We're closing in on the endgame boys and girls! Pucker your ventilation shafts for shit's about to get wild!

Also, after the partial horror chapter now it's time for the angst chapter...

Marika dammit.

Still, it's out of the way and so, onwards to the good shit! Hehehe~

Also, Cuha tries a thing...

Days until Boros arrives: 9

Days until the end of the world: 39

Sweat dripping down his brow, Yuha paused and opened his eyes.

A hum of satisfaction leaving his lips, smile stretching wide.

For even if it'd been but a mere two days since his, through no fault of his own, meeting with Kabuto and the subsequent ban imposed upon training, courtesy of Tatsu and Fubuki. That same prohibition did not, mercifully, extend to technique training as well.

Nodding and making a fist, his aura blazing scarlet in less than a heartbeat, the limb's muscles swelling, as did their siblings across the rest of his body, Yuha let the technique drop.

At first he'd balked at their demand, but, with the benefit of hindsight…and little else to do, he found that the time spent on furthering his mastery of his skills instead of growing his raw power to have been time well spent.

For he could now summon his Kaio-ken all the way to stage ten straight away.

And that's not all!

With his huge increase in power level, he found that he could now handle stage ten with relative ease, the sensation of activating it akin to the pressure, the weight and the agony he'd experienced prior to his recent…boost, when activating stage seven.

He jumped to his feet, noting the chirping of some nearby swallows, nested on the trees, the little ones huddling down for the swiftly approaching night no doubt.

Something evident by the westering sun, the dimming of the sun's light and the emergence of glittering dots on the sky above bringing with them a drop in temperature.

And from deep within him, Yuha's body filed a tiny complaint, causing him to snort and shake his head as he turned around, making his way out of the clearing and up the winding path, back towards Bang's Dojo. His body's whining, no doubt a result of his namekian heritage.

Still, he'd done more than just hone his kaio-ken. Among other things, improving his skill with instant transmission a tad, his overall ki control as well as finally managing that technique, but to name a few.

Nonetheless…

Marika dammit! Come on, girls! I've already apologized! I'm dying of thirst here! Grind thirst to be specific! Show mercy! Come on! I'm just a little guy don't ya know?

He hoped they showed mercy soon and let him get back to training.

For if grind-chan continued teasing and blue-balling him like that…

He shuddered.

It would be best for everyone if the ban did not last long, let's just say.

Now granted, Yuha, if it came down to it, could easily ignore them and start training again if he so wished.

But, given that he had something like a couple of months still till Boros arrived, what did it hurt to listen to the sisters and show his girlfriends that he cared and appreciated the fact that they cared for him in turn?

After all, even if their attempts were misguided, the girls meant well.

So no, he could humor them.

…for a few more days at least.

Even if he ached.

Grind~chan!

Besides, it's not like his power level stopped growing!

The curious growth continuing those past few days, and if it did not stop, in a couple of days more he'd break the thousand mark, and with it, he suspected he'd be able to, at last, utilize that skill. His efforts in the past two days, what with his new power level, showing some most promising results.

Oh, he could almost taste it…

"Patience, Yuha…Patience…" he mumbled as he reached the Dojo's door, stepping in and coming face to face with a sweating Charanko. "Senpai."

"Ah, Yuha!" the gasping man said, rivulets of sweat trailing freely down his head and the bits of the man's body visible through his qi. "Training going well?"

He shrugged. "It's going as good as it can…given that I'm only allowed to train my skill until the sisters give the okay."

Charanko chuckled and made a whipping motion.

Yuha arched an eyebrow. "Rich coming from you, mister 'blood sucking goddess who'—mpf!" the youth, in a surprising burst of speed had crossed the distance, covering Yuha's mouth with his calloused hand.

"Ssh!"

Rolling his eyes, Yuha stepped back, batting the arm away as he did.

"Anyway, where is Sensei, or Grayfia, for that matter?"

Charanko sighed. "Sensei is busy. Apparently some tough monster appeared a couple of cities over, and given he was the nearest S-rank who could handle it…"

"Ah. Makes sense."

"As for Grayfia." Charanko paused, and sighed, eyes downcast. "I'm not sure. She left a few hours ago, said something about needing to think."

That…doesn't sound good.

He licked his lips.

"She didn't say anything else, anything at all?"

Charanko shrugged. "Nope, sorry Kouhai."

