I went back to school the next day, as if nothing had happened.

The classes hadn't changed. The building stayed the same. Most people still eyed me with poorly veiled disdain and fear.

A few, however, seemed to look at me differently. I wasn't sure I liked it.

I spent the first half of the day with my shoulders hunched and the fur on my back prickling. The library, at least, remained a sanctuary during lunchtime. Toshiharu made to sit next to me, but reconsidered after I shot him a glare.

I took my time eating, almost picking at my food. Normally I'd eat quickly and use a library computer to idly browse the internet after, but today I just didn't have the stomach for that. The article I'd written and submitted in yesterday's fit of pique weighed on my mind. What kind of response had it received? What kind of response had I wanted it to receive?

I'd have to face my hopefully-still-adoring public at some point… but for now, I procrastinated.

I was only three-fourths finished with my food when my lunch break ended.

I dumped my tray and returned to my homeroom for social studies.

Out of some misguided desire to relate to current events, our teacher decided to talk about the heteromorphic rights movement.

"...and so, left in a deep depression by his failures and long incarceration, Destro took his own life. But even today, his legacy has yet to be settled. So today, we're going to have a special activity- you'll get into groups of five people, decide on whether Destro was 'good' or 'bad', and come up with an argument to support your position. You can use any sources or rhetorical techniques you want. The one thing you can't do, however, is use the terms 'hero' and 'villain.'" The teacher clapped her hands together. "Get to it! You've got fifteen minutes to prepare, and then each group will present!"

I buried my head in my folded arms. I'd hated group projects even in my last life. In this life, that hatred had only managed to intensify.

A finger tapped on my back.

"Um, Rat?"

Toshiharu's voice roused me from my fit of self-pity.

"Would you, uh, be willing to be in our group?"

I lifted my head from my arms and blinked a few times. Toshiharu was giving me a wary, but hopeful look. He looked away reflexively when I met his gaze, but then screwed up his courage and met my eyes with his own.

Fuck it. "Sure."

Several of my classmates hurried out of their desks when I indicated they should make room, allowing my group to set up near the windows. There were four of us- myself, Toshiharu, an ordinary-looking girl, and another heteromorph, an unusually short boy with tentacles coming out of his nostrils. I'd never managed to remember his name, but had nevertheless always felt a kinship with my fellow member of the booster-seat gang.

"So, let's just get this out of the way," I said. "For or against?"

"Destro?" asked Toshiharu.

"Obviously."

"For, right?" said the girl. "He's a civil rights legend… he accomplished so much for the acceptance of quirks!"

"No way. Definitely against," the short boy piped in. "He made some good points, but was way too quick to resort to violence. If it weren't for the backlash he caused, we might have quirk laws way closer to what the USA has."

Toshiharu perked up. "That's just an excuse. The Diet was already passing laws to restrict quirks even before Destro was active. The entrenched elites were always going to clamp down on quirks. If it weren't for Destro, we'd be even more restricted."

I leaned back as they got into the argument. Despite Toshiharu and the girl ganging up on him, the short boy seemed to be holding his own. I swept my gaze over the rest of the room. Several of the groups were engaged in similar arguments, while others were simply using this group project as an excuse to chat or play on their phones.

Seeing nothing of interest in the rest of the room, my gaze was inexorably drawn towards the window. The view hadn't changed since the last time I looked, but I might as well take advantage of being towards the edge of the classroom today.

After a few minutes of watching, my attention was piqued when a news van parked across the street from the school.

Then came the sirens.

Discussions elsewhere in the room tapered off as more and more people began to notice what was happening outside. Even our teacher looked up from whatever she was doing on her laptop.

A small armada of police cars streamed into the school's courtyard, driving over the curb to park on the sidewalks and laws. Police officers emerged from their cars, and several made their way into the school.

There was a minute of hushed and not-so-hushed conversions. Several people pulled out their phones and updated their social media profiles with pictures and videos of the police cars and their own exaggerated reactions.

I had three guesses as to why the policemen were here, and the first two didn't count. I hopped down from my desk, resigned to face my fate with as much poise as I could muster.

Someone knocked, hard, against the classroom door.

An authoritative voice called my teacher's attention. She walked to the door and briefly conferred with the person on the other side.

She turned around to scan the classroom. "Junichiro?"

The attention of the entire room turned towards me.

She had a bewildered, and somewhat frightened expression on her face. "The police want to talk to you."

I let out a bark of derisive laughter. "Talk to me. Sure." She flinched.

I turned to Toshiharu. "Here." I handed him my bag. "Make sure this gets to my sister." Better he hold onto it than let it fall into police custody. After yesterday, I didn't trust the police not to damage or 'misplace' my belongings just to spite me.

The teacher opened the door the rest of the way to reveal a bulky police officer, already fingering a pair of extra-small handcuffs.

I walked forward to meet him with the distinct air of a man walking towards a noose.

"Wait!"

I stopped. Me and the policeman both turned our attention to the origin of the voice- Toshiharu.

"You can't do this!"

The policeman scoffs. "Whatever, kid." He turned his attention towards me. "Hands out."

For the second time in three days, I was handcuffed. He marched me out of the classroom, but not before I heard several of my classmates shout protests.

The policeman slammed the door, and for a moment, that seemed to be that.

