Beneath the Hero's Mask

Chapter 14

The sunlight shining right into his face compelled Ren to open his eyes, even though he wanted to hold on to his precious time of rest. He tucked his head underneath the duvet so as to shield himself from the annoying source of light and carry on with his slumber uninterrupted, but he was still unable fall back asleep, for the loud sound of wind blowing suddenly filled the room.

"Did I leave the window open?"

He conceded the fight and resigned himself to getting up to close the window, but when Ren popped his head outside the covers he saw no window had been left open–in fact, there was no window at all.

The roof, walls and all the furniture inside the room had banished; Ren found himself surrounded by open sky with colours of twilight. He hesitantly stood up from his bed and treaded towards the edge of the room, not ready for what he would see. He wasn't in the orphanage anymore–he was now standing on the top floor of a building so tall it raised above the clouds, and below his feet laid the undisturbed cityscape of Tokyo. He wasn't usually afraid of heights, but the disorientation caused by the unknown surroundings induced a vertigo attack on him. He stumbled backwards and fell flat on his butt.

He quickly recovered from the fall, rubbed a hand on his lower back and then poked his head over the edge once more to double check he was not imagining things. Indeed, beyond the bedroom he saw tower blocks and skyscrapers; concrete and asphalt extended as far as the eye could see.

"Whoa! This is the most vivid dream ever…"

All of a sudden, he heard the delicate flutter of a butterfly's wings. He looked up and saw a blue butterfly hovering over him. Mesmerised by its beauty, he reached with a hand to touch it, but the butterfly backed away and flew down the staircase on the other corner of the room, leaving a glimmering trail on its path. For a moment, Ren stood uncertain of what to do; he couldn't put his finger on what it was, but he felt as if the butterfly was beckoning for him.

He ultimately shrugged. "Might as well… This is all just a dream anyway."

Without thinking twice, on he went after the mysterious butterfly. As he descended the staircase, Ren realised it spiralled downwards around the spire and had no end in sight. He was unsure of how long he had been walking down the steps, but he didn't think much of it as it was common knowledge that time perception was heavily altered while dreaming. Eventually he did reach the end of the stairway, where he was met by a gate leading outside the building. Without hesitation, Ren exited.

He blinked a few times to adjust his pupils to the exterior light, then he observed his surrounding and recognised his current location right away; it was the Scramble Crossing outside the Shibuya station. As a life-long Tokyoite, Ren had been at the famous intersection multiple times before, but never in any of his many visits had he seen the crossing in this state–completely devoid of people.

Having lost track of the blue butterfly, Ren opted for venturing deeper into the city and began walking towards Central Street. He strolled down the street, sighting numerous places he was well acquainted with–the bookstore, the beef bowl shop, the diner… all of them he had seen multiple times before, and yet they somehow felt oddly unfamiliar. The atmosphere was heavy with an uncanny feeling, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

As he passed the diner, the unexpected sound of scraping metal and a soft mewling caught his attention, coming from the adjacent alley. Ren's curiosity got the best of him, so he veered to the left into the side-street. It wasn't hard to ascertain the source of the noise; it came from a trashcan in the alley. Ren looked at it with mirth; he figured a cat had probably trapped himself in while attempting to scavenge for fish leftovers or something of the sort. He approached the bin and took off the lid, only to encounter a creature that was most certainly not a cat.

From between the waste popped up a stubby humanoid with snow white complexion, and a roly-poly silhouette.

"Hee-ho!" called the peculiar being.

The boy took a step backwards in surprise, but he kept his eyes fixated on the creature; he squinted as its image evoked a distant memory in his mind. "Hey, I've seen you before…"

He had trouble placing it at first, but its wide smile and clownlike blue garments were unmistakable.

"You're Jack Frost!" Ren said when he finally recognised the children's mascot.

"Hee-ho?"

"Come here, little guy."

He cautiously stretched out a hand to pet the little snowman. Jack Frost tilted its head to the side and analysed it with inquisitive eyes for a few seconds, before promptly sinking its teeth into it. Ren cried out in pain and staggered away from the trash can while gripping his injured hand. He looked down at his palm and saw there was a small amount of blood, as well as a very pronounced bite mark. He ran a finger through the open wound and instantly flinched.

As he mentally cursed Jack Frost for biting him, he came to a realisation–the blood dripping from his palm, the sting on his skin–it was genuine, unadulterated pain, the type that cannot be replicated in dream. The uncanny sensation that had been troubling him grew into a terror that slowly crept up his spine. There was something very, very wrong with this.