Yuha let out a frustrated exhale. "Nah, can't be helped, not your fault, senpai. Still, how's your training going? Need any help?"

At this, Charanko flashed him a thankful smile. "No, thank you, I have my plate full with what you and Master have already shown me, but, I'm making good progress!"

"That's good to hear!" Yuha said with a smile and a nod. "But, if you don't need me for anything—"

"Nah, go do whatever."

With another nod and a wave, Yuha spun about and excited the Dojo.

Stretching his senses wide, scanning, looking, hunting.

For Grayfia's mood, these past two days had been…well, even if he didn't know the girl all that well, she'd been nothing even close to what she'd been like on that night she spent nursing him followed by them talking till dawn.

Not that he blamed her. But…

He had a bad feeling about this. So, best not to let it fester and nip it in the bud before it could blossom into something troublesome.

Bullshit, we've come so far, you and I! Don't you dare fail me now!

Iaian could but stare.

Gritting his teeth, he clenched his gauntleted hand, causing the plate to creak in protest before jumping down from the rooftop and dashing towards the fallen heroes, ignoring the murmuring crowds.

Coming to a stop, he knelt next to the groaning heroine while nearby, the roaring waves continued to crush against the harbor and the taste of salt suffused the air.

"Oi, oi! Stay with me!" he shouted, his hands flying over the prone woman's body, checking with efficient practiced motions.

A relieved sigh escaping his lips upon failing to find any mortal injuries. On the outside at least.

"Oi!" he shouted, leaning down next to the woman's ear as he did. "Can you hear me?"

She groaned. "-oo loud," the heroine said, groaning again and opening her eyes. And a quick scan showed no sign of concussion. Not that Iaian could be certain of that without medical instruments.

Still, she responded, could seemingly hear and think, and, baring some internal injury, did not need his immediate help.

Iaian's eyes fell on the rest of the downed heroes. He itched to check on them too, but first—

"Can you tell me what happened here? Who did this to you?" he asked, the woman letting out a pained grunt as she mumbled.

"Sorry, didn't catch that?"

"-ish people. They called themselves Fish people," the girl repeated. "Apparently they're invading the surface or something."

Iaian's heart froze.

That…if true, that complicated things quite a bit.

"Fish people? Like the Subterraneans?" he asked, but the girl merely curled to her side.

"Don't know, don't care. They beat us black and blue they did. Go after them if you wish, follow the path of destruction and you'll find them, but before you go get yourself smacked around, call for an ambulance, will ya?"

Iaian pursed his lips.

This is not the attitude a Hero should have!

Still, the woman could be forgiven. What with the recent defeat she and her comrades suffered and her very obvious pain.

But, irrespective of Iaian's own feelings on the matter, her words held a kernel of truth.

Rising to his feet and glancing at the rest of the fallen heroes, he grabbed his communicator out of a pouch hanging from his belt and, ignoring the murmuring crowd, radioed for backup before his eyes fell on the ruined shop-fronts, the wrecked cars and torn tarmac, and yes, even a few groaning civilians here and there, all of them leading, all of them pointing towards the center of the city.

The heroine's words had been the truth, after all.

The carnage painted a clear path.

Hand falling on the hilt of his blade he exploded into motion, running, his feet pumping against the asphalt and in short order panicked screams reached him along with small explosions and the sound of burning tires and gasoline and, rounding a street corner, his boots skidding against the tarmac, Iaian's eyes fell on a group of what he could only describe as humanoid fish.

They stunk like fish, too.

"Are you the ones?" he growled, coming to a stop behind the group, causing the biggest one amongst them to turn first, the tentacles of its octopus head twitching as it gazed at Iaian.

"Oho? Fresh prey, how delightful~" the being purred, before leaning forward. "The ones? What do you mean, little landling?"

"The ones who did all this?" he asked, jerking his head to the carnage all around them. The sobbing terrified civilians, making it hard to hold back and offer the beasts even this much courtesy.

"Ahahaha!" the octopus chuckled. "Why yes, yes we are!"

He had to know.

"And what is your relation to the subterraneans?"

The octopus scoffed, making a dismissive gesture with a scaly hand.

"Those weaklings? The cowering dirt singers who cry for peace and hide behind the accords? What of them?"

Iaian nodded. That's all he needed to know. His companion slid free of its scabbard and they started dancing. The fish people joining the screaming civilians.

