Back from hiatus!
A quick note for all reading the archive after the update: this next chapter is LONG. If you have a burning desire to get to the end, I'll highlight the most important of these stories, but I do hope you read them all at some point if not now.
The most important ones here are Luckster and Sleuth, but Aeronaut and Surgical Assistant are rather short.
Thank you for reading!
Luckster
July 13th, 1926
"Mitsuzi, since it's your birthday, I have a surprise for you."
At the words, the four-year-old looked away from the tiny mosquito he had been observing on a tree. His small, bare feet hung in the air as he sat on a tree branch, looking around on the ground for the source of that familiar voice. He only saw his house a few meters away, the construction made of wood, a large sliding door open to allow the humid, summer breeze to go through the house. A few other abodes dotted the landscape, making up the small, traditional farming community, the hills and mountains layered with lots of farmland.
Confused, the young boy clad in a white yukata scratched at the black hair on his head, which had yet to develop into the shaggy mane it would be in the years to come. Finally, the source of the voice stepped out from below, smiling up at Mitsuzi in amusement. He was taller, being about seven years older than Mitsuzi, his black hair cut even shorter than that of his younger brother's. His yukata was a light green color, and he looked at Mitsuzi through his brown eyes as he said, "Well, come on, it's not here."
Mitsuzi's small form slipped from the tree branch, bounding to the grass towards Ichijou Mitsuo, the young boy exclaimed excitedly, "What is it, big brother?"
Mitsuo laughed as he led the way, "Well, it wouldn't be a surprise if I just told you..."
Trekking through the wilderness, the two boys were quiet as they walked. Exploring was a customary thing for the two athletic lads, but as they traveled, even Mitsuzi could tell that they were going farther than he ever had gone. He never felt frightened or anxious, however: he was with Mitsuo, and that made him feel more secure than anything.
After a bit more walking, the two finally arrived, going through a few tree boughs, the forest opening up a bit. As Mitsuzi looked around, he gasped at the sight: it was a waterfall, easily dozens of meters tall, going from the lip of a cliff to the valley below, the river continuing into the forest out of sight. He couldn't help but stare in wonder as he saw the thin cloud of spray around the base of the waterfall, its stream not too rough.
Mitsuo smiled, "I play here with some of the older kids sometimes, but now, I think you're old enough- h-hey!" As he spoke, Mitsuzi gleefully scampered to the river, not even bothering to undress as he splashed about in the water, the child already capable of paddling about in shallow waters. Mitsuo sighed, "At least take your yukata off, you'll catch a cold." Looking up at the sun, its rays still bearing down, Mitsuo shrugged, "Or not..."
The two swam about for a while, enjoying the cool water for an hour or so. After a while, Mitsuo left, promising he'd be back soon.
Mitsuzi continued to swim for a while, before stepping back onto the shore, his yukata dripping wet. Gazing up at the waterfall, he felt a sudden, adventurous urge. He wanted to climb it, and see the top. Of course, climbing water was impossible, but next to the waterfall, there was one large tree...
Full of confidence and bluster, the four-year-old began to scale the tree, the small, light boy hopping up the branches like it was nothing. In his eagerness, he forgot the ground below him, focusing on getting higher. The crashing of the waterfall against the river seemed to grow a tiny bit distant.
However, Mitsuzi became lost within the thick leaves, and could hardly see where he was going either. The branches were starting to get thinner too, and harder for his short arms to reach. Wanting to get some perspective, he tried to crawl out on one branch, getting closer to the fall torrent of water. As he hung like a sloth, the branch began to bend, and he slid down slightly, making the branch bend even more. He gasped as the ground seemed to move below him as his looked at it upside down. He could see the waterfall, and that he was fairly close to the top, but every time he tried to return to the tree proper, he only slipped back down, leaves shaking. Mitsuzi realized that he was stuck.
After a few more minutes, he heard a proud voice from above, laughing, "Mitsuzi! Look up here!" Trying to crane his head around to see his older brother, Mitsuzi said nothing, and Mitsuo called, "Huh? Mitsuzi? Where are you!?"
"Here!" Mitsuzi called back.
When he saw his younger brother, hanging precariously, Mitsuo shouted, "What are you doing there!? I said I'd be back soon!"
Sensing his anger, the truth of the situation starting to sink in to the four-year-old's brain, Mitsuzi let out a whine, and tears welled up in his eyes.
"Ah! It's okay, Mitsuzi, I'll get you down safely, somehow..." Mitsuo replied. Mitsuzi tried to calm down, keeping his grip on the branch as tight as he could. Finally, Mitsuo gasped, "Ah! There's an outcropping right there! Can you reach it?"
Mitsuzi looked around, before asking, worry in his voice, "What's an outcopping?"
"Er, it's that rock platform sticking out right there," Mitsuo explained. Now aware of what he was looking for, Mitsuzi saw it quickly. It was small, but so was he. Without waiting for word or instruction, Mitsuzi began to swing, before hopping carefully down, landing on the rock a bit roughly. He heard Mitsuo cry out as he jumped, but luckily, the light boy only sustained a small scrape.
Relieved, Mitsuo said, "Alright, stay there! I'm going to get help. Don't move okay! You understand?"
"Y-yeah," Mitsuzi replied.
"Good, I'll be right back!" Mitsuo said. Mitsuzi could barely hear his footsteps as he ran off.
With no other choice, Mitsuzi waited. As the minutes began to pass, it seemed to get darker. Mitsuzi crouched against the rock wall, staying calm, when he felt a drop of rain hit his nose. Looking up, he saw gray clouds above, and frowned as the sudden summer storm picked up, drenching the area in rain. Mitsuzi didn't mind the moisture: he was already soaking, after all. But it began to get a bit colder. Mitsuzi bundled up as best he could, feeling miserable about his stupid mistake.
After a little while more, he heard a voice over the waterfall, explaining, "He's down here!"
Mitsuzi stood as he heard the voice of one of his neighbors chiding, "Why weren't you watching him better?"
Mitsuo ignored the man, peeking over the edge of the cliff above Mitsuzi. The four-year-old backed up from the wall to the edge of the outcropping, looking up in relief to see his brother smiling, "We're gonna get you up, Mitsuzi! Don't you worry!"
However, Mitsuo made another critical error. The edge of the cliff had become slick from the sudden rainfall. The older boy slipped on the grass, and the older men with him cried out as he slid off. Mitsuzi barely even registered as Mitsuo fell down on top of him, his momentum carrying on as they plummeted into the shallow drink below, after a several meter fall.
Some minutes later, the men would reached the bottom, desperately searching for the two boys. When they found the two of them, clutching each other and shaking in fear on the bank of the river, mostly unhurt, they were baffled. The fall alone into the shallow drink would have killed most, let alone with the force of the waterfall, increased by the rain.
But that was the miracle: the water level of the once shallow pool below had risen ever so slightly due to the rain, and the boys had landed in a part just deep enough to catch them without harming them, without them getting caught under the gushing torrent from above. Then, that very same torrent, pushing against the pool, had shoved them away. The men of the village couldn't deduce that fact, and concluded that the local river god himself had caught them, and delivered them to safety.
"What star were you two born under?" one of the men muttered in awe as he came across the children.
While the story was mostly forgotten by Ichijou Mitsuzi, it would be passed along through the village, in particular, to one of the wiser men there, who in less than a decade, would be employed by a new school called Hope's Peak Academy. As they scouted the first Class of obscenely Talented students, he would share the story of the two extraordinarily Lucky children. Coincidentally, Ichijou Mitsuo was in high school at the time, and was scouted. However, he did not accept the invitation, joining the military instead. Ichijou Mitsuzi's records remained, and when he became of age, it was decided that if he really was Lucky, it would show. A drawing was held, with the names of every high school student in the country submitted. And when Ichijou Mitsuzi's name came out, they had every reason to invite the boy so that they may study him and his ungodly Luck, forcing him to make the same choice that his brother had.
