somehow struck with grief, "You… You worry often about this?" Toshinori spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lazarus looked away, unable to meet Toshinori's eyes, "No." Lazarus said simply. He could feel Toshinori's surprise.
"Not anymore, I mean, as I said, everyone dies eventually, it's not something I can do anything about, so it kinda just makes me angry when I think about it. It's not like I think I could do All Might's job better than he can, or that I think he's done all of this out of stupidity or malice." Lazarus tried to piece together the fragments of his thoughts left in a way that made sense, "Society is screwed, and All Might didn't screw over society, he tried his best to make the most out of what he was given, and he did a damn good job keeping things in line, and holding the title of a living symbol for so long...and now I feel like a little bit of an jackass for badmouthing him after all the hard work he's done." Lazarus sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, his more rational emotions returning to him.
Toshinori suddenly pulled him into a hug, Lazarus almost kneed him in the gut, but thankfully caught himself before he did anything rash. Lazarus didn't know how to respond, so he just gently patted him on the back, trying not to cause a coughing fit in the sickly man.
Toshinori released him and smiled that brilliant smile of his, "You are far too cynical for your age, young man. Leave such thoughts about death and ruin to the old."
Lazarus laughed, "You aren't the first to tell me that." Lazarus paused for a moment, then smiled worriedly, "Uh, you're not going to tell your boss about anything I said, right?" Lazarus swallowed a lump in his throat when Toshinori began smiling deviously, "I mean, I'd hate to have one of the teachers hate me if I get accepted into the school, er, for when I get accepted, I mean." Lazarus began to ramble before Toshinori placed a firm hand on Lazarus's shoulder and gave a surprisingly firm squeeze, winking as he lifted a finger to his lip.
"I'll keep this our little secret, young Lazarus." As Toshinori finished, Lazarus relaxed.
"I owe you one Toshi- uh, ehem, Yagi-san." Lazarus quickly corrected himself, hoping Toshinori didn't catch the informal slip.
Toshinori simply chuckled one last time as he walked by Lazarus and held a keycard to the gate, opening it instantly. Toshinori turned one last time to Lazarus, giving a little wave, which Lazarus returned as the gate shut, leaving Lazarus alone once more.
Lazarus smiled, then returned to neutral, his emotions finally finding balance again. Lazarus sunk to the ground, returning to his cross legged position as he placed his hands on his knees naturally. Lazarus took a deep breath in, then slowly released it.
He understood what he needed to do now, his rant had inadvertently taught him the power of meditation, the power of gathering tension and finding blissful release. For now he would gather his emotions, his wild and untamed thoughts and turn them to kindling, and when the time was right, he would ignite them.
And then his conviction would burn brighter than the sun.