He hurriedly fled the alley, but stopped dead in his tracks upon facing the scene that had taken over Central Street. His previous scream had attracted the attention of other creatures lurking in the dark. Monstrous figures emerged from the side streets and storefronts. A sphere of featureless faces, an amorphous blob of black ooze, and a phallic kraken mounted on a chariot… The procession of eldritch fiends and beasts marched through Shibuya like a hellish parade.

Fearing for his life, Ren ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction, back to the station square. When he arrived, he was relieved to see the coast was clear. Once he was out of imminent danger, he collapsed with his back against the Buchiko statue.

"This isn't real, I'm just dreaming. I have to wake up." He said as he hit himself on the head. "Come on, wake up!"

"You are dreaming, but it does not make this any less real." A voice cut in from behind him.

Ren jolted back upright and turned to face the uninvited interlocutor. Before him stood a large demon straight out of his worst nightmares. A red suit covered its long limbs that ended in pointed claws, imposing obsidian wings adorned its back, and a towering top hat made it seem much bigger than it already was.

The boy propped up his arm to avert his gaze, and prayed to every god he could think of anticipating his certain demise at the hands of the crimson devil, but instead, the demon simply burst into laughter. Confused, Ren dared to peek through his fingers and saw it having a hearty giggle at his expense. Despite being perhaps the most intimidating monster he had come across yet, it seemingly had no harmful intent towards him; only curious amusement.

"My my... you sure have strayed a long way from home." The creature said. "This is no place for a human."

Manny questions popped into his head, like it was able to talk or what its intentions were, but he focused on the last part of its statement.

"What do you mean? Where am I? What is this place?"

"Why, Tokyo of course."

"What? This is nothing like the Tokyo I know!"

"Clever one, aren't you? That's because it is not." The demon said. "You find yourself in a place that exists between dream and reality. Mind and Matter. A mirror image of your world, born from the human collective unconscious. Both worlds are closely interlinked, and at the same they are also widely isolated."

"How did I get here?"

"Believe me, no one wishes to know more than yours truly. Humans do not just casually wander into this cognitive plane everyday... No, you were brought here with a purpose. As for what that may be, remains to be seen."

Ren couldn't wrap his head around the situation; it just didn't make any sense. "This can't be happening… It's just not possible."

"Fret not, boy. I fully intend to help you find out what devices are behind your mysterious advent in this world."

"Why are you helping me?" Ren asked.

"Because I'm bored. There's not much to do around here; it was only natural a novel and eccentric character like you would pique my interest."

Ren couldn't help but laugh at that. It appeared as though his initial impression of the demon was off mark; he somehow felt an enigmatic kinship with it. "Just… what are you?"

"'What'? How awfully boorish. I have a name, for your information–many, in fact–Gentleman Thief, Pillager of Twilight, but you, my friend, may call me Arsène." The demon introduced himself with flair befitting of his outfit. "You know, it is customary to return the gesture when one introduces themselves to you."

"Sorry, my name is Ren, Ren Amamiya."

"Amamiya… where have I heard that name before?" Arsène put a finger to his chin, as if in deep thought. "I've got it! It could be a clue to unravel this riddle. Follow me, my companion. Our venturesome quest awaits."

Arsène marched towards the Ginza line without giving any further explanation nor looking back to ensure Ren followed. Although Ren didn't feel in danger anymore, he was still not entirely free of apprehension.

"I'm definitely going to regret this…" He thought before resigning to go after him.

Delving past the escalator to the underground, their arrival at the platform punctually coincided with that of a desolated train. Arsène ducked through the door to board the carriage and sat in the middle of the empty row of seats to accommodate his wingspan, wordlessly indicating Ren to do the same. The boy took a seat opposite to his new acquaintance, and the train departed Shibuya station.

Ren briefly wondered how the metro could be operating in this bizarre, human-less world, but as the train kept moving forward, a new thought pushed that question out his head. A weird familiarity hit him whilst riding the Ginza line, and his intuition told him there was only one possible destination.

"Why are you taking me there?"

"There is something you must to see." Was the answer Arsène gave him.

After just a few minutes, their train stopped at Aoyama-Itchome station and the unlikely pair walked the short stretch to Shujin Academy. Ren walked with a dithering step; he feared what might await him at the school. Eventually they reached the gate, and at the top of the stairs leading into the main entrance he saw a standing man. Ren halted his step to do a double take of his outfit, which consisted of nothing but a heart-patterned cape, a pink speedo, and a tawdry crown. As he got closer he discerned the stranger was monologuing, in a voice well known him.