April 23rd, 1942
Near the same, small, mountain village, nearly fifteen years later, that four-year-old returned from a long year at a prestigious Academy, a bus dropping him off at a small stop by the road. Now twenty, Ichijou Mitsuzi stood tall, a bag of possessions slung over his shoulder, clad in his light blue yukata as always. As the bus drove away, Ichijou looked around at the nostalgic mountainside, glad to be back.
Knowing the region like the back of his hand, he trekked down the path, passing by the occasional home or farm plot as he made his way to his destination. On occasion, he'd wave or respond to one of the locals, who were greeted him heartily, the Luckster responding in turn.
Finally, after walking down a path parallel to a forest, he saw his home visible on the edge. He grinned as he saw a woman on the wooden walkway outside of the house, sweeping absent mindedly. Mitsuzi approached quietly, getting within a meter before greeting, "I'm home."
The woman, still only roughly at eye level to the boy, despite her elevated position, turned to Mitsuzi in surprise. Her hair was long, and black, and she wore a casual green kimono, patterned with bamboo. She dropped her broom, raising her arms for a moment, as if to embrace her son, before simply smiling, "Welcome back."
Unable to accept her hesitance, Mitsuzi dropped his bag, wrapping his arms around his mother. She smiled as he let go, looking her over again. She seemed to be getting smaller every year...
After picking up his bag, the two moved into the house together. Mitsuzi realized with a bit of worry, "Dad's here, huh?"
His mother nodded, before saying, "I don't think you need to worry about him this time..." Ichijou wasn't so sure: after completion of his first year at Hope's Peak, his father sent him a letter that he wouldn't allow him back in the house, so he stayed there. Last year, Ichijou received no such letter, so he dared to return home, but was chased out of the house and forced to return to school. This year, he dared to try again, if only to see his mother once again.
As they walked into the house, Ichijou's mother led him to a side room, the small family altar sitting against the wall, incense burning from two points flanking a portrait. Setting down his bag again, Ichijou kneeled in front of the altar, getting a look at the picture, two black strips of cloth over the corners. The black and white picture was that of a young man, dressed in army regalia. His hair was short, and black, and his smile was enthusiastic, yet confident.
Clapping his hands together, Mitsuzi gave a prayer to his older brother. He hadn't been able to do so in more than three years, having been barred from the house.
Ichijou Mitsuo fell in battle, several years after being admitted into the military. He was killed during the Japanese invasion of China in 1937, almost five years ago. Somehow, that only made their father's militaristic fervor worse. He demanded Mitsuzi go into the military, or be disowned, but Ichijou couldn't on sheer principle: he couldn't agree as his country engaged in offensive conflicts, no doubt doing horrible things in the process. Disgusted, he went against his father's wishes, going to Hope's Peak.
As Mitsuzi finished praying, his mother mused, "It seems like the whole world's going mad..." As Mitsuzi didn't reply, she asked, "What are you going to do now that you've graduated?"
Mitsuzi stood, stretching, before explaining, "I'm going to go to college. I've already taken some application exams, and I'm trying to decide which one to go to. I'll be fine if I can't stay though."
Ichijou's mother ran her hand down the side of her face gently in worry as she said, "I just pray the war doesn't reach the mainland..."
Trying to be reassuring, he said, "It'll be fine, I wouldn't worry." Of course, as his Class had occasionally discussed, a lot of that depended on how things escalated.
The woman smiled, before suggesting, "I'd love for you to stay until your results come in, but you really should see your father." Taking a breath, Mitsuzi nodded, grabbing his bag just in case, before stepping away.
Searching through his childhood home, he found his old man in the usual spot, sitting at the back of the house in his dark blue yukata on the walkway, smoking a long kiseru pipe, held in one hand. The other arm, however, was missing from the elbow down, the result of a training accident long ago. He seemed to tense a bit, but he didn't turn towards Mitsuzi.
Clearing his throat, Mitsuzi began, "Er, dad? I'm home."
The man set down his pipe, before replying gruffly, "I heard you."
Blinking, Mitsuzi explained, "I'm going to be here for a little while. I'm going to college when spring break ends though."
"Sure," came a grunt.
Ichijou scratched his head, a bit displeased with his father's attitude. As he began to walk away, the man demanded, "Hey, get over here."
A bit surprised, Mitsuzi carefully approached, standing behind his father. The man continued, "Sit down." He gestured to the spot next to him with the only hand he had. Letting out a sigh, Mitsuzi crossed his legs, taking a seat.
Ichijou's father muttered, "So, big shot, huh? Getting some higher education. What, the Peak not high enough for ya?" Mitsuzi frowned, not really wanting to stay if his father was just going to belittle him. He didn't give a response, so his father continued, "That's real nice. The world's going to hell in a hand basket and you're just trudging along as usual."
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Mitsuzi stood. His father grunted, "Don't you walk away from me!" Expecting the worst, Mitsuzi kept going, only stopping when he felt his father's strong grip around his wrist. Before he could offer a retort, the man pulled him down, Mitsuzi gasping as he was grappled. He avoided using the self-defense techniques he'd learned at Hope's Peak, considering them to be unsporting against a middle aged cripple.
However, he quickly realized that he wasn't being grappled: his father was doing his best to embrace him. He felt his father's face on his back, and after a moment, he could feel the wet warmth of tears. He admitted, "I'm glad. I'm glad you didn't listen to me. If you had, your portrait would probably be...right next to Mitsuo's..." Too surprised to speak, Mitsuzi said nothing as his father continued, "I didn't want to accept that my youngest was anything but a soft coward. I don't blame you, Mitsuzi, you'd have to be half the fool I was to go into the army these days, let alone with what happened to..."
Still stunned, Mitsuzi could hardly believe it. He had never seen his physically strong father so much as shed a tear, even when Mitsuo had died. He directed all his energy into his anger at the Chinese, or the bottle. To see him like this now...Ichijou felt like his worldview of his home life had been shattered. Speechless, he simply said, "It's okay, it's okay."
As the bonds in his family were slowly being repaired, Ichijou could only grow hopeful.
Ichijou Mitsuzi would later discover that the era was not fit for higher learning. Finding a university that did not push a nationalist, war friendly agenda was virtually impossible. For that matter, the coming years saw negative movements for schools, as high school students were drafted or otherwise made to work in the war industry, and Ichijou was only spared from that due to his connections to Hope's Peak. Regardless, bombings by the nation's foes in World War II also cause substantial of damage to property and lives. Ichijou never supported the war, but he supported life, doing what he could as he traveled the country, taking in the history of his nation firsthand, helping troubled areas where he could, the man's education and skills being exceedingly helpful. Whenever he got into a dangerous, unlikely situation, such as being caught in a firebombing, he always pulled through somehow, in some equally unlikely way.
During the post-war period, during American occupation, Ichijou would finally marry the childhood friend he was betrothed to, siring one daughter. To support his family, he would enroll in Jiyuu University, one of the first new schools to be built. He studied psychology, being particularly interested in the human mentality of optimism and expectations: in other words, Hope.
'Sleuth'
April 7th, 1963
Orientation: a simple ceremony, in which the class of starting students were told what to expect in their coming years of education.