We got about halfway down the corridor before the door opened back up- and my classmates started streaming out. The policeman glanced back before facing forward again. He pulled out his walkie-talkie. "Need backup; kids are getting hostile." The voice on the other side said something indistinguishable back. He forced me to face forward and sped up his pace. I stumbled, having trouble keeping up to him with my short legs. My tail twitched reflexively behind me as I tried to keep my balance.

The policeman cuffed me on the back of the head.

"Hey! Keep that thing under control kid. Don't think we haven't read your quirk testing file."

I clenched my teeth and tried to ignore the taste of blood.

We reached the stairwell just as the students following us started chanting.

The policeman grabbed me by the arms and lifted me up. I yelped in pain as he overextended my joints, nearly dislocating my shoulders. He bundled me under one of his arms and started down the stairs, taking them two steps at a time.

The jarring motion of being carried nauseated me, forcing me to focus on not losing my lunch. I hadn't been fed the last time I'd been jailed, and I was worried today would be a repeat performance.

He slowed down as we reached the bottom floor, but made no move to set me back on my feet.

I kept my eyes screwed shut to avoid becoming any more motion sick than I already was, but the sound of doors opening was unmistakable.

I opened my eyes for a moment. Two officers were holding open the school doors. We passed through the doors and I closed my eyes again. The thud of two additional pairs of boots joined those of the officer carrying me.

Then we stopped.

I opened my eyes again to find out why.

Behind us, a flood of students made their way out of the school doors. Some were heteromorphic. Others weren't. But all of them chanted a familiar slogan.

"I am!"

They began.

And ahead of us, blocking the way of the police officer, was Skeptic.

He held his hand to his forehead, made an 'L' sign, and completed the chant.

"A Liberator!"

A group of people followed directly behind him. Most of them I didn't recognize. Some of them I did.

The blue-skinned woman from the rally. A boy with red-and-white hair. Re-Destro, in one of his signature suits.

Saiai.

The police officer dropped me, freeing up a hand to reach for his gun.

"Back up!" he yelled. "You are obstructing the administration of justice!"

One of the other policemen pulled out his weapon. The chanting of the crowd only intensified. I contorted into a kneeling position, desperately wishing my hands were free so I could dust myself off.

Re-Destro raised a hand above his head and snapped his fingers. At the gesture, his entourage instantly quieted. The students continued for another few words. He placed a hand on Skeptic's shoulder in an avuncular gesture. The two nodded at each other, and he stepped forward.

"Stay back!" The policeman with a weapon yelled. He took a half step forward.

Re-Destro shook his head and smiled. Then he began to speak.

"Justice?"

In one resonant, scornful word, he quieted the crowd.

"You call the unlawful abduction of a young man justice ? The interruption of his education, justice? The brutalization of his body, justice? The suppression of his voice, justice?"

"Shut up!"

The officer tried to interrupt Re-Destro, but his poor timing- or Re-Destro's foresight- made it so his statement only seemed to emphasize Re-Destro's words.

"The Meta Liberation Army will not stand for this. Not now. Not ever. Release him."

"We don't take orders from you," said the policeman, in a low growl.

"Then shoot."

Re-Destro started walking, unhurried and untroubled, towards the policeman.

"Stay back! I'm warning you!"

The policeman's gun wavered in the air. The other two policemen, including the one that had picked me up, unholstered their own weapons.

Re-Destro continued to walk.

The gun fired. Once. Twice. Again and again, until it ran out of bullets. Every shot hit. Re-Destro didn't even wince. He walked until the barrel of the gun pressed against his chest. Dark red skin, empowered by his quirk, stood out starkly from the holes in his striped suit.

"I'm sure you all have families," said Re-Destro, sotto voce. He focused on each of the three police officers in turn. "I'll allow you to return to them. Leave."

The police officers dropped their guns and backed away.

One of the three- the youngest- spoke up. "You won't get away with this! I bet HQ is already asking All Might for backup."

Re-Destro closed his eyes, shook his head, and clicked his tongue. "All Might was a great man," he said. "An exemplar of metahumanity, of what it meant to have and wield power to mold the world towards strongly-held ideals." Re-Destro looked towards the sky. A single tear rolled down his cheek. "A great man, yes. And also a dead one." He looked back towards the policemen, an eerie focus in his eyes.

"What? No! Impossible…"

In a loud voice, obviously meant to carry to his audience of onlookers, Re-Destro announced, "All Might is dead. He died eliminating the threat posed by that oldest and greatest of villains: All For One. He reshaped the foundations of our society while he was still alive, and the legacy he left will reshape our society yet again. He showed us what an individual can accomplish when trusted to use their quirk as their conscience allows. And the Meta Liberation Army will show the world what we can do when that privilege is extended to every single metahuman in Japan."

"And all of you-" Re-Destro gestured towards the crowd of students, teachers, and bystanders that had, by this point, gathered to watch the spectacle, "-are welcome to join us."

Re-Destro crouched down to look at me. I froze in place, like a prey animal staring into the eyes of a ravenous predator. "Beginning with you, Mr. Rat."

He reached behind me. With a casual motion, he pulled apart the chains of my handcuffs, freeing my hands. Then he leaned back and allowed me to push myself to my feet.

"I've been following your work closely ever since your sister recommended your blog to me, and I have to say, I'm a huge fan. If you're willing to join us, we'd love to have you on board. What do you say?"

Naturally, I said "yes."