"… those insolent rats that are Amamiya and Mishima have been dealt with at last…"

Ren climbed the stairs to meet Kamoshida, sceptical of what his eyes were seeing.

" and the Suzui situation has fixed itself as well. I was worried she might talk after waking up, but it looks like she's not going to make it. This will make things much easier."

"You bastard! How dare you say that after what you've done?"

Kamoshida did not react, and continued talking as if Ren wasn't even there.

"It pains me to be so severe, but those Imbeciles needed to be taught a lesson. They don't even realise it's all their own fault! That stupid girl resisted to the very end, that's why she jumped." He said. "When will they learn their place? I'm a cut above all other humans–I am the king!–and I always get what I want."

Hearing the absolute lack of remorse in his actions provoked a fury in Ren he didn't know he had. He clenched his fists, and red was all he could see. He took a swing at the teacher, but his punch did not connect; instead, he phased through Kamoshida's body, causing him to lose balance and fall. Behind him, the ghost of Kamoshida vanished into thin air. With his face still against the cold concrete, Ren slammed his fist against the ground, and his feeling of impotence turned to tears streaming down his face.

"What was that?" Ren asked as he stood back up after a while, still agitated.

"That was a Shadow, much like myself." Arsène explained. "It is the embodiment of your teacher's perception of himself. This realm is inhabited by beings created by the power of mankind's cognition. "

Ren rubbed his temple. The more he learned about this new world the less he understood it.

"Then how come I can't touch it or talk to it like I do with you?" He asked.

"Human-born Shadows are different from those that originate from the sea of souls."

"Human-born Shadows?"

"Most Shadows manifest from the grander collection of the collective unconscious; thoughts and ideas shared by every human. On the other hand, a few select Shadows arise from the deepest aspect of an individual's psyche. A representation of their true personality, and their most profound desires on a subconscious level. Every human has one… or at least so I thought, until now."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I am of course talking about you, Ren Amamiya… There is something different about you. You don't seem to have a shadow. None that I can sense, at least…" He trailed off before finishing the thought under his breath. "Interesting… Could he be the one I have been looking for?"

He started circling Ren, almost as if examining a lab specimen.

"Tell me, what grievances may that garish king have with you? He did not speak your name fondly."

"He took everything from me. He hurt the one's I love and I couldn't do anything about it."

"I see… You have been trapped in an unjust game. The deck is stacked against you, and you're chances of winning are none." Arsène made a brief pause, and then a wicked smile flashed in his face. "However, your opponent did not account for the presence of a wildcard."

Ren perked up and stared expectantly at the Gentleman Thief, feeling he was not done talking.

"I believe it is no mere coincidence that fate has brought us together, Ren Amamiya. I can feel it within you, the ardent spirit of rebellion longing be unchained." Arsène finally came to a stop directly in front of Ren and stared firmly at him.

"Nothing can be solved by restraining yourself. Who is going to avenge your friends if you don't? Don't you want to punish the evil that exploits the innocent?"

"More than anything."

"Are you ready to tread the path of strife? Are you willing to commit all sacrilegious acts for the sake of your own justice?"

"I'll do whatever it takes."

"Very well, then. Let us form a contract. If you so desire, I shall lend you my power to break through this crisis."

The Pillage of Twilight offered his hand. Ren drew a deep breath and took it.

The moment their hands touched, a piercing headache brought him to his knees, followed by a pressure in his face; surveying with his fingers he discerned the shape of a mask covering his eyes.

"I am thou, thou art I. Show the strength of thy will to ascertain all on thine own, though thou be chained to Hell itself!"

An unknown impulse compelled his hands to reach for the mask and pull. After some resistance the mask peeled off, and he felt warm blood trickle down his face. The pain intensified and propagated thorough his body; it was a surge of agony like he had never experienced before, but he endured. Along with the pain he felt something else–pure, invigorating power. In a flash, he found himself enwreathed by blue fire. The flames slowly climbed his frame, replacing his fear with resolve in its path.

The fire dissipated, and not only did Ren emerged unscathed, but reborn. He wore an outfit reminiscent of Arsène's. His now gloved hands were holding a pair of weapons–a matching pistol and dagger. Their weight felt comfortable in his palms, like something that had been missing was now in its right place.

Arsène laughed again sheer excitement. "That attire, those weapons, they comprise the armament worthy of a thief. Get back out there, young Rebel. Call upon my name to release your righteous rage and steal back your fate!"