That is what Kagari Kasumi repeated to herself in her head as she sat in her chair, wearing a dark blue, knee length skirt, long white socks, and a white dress shirt underneath a dark red blazer. It was her closest approximation to Jiyuu University's uniform she could find. The young girl briefly ran her fingers down her pale purple hair, looking around at the other students in their red coats and blue slacks as the staff gave all sorts of bland speeches.
Oh, right, that's why she was nervous. It felt like a quarter of the students were glancing in her direction every so often, or muttering something to the person next to him.
She couldn't blame them: she was the only female in the entire room. Normally her nerves were iron, but this... Even so, it was her choice to be here. Being accepted as the first female student in the prestigious Jiyuu University was something she could not turn down. It was high on her list of schools she desired, though not quite the top. She was just glad it was a real, genuine University.
As the orientation concluded, the crowd of students began to scatter, having the rest of the day to themselves. It was quite a pain to have to dress up in uniform for an hour or two. Still, it was a chance to familiarize oneself with the school grounds, find your classes, introduce yourself to teachers and fellow classmates. Of course, while some students might opt out on that, Kagari certainly wouldn't: she'd worked hard to get here, and now, all eyes were on her...figuratively. Literally that was only partly right.
As the students began to mull about the building, Kagari had a sudden desire to get a moment alone. A bathroom would have been fine, but there was a bit of an issue: there were no female bathrooms here. Well, not specifically: she could probably use them if she so desired, but she certainly preferred her privacy.
Luckily, she was in the sole possession of a dorm room. In fact, it was too large for her alone: the library here made it pointless to stockpile her books, and she left most of hers at home. She didn't have a lot in the way of possessions either, by own choice. Reaching her room, she stepped in, finding the room to be quite plain. That was normal, as she hadn't been here before, but knowing herself, it wasn't going to change very much.
Kagari loitered, taking a brief rest, before looking at her schedule: Criminology, Psychology, and English were her main subjects, with some Physics and Math on the side for good measure. Someone who looked at it would likely have a good idea of her ambitions; her childhood dream. Most girls dreamed of little more than a quiet life as a mother, but Kagari believed she must have been dropped on her head, and landed on a magnifying glass or a file of unsolved cases, because she wanted nothing more than to become a detective. However, women were rare in the police force as it was, and detectives either needed to prove their worth on the force or get an education, and this seemed like the path of least resistance. Even so, Kagari wasn't sure how she'd undertake that task, even when she finished her school. Time would tell, she imagined.
Getting up, she figured she should make her rounds: find her classes, meet her teachers. Heading outside, she took to the halls, a map in hand as she kept an eye out. She had a rather lackluster meeting with her Physics teacher, a sleepy looking holder of a Doctorate. Her English teacher was more interesting, at least, being a Japanese man who'd born in America, claiming to suffer some of the ill will towards his people during the war, yet was amused at the irony of working in a school partly funded by Americans.
As she traveled the halls in her search, she found herself stepping on something hard. Looking down, it appeared to be a small, wooden figurine of a fish. Relieved that it was not broken, she began to look around, curious as to where it came from. As she continued to scour the halls, she found no signs of evidence. It was such an odd object to find lying on the ground: she couldn't imagine it being in someone's hands normally.
On her way to the lost and found, she passed a trophy case, deciding to give it a look. There were a number of framed pictures among the trophies, and Kagari gave them a look. Narrowing her eyes, she couldn't help but grin as she saw what she was looking for: the fish figurine, on the outside of a fancy haori coat, one she'd seen at the orientation. Noting down the name, she asked the next faculty member she saw where she could find the teacher, and was pointed to a room that had been her next stop.
What were the chances?
Making her way down the hall, she reached the office of the Psychology teacher, the door already wide open. Peeking inside, she was surprised to see it empty. Curious about the man, she stepped in gently, mumbling, "Sorry to intrude..."
Looking around, it was well decorated with objects from all around the country, it seemed. On the back of the wall, behind a desk, in a frame was a diploma, the emblem known to Kagari. She was fascinated: this teacher was apparently a student of the 7th Class of Hope's Peak, and the first Luckster, no less. Unable to resist snooping, she grabbed a photograph from his desk, seeing a happy young man in a yukata posing with a somber one in a lab coat. Glancing over at a larger one, she saw the two boys with a number of other students: the rest of the 7th Class, no doubt. There was also a fair few with a woman and a young girl...family?
"Can I help you?" came a sudden voice, making Kagari jump. She replaced the photo quickly, before creaking around, turning to the door to see the man in the photo. He was slightly taller than her, and had a shaggy mane of black hair, the bangs nearly covering his eyes. He wore a dark black haori coat, a string tying it around his light gray yukata. Around his mouth was a thin, black goatee. He also wore a pair of geta sandals on his otherwise bare feet.
Kagari said quickly, "Er, I was just..." Her hand shot into her pocket, and she quickly withdrew the wooden figurine, handing it over as she finished, "Returning this." As the Professor took the figurine, looking at it in wonder, Kagari corrected herself, "Er, not just that, I mean...sensei."
With a smile, the Professor opened up his haori a bit, tying the figurine on a string dangling within. The man smiled, "I appreciate it! Thank you."
As he trailed off, Kagari introduced herself, "K-Kagari Kasumi."
The Professor smiled again, "Of course! How could I forget."
As he sat down, Kagari replied, remembering his name from the picture and her schedule, "Er, it's quite alright, Ichijou-sensei."
A hand on his furred chin in contemplation, Ichijou asked, "I wonder, how did you know it was mine?"
Kagari explained how she glimpsed it in the picture after passing the trophy case. Ichijou smiled, "Well, I'll be. That's some classy detective work there, Kagari."
"Th-thank you," Kagari responded sheepishly. Inwardly, however, she felt herself jumping for joy at the compliment. Looking at it again, she asked, "Er, what is it, if I may ask?"
Ichijou nodded, "It's worth roughly as much as all the furniture in this room combined."
Kagari's eyes widened at the small piece of wood, and the girl muttered, "Y-you can't be serious."
"Nah," Ichijou smiled, relieving the young girl. Her teacher explained, "It's just a little thing: one of the men from my village carved it when I was four or five. It's supposed to be our local river god." Scratching his chin again, he noted, "You know, it's quite lucky you found that, don't you think?"
Kagari smiled as she thought of his Talent, replying, "I suppose..."
Ichijou nodded, "Absolutely."
Kagari Kasumi would proceed to score top marks in Ichijou Mitsuzi's class during her time there, and her average grade in general was well above the average, setting a good example for those of her gender. Her early years in the University were fairly hectic, relatively, but as more girls began to get accepted, and Kagari continued to be known as being rather antisocial, she began to be largely ignored. It was rather strange that, even including her eventual roommate, her best friend at the University was her teacher, the two regularly engaging in deep discussions. Kagari came to know his experiences, and Ichijou came to know her ambitions...
September 20th, 1966
Once again, Kagari Kasumi found herself going from the familiar halls between her dorm room and the Psychology teacher's office. Their relation was quite known throughout the school, in the worst cases being cause for some concern as some speculated her high grades were the result of some unlawful activity between the two, but that was put to rest after she was made to take a test made by a teacher from another University. Apparently, after grading it, the teacher asked, 'May I have her in my class?'
As she reached the door, she remembered being told that during their normal discussions over tea and snacks, imported from all corners of the world, they would be joined by a rare guest. However, they were not there when she arrived, sitting down in her customary chair as she greeted, "Hello."
Pouring a cup of green tea, Ichijou explained, "Our guest should be with us shortly, he's probably running a little late. Knowing him, I should have suggested he come a little earlier than I did."
Kagari nodded as she casually took her drink, asking, "Is that so?"
Ichijou nodded, "He can be a bit scatterbrained at times, but when he focuses, he can be almost scary. He got me out of jam or two a few years back, and we've been in contact ever since."
Curious as to what kind of help a former Hope's Peak Student could need, Kagari asked, "What kind of jam?"
Ichijou nodded, "Eh, I guess I could say. I got some jellied cranberries in today, but they don't really go good with tea and crackers, unless you want to try it."
Kagari frowned, "Not that kind of jam." This sort of banter was quite normal between the two; Kagari knew full well she was just being messed with.
Before the conversation could progress, there was a knock at the door. Ichijou stood, going to meet the guest, Kagari sipping at her drink in anticipation.
Ichijou opened the door, allowing a man to enter. He was quite tall: a bit more so than Ichijou. He had firm, purple eyes under bushy eyebrows and behind square, wire frames and his short, dark purple hair poked up a bit in at the top of his head. He was dressed in a black suit, with a purple dress shirt, a few buttons of the black suit coat open to reveal it. Kagari couldn't help but notice he was roughly her age, and wore a pair of leather black gloves.
Gesturing between the two, Ichijou introduced them: "Kagari-chan, this is my acquaintance, Kirigiri Fuhito. Kirigiri-san, this is my star pupil, Kagari Kasumi."
Trying not to blush at the compliment, Kagari stood, bowing lightly, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Kirigiri-san."
Kirigiri inclined his head lightly, replying curtly, "Likewise." He looked away, not seeming like a particularly personable...person. However, his nonchalant greeting put Kagari at ease, and she returned to her seat. Ichijou offered Kirigiri a drink as he sat down in the other chair, and the man took a single sip, before leaving the cup on the desk.
As they relaxed, Ichijou began, "Well, as for why I invited you, I was curious about if you were interested in acquiring an assistant?"
Raising an eyebrow, Kirigiri shook his head, "Not particularly."
Ichijou let out a low sigh, nodding, "I see; that's a shame. You see, not only is Kagari-chan here at the top of my class, she is also doing very well in her other subjects: English, Criminology. Even her Physics and Math!" Kagari didn't respond, but she had no idea how it was relevant.
Kirigiri simply nodded in disinterest, mumbling, "I see..."
As Kagari took another sip of tea, Ichijou turned to her, explaining, "You see; Kirigiri Fuhito-san here is a member of the secretive Kirigiri Family, whom dedicate themselves to truth, solving the unsolvable cases the world over." Kagari sputtered on her tea, splashing a bit onto her blue skirt. Putting her cup down, Ichijou passed her a hand towel, no doubt prepared for this occasion. Kagari grumbled mentally at the crafty old... She really should have braced herself better; he did it all the time. But when her thoughts settled, the idea of a detective began to tantalize her. She began to steal glances at Kirigiri more often, being intrigued about his work.
Ichijou explained further, "Kagari-chan here has dreams of becoming a detective, so I'd been wondering if you'd be able to help out."
Kagari stammered, "I-it's really no big deal, I'm sure I'll manage."
Kirigiri shrugged, "You cannot simply join the Kirigiri Family, you know."
Ichijou gave a sly smile as he nodded, "Right, right, silly me. But still, it wouldn't be impossible for you to give her a few tips, would it? Even some on the job experience."
Kirigiri sighed, "Impossible? No. Unlikely? Yes."
This time, as she was denied, Kagari felt her determination bubbling within her. Keeping her cool, she said to Ichijou, "Well, it's not as if he could teach me much anyway. After all, given that he is no student of yours, I imagine he's lacking in certain areas."
As Kirigiri shot her a hard look, Ichijou grinned, "Exactly my thought."
Crossing his arms over his chest, Kirigiri grumbled, "I suppose bringing her along on one or two investigations wouldn't hurt..."
Inwardly, Kagari pumped her fist at the success, but outwardly, she only said, "I suppose we'll see if it's all it's cracked up to be."
The rest of the day was spent chatting, the atmosphere more relaxed as times dates were decided, Kirigiri needing to allocate his schedule to apply for Kagari's schooling. Kirigiri also shared some of his method, explaining how he chose cases that he wasn't assigned, even sharing a story of a more recent one. Despite herself, Kagari became enthralled by his tale, and the following evenings before her first day as his assistant would be spent in sleepless anticipation.
Kagari's one or two investigations quickly became three and four, then five, and so on. Their relation as detective and assistant remained as they tackled cases, Kirigiri's expertise with forensics complimented heavily by Kagari's relatively superior social skills and psychology knowledge. However, one particular case would put the two in more danger than ever before, and the outcome would change their lives forever...
November 7th, 1971
As the sun began to fall from the sky, partially obscured by the haze in the district of Ikebukuro, Tokyo; Kagari Kasumi walked by the busy Sunday streets with a clear purpose. The young woman turned heads as she walked, her outfit a bit more daring than usual: she wore a white dress shirt and a red tie underneath a black bodice and a short black skirt, and her legs were covered by a pair of long, black leggings, except for a few centimeters between the legging and the hem of her skirt. Her feet were garbed in black heels, her hands in leather gloves, and her blue eyes were covered in sunglasses despite the setting sun.
Slipping through an alleyway, she came out the other side, waiting at the corner, her eyes glancing down the pathway, looking out for anyone tailing. Luckily, she seemed to be in the clear. Moving on, she arrived at a tall building. Checking her watch, she entered, taking off her sunglasses as she walked up to the reception desk, nodding to the on duty receptionist, as relaxed looking woman. Kagari began, "Katsuragi Konata: I'm here for a meeting."
The receptionist looked down at some paperwork, before nodding, pointing, "Buratei-sama will see you on the top floor. When you arrive, please go directly to the office at the end of hall, Katsuragi-sama."
Looking around, Kagari nodded, "Understood." Without hesitation, Kagari made her way to the elevator, hitting the button and beginning the ascent. After a few minutes, the contraption came to a stop, opening up into a long hallway, the yellow lighting making the clean walls look regal. Heels clacking against the carpet, Kagari made her way to the door, knocking firmly. In moments, the door clicked, and she dared to open it. Kagari leaned in, seeing the white carpeted office, the desk in the center flanked by two more black suits, one with short black hair sticking up a bit and a scar, the other with a ponytail. In the center was a man in a white suit, his brutish frame fitting the well-tailored suit surprisingly well. His head was shaved, a piece of his lip was missing, like a mob boss strait from film, the nameplate reading 'Buratei'.
Gesturing to the lone chair in front of him, Buratei said, "Well, I've been expecting you. Don't be shy, go ahead and sit, Katsuragi-san."
'Katsuragi' looked at the chair before muttering sheepishly, "Er, I don't mean to be a bother but...could I use the bathroom."
Buratei gave her a tired look as the bodyguard with the ponytail snickered. The bald man spat at him, "You, shut it." Turning to his other guard, he said, "You, take care of her." Buratei caressed his forehead as the scarred, short haired man came to the door, guiding Kagari out, moving a short way down the hall into the bathroom. Kagari entered, and didn't react as he followed her into the ladies room. As she moved into a stall, he stood in front of it, waiting.
Leaning down Kagari looked underneath the stalls, finding that they were alone. She sighed, "Well, step one complete." She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small cassette recorder, handing it to the bodyguard.
Kirigiri Fuhito, his hair dyed, makeup applied to imitate a scar, contacts replacing his usual lenses, replied, "You look...nice."
Catching the sarcasm, Kagari insisted, "A friend of mine picked it out for me." That much was true; she was referring to her roommate at the University, an underclassman.