Ren checked out his new equipment, and he smiled too. The helplessness he felt when he went to bed had been extinguished, and now, he was primed to fight back.

"… Amamiya's and Mishima's actions have created a hostile environment in this school and therefore I request they be expelled as soon as possible…"

Kamoshida was sitting alone at his dimly lit desk in Shujin's PE faculty office, well after dusk had settled and all students and staff had left for the day. With one hand he wrote in the petition he intended present during the next board meeting, in the other he held a half-empty bottle of shochu. He had been drinking more than usual lately. After the incident with Suzui, volleyball practice had been cancelled until further notice. Principal Kobayakawa ordered him to keep a low profile while the school was under scrutiny from the public eye; being put in a short leash frustrated him to no end, but it was fine–soon enough Amamiya would be gone and Takamaki would finally be his for the taking, he just needed a little patience. Speaking of which, Amamiya was conspicuously absent from class that morning… could he be up to something? No, he must have realised it was futile, in light of his imminent expulsion.

*Knock Knock*

The coach rotated in his chair to face the source of the noise. Who could it possibly be knocking on his door at this hour? Perhaps a janitor doing overtime.

*Knock Knock*

"For fuck's sake, I'm coming."

Irritated, he got off his seat and went over to the door prepared to chew out whoever dared disturb him.

"What the fuck do you–"

The words died in his mouth when he laid eyes on what expected him on the other side of the door. A demonic figure with a macabre smile loomed in front of him. His feet failed him, and the apparition made its move. A mere swipe of its claws was enough to launch him flying against his desk. Panicking, Kamoshida grasped the bottle of liquor on the table and brandished it as a weapon against his assailant, who was edging closer to him. He made a move to counter attack, but as he raised his arm, the glass bottle exploded in his hand.

From the hallway slowly walked in another figure. Not as tall, but just as fearsome. Clad in black, yellow eyes behind a domino mask, they came in wielding a smoking gun. For a moment, they simply observed him with an expressionless face, before aiming the barrel of the pistol directly at him.

The teacher sank to his knees and clasped his hands together. "Don't, please! Do you want money? Take anything you want, just please don't hurt me!" He pleaded.

"You're pathetic." The dark entity said. "You act so tough going after defenceless children, but the moment you meet someone who can fight back you grovel like a worm."

Kamoshida tried to bargain for leniency. "Just tell me what you want. I'm a man of influence; I'm sure we can reach an understanding–"

A backhanded slap interrupted him.

"No amount of riches or favours could bring penance to someone like you. I've seen the real you, Suguru, and you're rotten to the core."

"What are you talking about? Who are you?"

"I am your conscience, Suguru–and I'm here to show you the error of your ways…"

"Arsène."

On command, the Persona hoisted Kamoshida and from the floor and pinned him against the wall.

"All these years you've been tormenting the students you were supposed to protect, taking advantage of the weak. Acting like a tyrannical king, you sold your soul to satiate your lust and greed, but now the devil is here to collect. Your reign has come to an end."

"No, you don't get it. It's all their fault. The parents, the teachers–all those people forcing their expectations on me. I did it all for them. They all wanted to benefit from my success."

"Oh, is that so? poor little coach. It's so hard being you, isn't it?" He said in a derisive tone. "Do you feel trapped? Like the pressure it's getting too much? Wouldn't it be easier to just end it all?"

As Kamoshida was about to reply, his throat tightened, and airflow stopped. Arsène had wrapped his hand around him and began constricting, patiently forcing the air out of his lungs without letting any back in. In a matter of seconds, he became lightheaded and his vision blurred.

"P-please, stop… Don't do this…". The teacher forced the words out.

"Did you listen to those kids when they told you to stop? Did you listen when they begged you not to hurt them?"

Kamoshida's face was turning blue, and Ren knew that soon he would lose consciousness, and not long after, death would follow. As he watched the life gradually leave the teacher's body, he did not feel as he anticipated. There was no fulfilment of catharsis; the only thing he felt was pity for the man imploring for mercy. A part of him was urging him to desist, but he suppressed the notion. He couldn't stop now, he had to do this–how was it fair for scum like him to draw another breath when he had robbed that from Shiho?

"Shiho…"

She deserved vengeance; he was doing this for her, or so he told himself, but what would she say if she saw him like this. She was always the type to turn the other cheek, to always do the right thing even in the most excruciating circumstances. Ren realised he was failing Shiho once again, and felt sick to his stomach. He released Arsène's grip on Kamoshida, who collapsed on the floor and had a coughing fit as he regained respiration.