As she sat, biding a little time, she went over a few details in her head. The two were currently working on their most involved case yet. Buratei, known yakuza associate, and CEO of a trading corporation, had been recently indicted for a long list of crimes, but mysteriously, the charges seemed to vanish overnight. Their client, a rival of Buratei's, had suffered, and hired the Kirigiri family to find the truth of the matter. The work gone into it so far was staggering, and now they were almost there. Kagari had crafted a résumé, while Ichijou Mitsuzi pulled a few strings for references, landing the disguised Kirigiri the job, and the vital information within. Their plan was simple: now that Kagari had smuggled the relatively new bodyguard the recorder, they might be able to get an incriminating comment from Buratei, and put the case under wraps. Kirigiri had already heard quite a bit from his work thus far, but he had signed a contract stating he would not reveal anything, making any testimony he could offer invalid, disguise or not. Being searched every day meant he couldn't get any bug through either, so this was the simple and clean solution they'd come up with.
After a suitable period of time for a female bathroom break, they returned to the office, Kagari finally sat in the chair as Kirigiri stood next to Buratei, the cassette recorder no doubt running silently.
Looking over the woman and her risqué garb, Buratei began, "So, what's this about? You had my attention at 'case file'. I already know full well you're investigating me, Katsuragi."
Kagari replied, "I have no idea what you're talking about. A new case file created on you after the mysterious disappearance of the last one, filled with reports of smuggling, extortion, racketeering? ...Well, of course, we aren't discussing it, but if we were, I'm sure some less than savory investigators would fork it over and destroy all other copies for a sizable reward."
Buratei snorted, "Really now? How else could someone claim to get ahold of something that likely doesn't even exist?"
Kagari looked aside in mock nervousness, before saying, "I'd still be will to strike a deal..."
Buratei leaned back in his chair, muttering, "I already told you I wouldn't deal with you unless you had the file, and for some reason..." He looked up and down Kagari again, before chortling, "I don't think you have it at the moment."
Kagari began, "I would want an offer first. I...someone willing to strike a deal would be putting themselves through a lot of risk."
Buratei snorted, "Even if you are telling the truth, if you're trying to sell me my case file, I'd imagine whatever investigation you have isn't going well. In other words, I have no reason to worry."
Kagari nodded, responding sarcastically, "Ah, yes, shutting it down twice might result in suspicion."
Buratei glared, "Stop wasting my time or get out of my sight." With a slight nod, Kagari stood, turning to leave. Without a stutter in her step, she took her leave.
After the door was closed and the woman gone, Buratei grumbled, "...She gave up too easily."
The ponytailed bodyguard scoffed, "Yer paranoid, boss."
"She walked away like she didn't care...have someone grab her, I want answers, something isn't right," Buratei grumbled, caressing his forehead.
At his suggestion, Kirigiri tensed, before replying, "Y-yes sir." Blinking, Buratei looked over at the bodyguard with a raised eyebrow.
As the elevator reached the bottom, Kagari began to leave, when the receptionist called out, "Er, Katsuragi-sama! B-Buratei-sama would like to see you again. He says he's reconsidered. He's sending someone to guide you back up, if you'd like."
Kagari stopped: she immediately knew something was wrong. With a nod, she turned, heading back to the elevator. Watching the lights as the elevator finish its ascent, then began a descent, Kagari started to get tense. Sure enough, the door opened, two men standing there in black suits, one with untied, long hair, and another looking quite large. Swallowing, Kagari stepped into the elevator, facing the door as it closed.
As the elevator began to rise, she closed her eyes, listening carefully. She heard one transfer weight from one foot to another, and the other crack his knuckles.
Then she heard one of them take a step.
Kagari made her move.
Putting all of her weight on one foot, she kicked her leg back, the heel smashing into the jaw of the long haired man, sending him reeling backwards, his head crashing into the side of the elevator. Stepping back down, she turned and crouched as the larger one moved towards her. Springing up, she transferred the energy to one leg, which kicked at his groin, his stance too wide to do anything about it. As she hit his family jewels, he gasped out in pain, his charge being stopped handily. Stepping back, she hit a button on the door with her elbow, and the elevator stopping halfway to the top. However, the door opened almost immediately into an empty hallway, and the girl turned, breaking into a run, escaping before either of the two men could recover. Despite being trained by both Ichijou Mitsuzi and Kirigiri Fuhito in some self-defense, at the end of the day, Kagari Kasumi was still a normal woman, and those two were still much bigger than her.
Going down an unfamiliar hall, she looked around, before finding a stairwell. However, she was at a something of a complete loss: deep in enemy territory, little idea of where to go. But she couldn't just leave: if Buratei had somehow figured out Kirigiri...she would never be able to forgive herself for leaving him. Trying to think of where he might be in the worst case scenario, she began to descend. Worse yet, she knew she was being watched: security cameras were everywhere, so it was only a matter of time before she was intercepted.
Several minutes after her conflict in the elevator, a security guard in his work room watched the monitors, following her as she descended, a few guards coming down from above, and another handful waiting below to trap Katsuragi as she tried to escape.
As the security guard watched her, reporting her position through the communications device, he felt it was like a countdown. "Fifteen...fourteen...thirteen..." he said calmly.
"Six-no wait, seven. She stopped?" the guard gasped as he watched her inexplicable change in direction, as she headed to the hallway on that floor. However, it was useless: the elevator would still be occupied no matter what, and that stairwell as the only other way down.
The guard felt his heart sink as she went towards a small handle on the wall, pulling the fire alarm. He looked on, speechless, as she reached into her pocket, withdrawing a pair of sunglasses, donning them before smiling at him smugly through the security camera.
Over the comms devices, Buratei shouted, "Oh you have got to be goddamn kidding me!"
"Sh-should I turn if off sir? Claim it was a malfunction?" the guard suggested.
Buratei grumbled, "Of course not! We just had a fire inspection three days ago! How could she have known that? Oh, right, it was you, huh? You stupid little..." There were sounds of fists against flesh over the comms devices, making the guard frown. Buratei said, "She's on the seventh floor! Just hurry up and get her!"
The security guard watched as guards swarmed the stairwell, Buratei in the elevator with his two guards, one of them slumped against the back wall on the ground. As everyone moved, he searched for the woman on the monitors, before hissing outside of his device, "Huh? Where'd she go?"
Hearing a footstep behind him, he realized in horror that the security room was already on the seventh floor. His final thought for the evening was quelled when a red fire extinguisher slammed into the back of his head, laying him out on the panel in front of him.
Ten minutes later, Buratei shouted over his earpiece from a dingy, underground room, "What do you mean she vanished!?"
"The security system was taken down sir..." a voice responded.
Buratei shook his head, throwing his earpiece down in frustration. Turning to the other person in chamber, he looked at Kirigiri Fuhito, the detective bruised and bloodied, his wrists bound in handcuffs, binding him to a thick pipe. Helplessly, he shouted, "Where is she?"
Kirigiri coughed, "I have no clue: none of this is to plan."
"Bullcrap! She knew where the security room was, the fire inspection..." Buratei roared.
Kirigiri insisted, "Coincidences." Gritting his teeth, Buratei sank his fist in the man's stomach again, making him choke on his spit.
Kicking the cassette recorder on the ground aside, he shouted, "And what the hell did you think you were gonna do with that, huh? I ain't done nothin' wrong! Nothin'!"
Kirigiri noted, "Your accent is slipping." Buratei responded with another fist.
Holding Kirigiri by his dyed hair, he drew a knife, stating, "You don't get it, do you? I've got this whole buildin' in my palm. I could kill you right here, and no one would ever know until they found you in a body bag six feet under cement!"
"The recorder might still be running, you know," Kagari's voice suddenly rang out.
Gagging on his spit, Buratei turned to see the girl in the doorway, a pistol in her hands, snatched from an unconscious guard. She aimed it at the bald thug, stating, "That should be more than enough. Stand down."
Buratei glanced down at the earpiece on the ground, but Kagari moved her gun down, firing, a bullet shattering it. Recoiling from the debris, Buratei shouted, "How…how the hell did you find me!?"
Kagari took a step closer, explaining, "I saw you on the monitor, before I dismantled the system."
Buratei shook his head, wondering, "And you got through my guards!? I had the elevator watched!"
Kagari explained, "Your guards were in too much of a hurry to search so thoroughly. I slipped by them, is all. Perhaps you shouldn't have yelled at them to rush?" Face contorting between disbelief and rage, Buratei stammered in fury.
In one last desperate move, Buratei ran towards the recorder, to dispose of the evidence. Kagari raised her gun and fired, her shot going high. In an attempt to dodge the bullet that wasn't for him, Buratei stumbled, landing painfully on his knee. As he began to stand, his leg buckled as his pained knee slowed him. Kagari moved in raising her leg and striking him across the face just as he began to momentum. He staggered, and she continued to assault the stunned man, grabbing him as he tried to run, redirecting him into a wall, where he crashed, falling down, and lying still.
Catching her breath, Kagari turned off the recorder, before turning to Kirigiri, who asked, "What are you doing!? You should have left me. There's no way we have any usable evidence now."
Kagari smirked, reaching into her bodice, withdrawing yet another cassette tape, this one larger than the other. She began, "Here, I have video footage of your unlawful kidnapping, and the unjust assault I suffered at the hands of his men." With a sly smile, she winked, "Thank you for giving me the location of the security room."
Rattling his handcuffs, Kirigiri ordered, "Well, good then, now we just need to get out of here with the tapes. He has the key: uncuff me before help arrives!"
Taking a few steps over, Kagari insisted, "Don't worry: they're still tearing apart the seventh floor, I imagine. We'll be fine as long as we don't touch the elevator, and the fire department and police should be here shortly."
Getting closer to Kirigiri, he only blinked in confusion as she got as close as possible, pressing her slender body against his. She moved her face close to his, and he felt her breath on his neck. Starting to get a bit hot under the collar, he asked, "What are you-"
His words were interrupted as her lips met his, the girl stepping on the tips of her toes to make it happen. Kirigiri didn't respond, too surprised to break away.
When Kagari finally did, she wiped her lip gently, looking away sheepishly as she shared, "Testing something: I was studying misattribution of arousal the other day and..."
Flustered, his heart racing, Kirigiri stammered, "Hey, just f-find the key already..."
January 16th, 1972
Standing quietly in front of a large bathroom mirror, Kagari Kasumi's arms were spread out on the sink clean, public sink of a civil services office. The girl sweated as she looked over herself: her pale face, her black blazer, white dress shirt, purple tie, and dark purple, and knee length skirt being worn.
Caressing her stomach, she knew full well the cause of her nausea and lower abdominal pain. 'Morning sickness' was another term for some of her symptoms. Wiping her forehead, she tried to get a grip on herself. Today was an important day after all.
This was the day her marriage forms would be filled out, and her name changed the one she'd wanted deep down ever since she first met the man known as 'Kirigiri'. She hadn't fallen in love with the man at first sight, hardly. Rather, it was his history that had stirred her on, and as it so turned out, well... She'd liked him some time before the incident during the Buratei case, but Fuhito was no romantic. She had to be forward with him, and needless to say, she finally succeeded. There hadn't been a wedding ceremony: they didn't have too many people to invite anyway. Kagari's family was small and Kirigiri's was rather detached and secretive.
As she tried to recover, the door opened, a voice calling, "Are you alright, Kagari-chan?"
Kasumi blinked as Ichijou Mitsuzi entered nonchalantly, the woman hissing, "Don't just barge in here!"
Ichijou froze as the door closed behind him, his beard slightly longer than it had been on the day they first met. Kagari regretted her outburst, but she also felt like she couldn't help it as much as she'd like. He was only here to lend support, alongside her own parents, who knew nothing of the name Kirigiri. Fuhito's parents were not here, however, which only seemed to add to the mysteriousness of his family in Kagari's mind.
Kasumi apologized, "I...know you're just trying to help, but..."
Ichijou nodded, "It's a big day for you, and it can't be easy, given that you're..."
Kagari's heart froze, and she sputtered, "I'm what?"
Ichijou scratched the back of his head as he glanced down at her stomach, muttering, "Well, it's kind of obvious..."
Kagari shouted in disbelief, "I haven't told anyone yet!" Conscious, she placed a hand to her stomach, which was already firm, and would no doubt begin to swell in the coming weeks.
Ichijou chuckled, "How long did you think you think you could hide your pregnancy? You're marrying a detective." Kagari tried to offer a response, but her mouth only hung open for a few seconds before she closed it. Ichijou admitted, "Well, he hasn't figured it out yet, he's never been intimate with a woman before."
Kagari blinked, replying, "I'm aware of that bit. He's about as bright as a neutron star when it comes to forensics, but twice as dense as one when it's women." The two stared at each other for a moment, before breaking into smiles, Ichijou letting out a hearty laugh, and Kagari bursting into a fit of giggles.
Ichijou chuckled, "Be sure to give him the good news while he's drinking tea or the like."
Kagari snorted, "It's already in my mind. I learned from the best after all."
Ceasing his laughter, Ichijou watched as Kagari calmed down, tears in her eyes. Beaming with pride, he said, "I'm glad you invited me today, Kagari-chan."
Kagari insisted, "Well, it's only natural; you introduced us, after all."
Ichijou continued, "I'm glad for you, I really am. You fulfilled your ambition, and already done great things. You're the best student I've had yet." Kagari blushed slightly at the praise, but Ichijou continued, "You have a bright future ahead of you, I think. Fuhito may be quiet, but I know he wouldn't have spent so much time with you if he didn't care for you or appreciate the help."
With a nod, he finished, "And the next time I get a clever student at my door, I'll be more than equipped to deal with them, I think."
Wiping at her eyes, Kagari nodded, "Thank you, Ichijou-sensei."
With a nod, Ichijou turned to the door, insisting, "Now let's go: can't keep the groom waiting!" With a nod, Kagari smiled as she followed him through the door, onward to her new life under a new name.
July 27th, 1972
The gentle, repetitive beeping of the heart rate monitor resounded through the small hospital room. Lying on the bed in a white medical gown, her legs and lower torso covered by a sheet as she sat up, was Kirigiri Kasumi. Sitting next to her on a chair, his back straight and tense, in his normal work attire, was none other than Kirigiri Fuhito. His eyes watched a bundle in the woman's arms, a white blanket parted over a round, chubby face, with scraggly, uneven, dark purple hair, the several day old baby sleeping soundly. Kasumi sat with her eyes closed, resting serenely, no doubt enjoying the company of her husband, who'd been absent for the birth, which had been scheduled for the following week.
As she sat, Fuhito leaned closer to his child, gently raising his gloved hand, pulling back the blanket a little, showing more of the baby's head. One of her eye's creaking open, Kasumi asked, "Do you want to hold him?"
As if the baby were born of flame, Fuhito retracted his hand nervously, shaking his head, "I can't."