"Your life is not mine to take, it's not the justice your victims deserve."

Ren grabbed Kamoshida's mobile phone from the desk and handed it to the still struggling man.

"You are going to call the police and turn yourself in. You will confess every single one of your crime and spend the rest of your miserable life rotting in a cell." Whilst offering him the phone, he maintained his gun pointed with his other hand; the implication was clear. "If you don't, I will finish what I started."

Kamoshida did not stop to consider the alternative. Desperate to save his own life, he dialled 110.

"Hello?... My name is Suguru Kamoshida. I'm currently at Shujin Academy, where I work as a P.E. teacher and volleyball coach... I have a confession to make. For many years I have been abusing countless students. I want to turn myself in."

The two of them sat in silence until the screeching tires and flashing lights of patrol cars inundated the streets outside. Ren knew the police would enter the school via the main gate. He could climb the fence behind the practice building and escape undetected. He made his way to the exit, but stopped at the door of the room to take one last look at Kamoshida. The perpetrator of so much suffering, the untouchable overlord of Shujin had finally fallen from grace, and was nothing more than a pitiful, sobbing mess. Ren turned around and left, hoping he would never have to se Kamoshida's face again.

The following morning Ren overslept through his alarm, so he had to take the train after his usual one. He was definitely going to be late, but at least the trip wasn't as crowded. He spent his commute contemplating last night's events; he was still unsure whether it all had been a bad dream, until seeing the scene at Shujin Academy dispelled all doubts.

A combination of law enforcement, news reporters, and students lined the perimeter of the school. A group of teachers stood by the school gates attempting to hold back the media as they bombarded them with questions. In the meantime, Principal Kobayakawa talked with two police detectives.

From a distance he spotted Ann and Mishima, who were spectating the ruckus.

"Hi, Ren." Ann said.

"Hey." He returned the greeting. "What's going on?"

Mishima was quick to fill him in. "Apparently, coach Kamoshida was arrested last night. They say he confessed to everything. The police then came this morning to get statements from teachers and students about the abuse. Miss Kawakami came out just a minute ago to say classes are probably going to be cancelled today."

The three of them turned their eyes to a new commotion. The principal's conversation with the officers was getting heated, and after some unintelligible shouting, he ended up with his hands in cuffs and escorted into a police car.

Ann and Mishima's jaws dropped at the display.

"I can't believe this is real." Mishima said. "Just… how did this happen? Did Kamoshida suddenly grow a conscience? Someone must have made him do it."

"I don't really care how or why it happened; I'm just glad it's finally over and no one else will get hurt anymore." Ann said.

"Are you okay, Ann?" Ren asked.

"I am now." She said, finally feeling free to smile again. "Well, now that we have a free day. I'm going to see Shiho at the hospital. Wanna come with?"

"Of course."

Thereon, life quickly settled back into routine. The new Shujin administration had rushed to sweep the Kamoshida scandal under the rug and classes returned to normalcy. It all had been reduced to an uncomfortable footnote in the school's history. Ren and Ann kept paying periodic visits to Shiho at the hospital, but with no changes in her conditions, the hopes of her ever regaining consciousness dwindled every day.

The weeks passed by, and despite having accomplished his objective, Ren did not feel any semblance of satisfaction. On the contrary, his heart was heavy with a sentiment of desolation, emptiness that took over his daily life. He could not focus on his classes, he often lost appetite, and he had trouble sleeping.

It was well past midnight and Ren remained wide awake. He kept tossing and turning in bed trying to get some rest, but with no success. He laid on his side and stared blankly at the full moon through the window.

He did not want to admit it, but the truth was, Ren was aware of exactly what had been keeping him up at night all this time. Ever since Kamoshida's arrest, Ann's words had been carved into his memory, constantly replaying in his mind.

'I'm just glad it's finally over…'

'No one will get hurt anymore…'

If only that were true. A battle might have been won, but the war was far from over. Kamoshida was gone and unable to keep abusing his students, but there were still scores of people living in peril all over Japan. And just like him, those people couldn't rely on the police or heroes to save them. It was a hard pill to swallow, but some people were just dealt a bad hand by life, and they had no recourse do anything about it.

'Steal back your fate!'

That's what Arsène said to him during his awakening, when his flame rebellion had been ignited. He could still feel it burning. The inner unrest brought about an epiphany. This was the reason he had been given this power; to fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves–all the kids out there that were destined to end up like Shiho–he was too late to save her, but it was his duty to prevent others from suffering the same fate.