Kasumi frowned, readjusting her hold on the baby as she stated, "You're never going to hold your first child?"
Fuhito swallowed, before looking at his hands, stating, "These gloves...how much blood and bile have they touched? Not just of men, but of this world itself. This child is going to grow up in a harsh world..."
Kasumi insisted, "Then we should raise him properly, so that he can rise to the challenge."
Fuhito shuddered, "I'm not sure if I can..."
Kasumi sighed, "Isn't it a little late to be having regrets?" Stretching out her free arm, she asked, "Give me your hand."
Reluctantly, Fuhito complied. Kasumi grabbed his glove by the middle finger, sliding it off. As she asked for his other, she began, "A detective's gloves are like a shield, protecting him, or her, from the world's 'blood and bile'. They must wear them, so that the hands underneath can remain pure." As she put down his black gloves, she insisted, "We too, must shield our child, keeping him pure, until he is ready. Now hold him."
With trembling hands Fuhito took the baby in his arms, Kasumi instructing, "Don't let his head move around too much, and hold him close to you." As he took his child with lightly shaking arms, the movement seemed to rouse the boy, and his purple eyes fluttered open.
Fuhito seemed to relax, noting, "His eyes are...sharp, I feel like he'll have good observation skills."
Kasumi smiled, "So he has your eyes." Fuhito briefly glanced up to his wife, having been so out of his right state of mind that he'd almost forgotten her soft blue eyes.
As Fuhito watched his son look about, the baby's face tightened, and he began to cry. As Fuhito panicked, Kasumi reached over, taking him back, before raising her sheet over him and one side of her torso. Fuhito stammered, "D-did I do something wrong!?"
Kasumi shook her head, replying, "He's just hungry, since he woke up." As the baby began to quiet down, Fuhito relaxed a little, wanting to hold him again. He was so light...
Remembering something, Fuhito asked, "What's his name?"
Kasumi gave him a hard look, noting, "Six months since I told you and this is the first time it comes up?" Fuhito gawked, before closing his mouth in shame.
It was true, he'd done what he could to not think about the baby, busying himself with work, even when Kasumi was no longer able, not talking much about it, except nodding at Kasumi's suggestions for their home to prepare for the arrival.
The truth was; he was afraid. It was all happening so fast: the marriage, a child, all in less than a year. He'd solved countless cases over the course of his life, tussled with dozens of criminals, stared down the barrel of a gun numerous times: but now he had been rendered mentally helpless by such a tiny being.
He hadn't realized how much Kasumi had grown to fill the gap he'd formed either. The books she'd read: the way she moved with such certainty, as if was her fifth child, not her first. He was feeling even more shameful, inadequate.
Even though he had no right, he had to step up, so he did so in the only way he could right now. "Jin."
Kasumi blinked, "Excuse me?"
"Kirigiri Jin," Fuhito elaborated.
Kasumi frowned, "I already chose..."
Suddenly apologetic, Fuhito asked, "Er, what was your idea?"
Kasumi blinked, before saying, apparently in complete seriousness, "Jun." Fuhito gaped, raising his hands helplessly, and the girl smiled at her joke, replying, "Jin is fine. I like it."
Replacing his gloves, Fuhito smiled, repeating, "Kirigiri Jin..."
Kirigiri Jin was raised by his parents to continue the Kirigiri Family tradition. However, despite Kasumi's knowledge in the care of young children, as Jin grew older and his needs became more complex, both Fuhito and Kasumi would have to give it their all with the boy, as every parent did, detective or not. Fuhito being declared head of the family certainly did not make things easier for them either.
Ultimately, though Jin solved his share of crimes, he did not share ambition as a detective. After siring a daughter and losing his wife, he would cut himself off from his family after an intense argument with Fuhito, focusing on his career at Hope's Peak Academy. His daughter, Kirigiri Kyouko, was raised by Kasumi and Fuhito, whose past experience allowed them to do better than before. Kyouko was rather Talented with detective work, and learning from some of the best no doubt tempered her, Fuhito sharing his skills in forensics while Kasumi taught her to control her emotions and use them to her advantage.
During the Worst Event, Kirigiri Fuhito would go missing. Kirigiri Jin was Executed by Enoshima Junko before she enacted the Game of Mutual Killing, in which Kirigiri Kyouko was a participant. Kirigiri Kasumi survived with the help of Future Foundation, the grandmother working alongside them to the best of her ability.
'Aeronaut'
May 5th, 1975
Why couldn't it just be simple?
That's the question as Ishihara Jouji, Super High School Level Superhero of Hope's Peak Academy's 40th Class, or Super High School Level Justice as he preferred, stood on a city street in the city of Yokohama, holding a sheet of paper in his hand, the red and blue lights of police cars around him illuminating the dark night.
The man was dressed in his hero costume, that of the legendary Gold Dragon, a few police officers standing by, watching him read the form. He was not being arrested: there were only so many because of the robbery he'd just thwarted, the criminals now safely in the back of a police vehicle.
The aged police chief frowned as Gold Dragon looked over his court summons. The man had no doubt been trying to get a hold of him for some time to deliver it, given the date it was written, list atop. He muttered deeply through his mask deeply in disbelief as it sank it, "Vigilantism, property damage...assault?"
The chief scratched his head awkwardly, replying, "Well, I guess you made someone mad. Look, I know that you've always had people's best interests at heart, and for years now! If I could do something about it, I would. I'm just passing it along." With a sigh, he suggested, "Look, the best you can do is try and find some witnesses to testify on your side, and a good lawyer."
With a shaky nod, Ishihara took a deep breath, before folding the summons, tucking into a pocket within his ivory vest. Crossing his arms, he began, "Ha ha ha! Thank you, I'm sure these things will work themselves out. I do not blame you, good sir. But I must be off. Stay well!"
With a two fingered salute, Gold Dragon turned quickly, his boots skidding against the ground, before rushing off. He leapt at a streetlight, using it like a gymnastics bar to vault himself up a story of a building, using his legs to kick against window panes like steps, reach the roof and heading out of sight in moments. Then, from the rooftop, he streaked across it, jumping over the next street. However, it was quite a distance to the next building, which was even higher by a story or two: no normal man could do it, no matter the running start.
But Ishihara Jouji wasn't normal, nor was his false designation as Super High School Level Aeronaut entirely misplaced. Just before he leapt, his arms latched to his red, twin-tailed cape, attaching small hooks on the cape to small loops in his glove. As he often had, he used the setup to glide to the next building, climbing it up and out of sight.
Walking out onto the roof, he took a seat by an air-conditioning unit in the relative darkness, lights filtering up from the city below. Reaching to his face, he ripped off his mask, revealing his face, his hazel eyes gazing into the sharp red ones of the mask.
Thinking back to the comics he'd been reading for years, since when had the heroes in those had to put up with this? Rarely were they looked down upon or criminalized for their actions without good reason. They were often symbols of Hope and Justice.
But he'd never heard of them being sued.
All he wanted to do was spread justice, save lives, and make the world a better place.
Why couldn't it just be simple?
Gold Dragon's trial would be highly publicized as those he'd supposedly wronged spoke out against him. After the pre-trial, however, the hero was swarmed with witnesses requesting to share their thoughts. The legal battle went on, defendants crying out injustice, pointing out the good he had done, while the prosecution cited the dangers, both to and of the hero.
As he was ruled guilty of property damage and vigilantism, sentenced to revealing his identity and paying a fine, there was something of a public outcry. The coming weeks saw a sharp incline in masked vigilantism: a bold statement against the ruling. But it would not last: the sharp increase in vigilantism was followed by a small handful of deaths: overconfident, untrained vigilantes being killed by the criminals they'd attempted to stop. Gold Dragon could not let it continue. He publicly unmasked himself, revealing his identity as a bill was passed, butting a hard ban on costumed antics (for the record, none of his Classmates, who had also graduated more than a year ago, were surprised in the least). Despite his supposed public support of keeping people from getting killed imitating him, as he joined the police force, butting heads against the corruption within, but the fighting on two fronts drained him, and he couldn't help but feel that he was becoming hollow.
Surgical Assistant
June 17th, 1984
"Well done today, Saruta-san. I can never get enough of watching you work."
With a smile, the legendary surgeon replied with a simple, "Thank you." Removing his bloody gloves and lowered the face mask of his protective surgical garb, looking down at the patient, whom had just survived an urgent heart surgery. The other surgeons were at work on the finishing touches, returning his bones and muscles to normal. As Saruta Bimaru glanced around the operating room, his peers being many years older than the 22-year-old Talent, he said, "Now, if you don't mind, it was supposed to be my day off..."
His junior, an assistant roughly thirty years old, nodded, "I think that was it: we couldn't have done it without you." A short distance away, the senior surgeon, wrinkles surrounding his hair and a face mask over his mouth, grumbled bitterly to himself, his words no doubt filled with quiet expletives.
Saruta said nothing, instead moving to the changing room, dressing himself in a light vest and a nice, blue shirt, and slacks, taking his bag and making his way out of the hospital, punching himself out of the clock before exiting, finding his car, a white, two door sedan, well under the means of a skilled surgeon such as himself. He was more than wealthy, but that was just the way he lived.
He deserved nothing more than average.
In spite of the fact that he saved so many lives, earned such respect from many of his colleagues, and had such deep pockets from various overtime surgeries in dire situations, he couldn't help but feel...empty.
His coworkers toasted to him often, exceedingly grateful he had come to this hospital after his schooling, not aware that he chose it for being distant from his hometown. Despite his tired, dark blue eyes and broad, flabby figure, he still had the eye of several nurses, if only for his youth and wealth.
But he had no ambition, just a sickening obsession, toned down by medication and regular visits to his therapist. He was unworthy of the pleasures of life, yet his bank account grew, and he had no desire to spend a single yen to improve his normal car and small apartment. He had no interest in glamour, and helping people was his job, thus donating to charity would not fulfill him. He had no friends, just a few friendly acquaintances from his time in the 46th Class of Hope's Peak Academy. He despised his family, who seemed to ignore his very existence, to no displeasure of Saruta's.
Despite being an alumna of the prestigious school, representative of Hope, he was a depressed soul.
As he drove through the city streets, he navigated a familiar path to an appointment he was already late for, hoping Asada would not be too frustrated about the course of things. Surely he would understand; the man seemed to enjoy Saruta's sessions, for whatever reason. Shamefully, Saruta had lied to him on more than one occasion about the extent and subject of his obsession, often taking his medication before such sessions, despite Asada asking him not too.
Arriving at the office, Saruta stepped inside, walking to his destination without a hint of hesitation, simply a casual nod to the receptionist, whom was already quite familiar with him. Knocking on the door, a familiar voice replied, "Come in! Come in!"
Saruta turned the doorknob, looking inside the office once again. There was a desk, and a number of chairs against the wall. One near a window was long, and comfortable, one that Saruta had leaned against many times. The opposite wall had a large window, the view beyond partly obscured by well-kept plants outside.
Asada, wearing a dress shirt and tie, his dark green hair cut short, smiled at Saruta softly, noting, "You're a little late. That's rare."
As Asada closed the door behind the surgeon, Saruta explained, "I was called in regarding some overtime. Open heart surgery: nothing some of the seniors couldn't handle. It was a bit of an overreaction, I fear they're becoming too reliant on me..."
Asada shrugged, "Being relied on is not such a bad thing. But come, let us talk. Would you like some tea?" The man didn't wait for an answer, knowing full well he would answer yes. But Saruta found solace in being predictable: it meant he was being normal.
Asada listened for the next hour or so as Saruta shared some recent events, dreams, worries, concerns. Then, Asada would offer some advice, of which Saruta would consider, though the wise words hadn't resulted in any major breakthroughs yet.
As they finished, Asada began to think on his words as Saruta rested on the long chair. After a short while, Asada began, "You know, I was thinking on some things you've told me a while back, and I think I found something rather telling." Saruta leaned his head over, watching as the therapist shuffled through his desk. He continued, "Three months ago, you recalled the story of seeing your first dead body: a corpse of a homeless man in an alleyway in your home town some years ago. During our last session, you also recalled the story of how you became a surgical assistant in the first place, in which a detective came to you for a witness, and took note of your passions."
"It bothered me a little, I think, because I did my research. I found an article citing the homeless man as the first victim of a string of serial killings, in which the victims had pieces of their skin stolen. Oddly enough, the autopsy reported his death as natural, rather than homicide, which made them wonder if it was an accident. Then, I requested some police files on the closed case, explaining it was for my therapy, and they gave me the name of the detective working on it. After contacting him-"
He was interrupted as Saruta sat up, a cold sweat having broken out as he shuddered, "You...you didn't."
Asada nodded, "I did."
Saruta's hands began to shake as he looked between the man and the door. Asada let out a sigh, insisting, "Did you think I would assume less of you? Do you even realize how much you've told me?"
Saruta mumbled bitterly, "Too much, it seems."
Asada shook his head, "You can't go on like this. Saving lives is admirable, but you seem to think of it as being average as starting your car in the mornings. You're already well aware of your condition: admitting it to yourself is the first step. The second is to admit it to others, and share your concerns. There would be few better to share too than myself, if I do say."
Getting up, Saruta began to pace about, on the verge of an anxiety attack. If this got out somehow, if his workplace knew, if the world knew...his reputation would never recover. He wanted to crawl into a hole like the vile rat he was and die.
Asada noted, "You seem to care much about your image for someone who's normally so lethargic."
Saruta stammered, "I...I...can't lose my job."
Asada shrugged, "Why not?" Saruta stopped his pacing, not wanting to admit that his work allowed him close contact with that he held his obsession for. Asada continued, "You've never harmed anyone, Saruta, and you've sworn an oath saying you would never do so."
Saruta shook his head, insisting, "No, it's wrong!"
Asada shrugged, "And?"
Saruta replied, "Society shuns abnormality."
Asada smiled, "Does it? Looking at you, I see the opposite."
Saruta froze, a swirl of emotions churning in his stomach as he admitted, "Perhaps..." It was a point he'd never considered: weren't his Classmates nothing but a bunch of oddballs? Was he so strange? Were the perhaps, worse maniacs among the alumni of Hope's Peak Academy? Not that the existence of someone worse made him better, but perhaps, if he were to find such a person, and learn from them things worse than that he hid about himself. Perhaps he could get some perspective.
Maybe there was some Hope after all.
After that session, Saruta began try and become a little worldlier, using his vacations to travel around the country, and eventually the world, interacting with those he felt might be able to relate to him. He always felt inadequate, never accepting his abhorrent obsession, but rather coming to terms with it. He never married, though he did have a few attempts with a small number of women, none of them quite panning out: a large step for him.
During the Worst Incident, Saruta's skills in medicine were valued highly, so he was able to last until Future Foundation rescued him. Since the beginning of the Incident, he's been working himself to the bone to save as many lives as he could.
And I'm not quite done! I have some notes here, mostly a bit of trivia on some things in these stories in this Part: pastebin(.com)/WvCx6T4r
And once again, thanks for reading!