The prospect was daunting, but he had never been more certain of anything in his life. He jumped out of bed, changed into jeans and a hoodie, grabbed his messenger bag and stuffed it with essential items–spare socks, mobile phone, charger, and all the cash in his piggy bank, which didn't amount to more than 2000 yen.

Once he had everything packed, the reality of his decision dawned on him. He was planning to just pack up and leave. He doubted anyone at Kashiku would even notice his absence. The few members of the staff were all underpaid and overworked, and he was never close to any of the other children. He wouldn't be the first, nor the last orphan who ran away trying to escape the system. He'd just be another number lost in a sea of statistics, soon to be forgotten by everyone. Everyone but one…

Ann.

She was the closest he had to family, and right now they needed each other more than ever. Just thinking of leaving hear broke his heart, but this was now bigger than himself. It would be selfish to prioritise their own happiness over that of thousands of other helpless innocents. Not to mention, if he was to commit to this new vocation he needed to sever all ties; not only was it extremely dangerous, but also highly illegal–the least Ann knew about it, the safer she would be. He spent a long time trying rationalise his decision to alleviate the pain of abandoning his only friend, but he couldn't got back to turning a blind eye to the injustice of the world.

Without so much as a note, he took his few possessions, put his hood on, and climbed out the window to embark into a new mission, leaving his old self behind.

"Alright, I'm off for the day. Miss Hirata, would you mind taking out the garbage on your way out?"

"Of course, sir; not a problem. Have a good evening!"

Yumi Hirata bid farewell to her boss with a cheery smile that morphed into an annoyed frown the very second he walked out the door. Happy that there was no one left in the office to hear her defeated sighs, she stood from her desk to collect the bags from the bins. What was advertised as an administrative position turned out to be little more than a glorified secretary. Shortly after starting at this new job, her boss jumped at the opportunity to pin every undesirable task around the office on her–organising the archives, getting lunch for everyone, and now apparently taking out the trash was her responsibility too. Notwithstanding the pressure of her supervisor, she obeyed without protest, wanting to make a good impression. No matter how awful work was, financial independence was preferable than going back home to her nagging mother.

With her purse in one hand and a bouquet of plastic bags in the other, Yumi locked the office door behind her and headed for the alleyway around the corner to toss the rubbish in the dumpster. Most of her walk was spent inwardly complaining about her jerk of a boss, and when she reached her destination, she took out her frustrations by forcefully tossing the waste into the container. She then leaned against its surface to resume the sulking.

At times like these she could really go for a smoke. She made a vow to quit after university, however, her naïve past-self had no idea just how hard the stress levels of corporate life would make it to keep that promise. Normally she would've chastised herself for her lack of will power, but she quickly shook that thought out of her head; she had been working so hard lately–the least she deserved was a whimsical cigarette to relax. She fetched a pack of Mevius Super Lights and an off-brand Zippo from her handbag, and proceeded to light one up.

"Excuse me, miss. Got a light?" Someone called from behind her.

She turned around to find a very tall, broad man. He was wearing a long, tan trench coat and matching flat cap; an unlit cigarette hung loosely from the edge of his lips.

As a fellow smoker, Yumi could relate to the struggle of misplacing one's fire, so she did not hesitate to aid the man in need.

"Sure." She replied while offering him her lighter.

The man accepted with a smile. He held the small flame with his right hand while protecting it from the wind with his left. He successfully lit his cigarette and took an elongated drag. He then took an appraising look at the lighter.

"This is a very nice lighter…" He said. "I think I'll keep it."

"I beg your pardon?" Yumi asked in confusion, thinking she misheard him, but the man did not answer. Suddenly, she felt something cold poke her ribs.

"Come to think of it, I'll also take your bag... and your phone as well."

Yumi looked down and realised the man's trench coat was concealing an extra pair of arms, one of which was holding a gun against her.

Although she was panicking, the fear froze her in place. The mugger attempted to yank the handbag out of her elbow with his free forelimbs.

"There are better ways to get a girl's phone number, you know?"

He shifted his look in every direction trying to find origin of the remark, but he perceived no presence besides his own and his victim's.

"Kudos for the enthusiasm, but the gun might be a bit of a turn-off for some."

The heckler finally surfaced from the far end of the dark alley; he could have melded into the shadows were it not for the striking white mask on his face.

He pulled Yumi into a chokehold and aimed the gun at her temple. "Not another step! Move a muscle and I'll fill her with lead."

"Rest assured, I do not plan to lift a single finger." Ren said raising his hands. "I'll let my partner take care of it."

"Partner?"

"Arsène!"

A burst of azure fire illuminated the alleyway, briefly blinding the four-armed man.

"Cleave!"

Arsène struck him, knocking away his weapon and separating him form Yumi, who scurried to hide in a corner.

Ren turned round to check on her. "Are you hurt?"

"Hey, Didn't your mama teach you to mind your own business?" Whilst Ren was distracted, the thug had recovered from the hit. He cracked his two pairs of knuckles and assumed a fighting stance before taunting the masked vigilante. "Nice clown costume. Didn't know the circus was in town."

Ren mirrored the move and readied for battle. "Just for tonight, Big guy. The position of strongman is still open, by the way."

"Consider this my audition then."

With the combined power of his four arms, the man picked the dumpster over his head with ease. He hurled it as a projectile at Ren, but Arsène intercepted it, using his razor sharp talons to slice the metallic container mid-air. But their adversary didn't even give them a chance to breathe when he immediately followed up with a frontal charge.

"Eiha!"

The demonic thief shot out a bolt of dark energy, which the incoming attacker dodged with a swift side-step. In the blink of an eye, he was within melee range. Arsène wasted no time to counterattack, but the extra limbs gave the man the ability to block and strike simultaneously. His form suggested he had boxing experience, and his speed and agility were disproportional for a brute of such size. Ren realised he made a fatal mistake by not finishing him off while he still had the element of surprise on his side.

After a close scuffle, the criminal landed a devastating punch on Arsène that sent him crashing into Ren. The persona and its user collapsed against a wall, causing the former to vanish. The man clutched and lifted Ren by the neck with his upper arms while using his lower arms to rain a series of blows to the boy's abdomen.

Ren tried his hardest to free himself, but to no avail. Desperation took a hold of him; his judgment clouded by the incessant pain increasing with each hit. He had to do something or this would be his end. Instinctively, he tilted his head back and swung it with all his strength to ram his forehead directly against his attacker's nose. The unforeseen headbutt made his opponent stagger backwards. Before he could recuperate, Ren pressed on the advantage and delivered a kick to his knee, an elbow to his jaw, and with momentum he spun on his axis and summoned his own pistol in a single motion to shoot a round dead centre in the man's chest.

The thug dropped limp to the ground. An exhale charged with relief escaped Ren's lips and he too sat in the ground to catch his breath. Yumi had been witnessing the duel petrified from the corner, but the loud discharge of the firearm snapped her out of it.

"I-is he… is he dead?" She asked.

"He's just unconscious, it wasn't set to kill."

She relaxed when she saw the chest of the man slowly rise and lower, indicating he was still breathing. Ren's firearm disappeared in a blue flash, he crouched next to the unconscious ruffian and started patting his body.

Yumi blinked perplexed. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for something… and jackpot!" Ren exclaimed while victoriously holding the criminal's wallet.

Yumi stared at him in utter disbelief.

Ren shrugged. "My apologies, madame. I know this behaviour is unbecoming, but I haven't eaten anything in three days. Besides, he won't be needing the cash in prison."

"Um, I'm incredibly grateful for saving me, but… are you a new Hero? I don't recognise you."

"Not quite… that is why I need your help." He replied. "Sleeping Beauty over here won't be waking up for a couple of hours at least. In the meantime, I need you to call the police and wait for them to come and arrest him. When they arrive, give them this."

He handed her a piece of paper resembling a business card. It was blood red in colour and had a hand-drawn emblem on one side–a cartoonish face with a jagged smile and a top hat. Yumi stifled the urge to laugh at the rather puerile design, thinking she might bruise his pride.

She smile and looked up to ask for his saviour's name, but he was nowhere in sight. Just as quick as he came, her mysterious, nameless hero disappeared into the night.

Ren stumbled through the window into the unoccupied office building he had made his temporary dwelling for the last few nights; he was carrying a takeaway bag with the Big Bang Burger logo on the side.

On his way in he noticed that the 'For Rent' sign had been taken off the property, which meant new tenants would move in any day now. He needed to find a new shelter soon, but he was way too exhausted to worry about that right now. For tonight, he was going to try and get some rest.

His thief outfit dematerialised and was replaced by his casual clothes. He moved towards the lounge area he had converted into a makeshift bedroom and plopped down on the sofa. Once finally safe, he lifted his shirt to assess the damage from tonight's fight, revealing a large area in his torso covered in bruises. He grimaced, but couldn't resist the temptation to touch it.

"Ouch…that's gonna hurt in the morning."

He laid down and started feasting on the warm junk food, which after his extended period of fasting tasted like a gourmet meal. It took great effort, but he exerted constrain on himself to not wolf down his dinner in seconds. To distract himself as he ate, he pulled out a sketchpad and a mechanical pencil from his bag, and started scribbling.

"What are you doing?" Arsène asked from the back of his mind.

"Trying to come up with a new logo. The current one doesn't quite convey the image I'm going for."

Through Ren's eyes, Arsène observed the various drafts and concepts for a logo in the notebook.

"Is that supposed to look like me?"

"Hey, I'm not a professional artist. Cut me some slack."

"You know I am a devout of theatricality, but aren't there other things more deserving of your attention than a new logo?"

He didn't have to answer, for Arsène's thoughts were also his own. He had underestimated his opponent, and it almost cost him his life. Ren realised that carrying out his vision of justice would require more than determination; he could not do it in his current state. That night before sleeping he pledged to train and get stronger.

And so, for the next two years that's what became of Ren's life. Training by day, patrolling the streets by night. Looting criminals to scrape by; surviving on convenience store bento and fast food. Squatting in vacant apartments, abandoned warehouses, and even crashing in a bench in the park if it came down to it. Although sometimes after scoring a particularly plentiful bounty, he would treat himself to a bed in a manga café.

Every waking moment he devoted to bettering himself however he could–endurance exercise, practicing martial arts, and even keeping himself informed with books from the public library–but his training did not end when he slept. After his initial encounter with the cognitive world, he continued seeing the place in his dreams, where he tested his combat skills against Shadows and recruited new Personas to join his compendium.

It didn't take long for the news of a clandestine crime-fighter to spread. The media became particularly fond of the tales recounting the elusive vigilante's exploits, and before long, the name they had given him was in the mouths of people all over the country. And thus, the legend of Joker was born.

U.A , Present day

Everyone's eyes were focused on the small cardstock rectangle in the narrator's hands. It was the last version of his calling card–this one was charcoal black with a deep red illustration of a blazing domino mask and a new and improved stylish top hat. Ren fiddled with the card while staring at it with a bittersweet smile.

"…it was supposed to be another routine yakuza bust; nothing I had never done before, but it turned out the law was on my trail and I got arrested. I spent two weeks in a holding cell until principal Nezu and Mr. Aizawa came to offer me the opportunity to serve my probation while attending U.A. High School and… well, as they say–the rest is history."

The students of class 1-A found themselves tongue-tied. They were all hesitant to break the silence, struggling to find the right thing to say to such a heavy story, and Ren couldn't blame them. He had just shared his deeply personal past, and on top of that, he admitted that all of his previous powers were nothing but merely a by-product of his actual Quirk–a connection to another dimension. He wouldn't be surprised if they took him for crazy.

The first one to take initiative was Ojiro. The tailed boy walked up to Ren, and without saying a word, he bowed before him.

"Ojiro?"

"I must apologise, Amamiya. I misjudged you as a criminal, but I was wrong. Your drive to help others, the sacrifices you've made… There's nothing more honourable than that. Please forgive me."

After the floodgates opened, the rest of his classmates followed suit. Ren was mobbed by expressions of sympathy for him, regret for his previous mistreatment, and questions about the mystifying source of his power.

"Guys, it's fine. There is nothing to be sorry about. There are many things I wish I could've done differently, but I've come to learn that there is no point in trying to outrun your past. And more importantly, I am a now here to do things right."

The next one to speak was Ida, who had been silent throughout all of Ren's story, but seemed to be one of the most affected. The conflicted look in his face was transparent.

"The police and Heroes turning their backs on someone in need… I just cannot believe it."

"I believe it." Todoroki interjected. "That sounds like my old man alright."

Ren's self-proclaimed rival lowered his head. The revelation of Joker's backstory lifted a veil in the way he had come to see him. There was much he wished to say, but it was hard to put into words.

"Listen, Amamiya. I–"

The voice of Midnight interrupted from the school's PA system. "All students report to the field! The drawing for the final tournament bracket will begin shortly."

The students made their way back to the Sports Festival grounds. Before Todoroki left, Ren tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

"There is also something I need to say to you, Todoroki. We'll talk later, okay?"

He nodded silently and exited the waiting room.

Ren collected himself and prepared to get back out here. He might have mended things with his class, but he still had to prove himself to the world. His fight was not yet over.