It'd been a while since he had sushi…

"Now, you might feel a slight pinch, but worry not. Just take a deep breath and you'll be out shorty after and we'll be done before you—"

Ranni growled, and with an arm batter away the approaching oxygen mask.

"What are you doing?"

"Forget the anesthetic."

"Are you insane?!"

She glared and folded both pairs of arms.

"No, I'm not. And while it is heartening to see you have actual bedside manners and a surprising interest in your patient's comfort, you can't use anesthetic."

"And dare I ask why not?"

Ranni's jaw clenched, a muscle twitching on the side, a vein popping on her neck.

"Trust me, I like this about as much as you do. But, I need to be awake to ensure proper synchronization and connection is established."

The white-haired man glared.

"Are you implying that I don't know how to do my job, your highness?" he asked with a dangerous tone and her glare softened.

"No…Apologies, it's nothing of the sort, but, you do know I'm a goddess, yes?"

"I know that it might come as somewhat of a surprise to a youngster like you, your highness but, my eyes happen to be working just fine."

She snorted. "I'm older than you, but, touche," she said, conceding the point, and the smile caused by the brief moment of levity slipped away. "But, in any case, no. I do not doubt your skills, my good Doctor, it's just, that due to my divinity, I need to be awake to ensure proper synchronization as I've said. After all, I doubt you've operated on many gods before."

The man's mustache twitched.

"Less than I would've liked, yes. The sample is admittedly…small."

She merely stared, and the man sighed.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, massaging his nose.

"Yes."

"Very well," he murmured and, with a narrowing of his eyes, nearby metal drawers slid open and straps and a thin piece of adamantium with leather wrapped around it floated free, rushing towards the operating table, the straps wrapping themselves around Ranni.

Holding her in place.

She bit on the hovering piece of adamantium, lowering her head back on the pillow like material.

"Apologies, but…this is going to hurt," the old man said with a sorrowful incline of his head.

The scalpel descended.

Ranni knew pain.

The sound of the wind whistling about her ears, ruffling her hair, coupled with the blaring horns of the cars below alongside the smell of smog intermixing with the relatively clear air up here made for an interesting juxtaposition.

Fitting, she supposed, for the turmoil going on inside her heart.

Part of her wished for nothing more than to scream. To rage at the injustice of it all.

Alongside wanting to curse Yuha, for the man's unasked for gift had granted her a conscience, allowing her to see past her blinders. To realize what a brat she'd been.

And yet.

Such an ability also brought with it the gift, or, rather, she supposed, the curse of pain, of grief.

What a fool she'd been.

Once she had scoffed at the notion of mingling with her supposed lessers, and yet, now…

'Clack'

"Is the seat taken?" a familiar baritone voice asked, causing part of her to rage as she turned her head, while the rest, the bigger part of herself, being mortified at even feeling like this.

Heh. Yet another thing I'm a failure at. Fitting, I suppose.

Not trusting herself to speak, Grayfia shook her head, and Yuha took a few steps towards the rim of the stadium's roof, joining her, his feet also dangling off the ledge.

"It all seems so small from up here, doesn't it?" he murmured, staring at the wider city stretching out below them.

She opened her mouth, and yet, no words came. Swallowing, Grayfia stared at the city and the myriad of lights defying the night.

"I…" the man sighed, and she stared out of the corner of her eyes. Yuha ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not the best at this, so, apologies. But, even though I cannot profess to understand what you're going through, I'm here if you'll have me, for what little good I'll be."

She snorted.

Yeah right, Zero not being good at something aside from healing? That would be a first.

Grayfia growled, and raised her left hand, making a shaking fist, wanting to punch him and yet, feeling like shit for desiring to do so.

"You can, if you want," the man said, a sad smile on his face and voice kind.

She growled and her arm started to lower, she shouldn't and yet.

From a certain point of view, wasn't this all his fault, anyway?

She socked him on the shoulder, causing him to grunt and tilt a bit to the side.

"By Marika's golden thighs, I don't envy anyone who'll try to rob you," the man said, rubbing his shoulder. "Sheesh! That hurt!"

Despite her pain, she cracked a smile, and through the darkness infesting her mind, a spark of curiosity shone.

Who's Marika?

As if he could read her mind, the man nodded. "She's my, I guess you could say, wife."

Grayfia's eyes widened.

Yuha's married?!

"Before you ask, it's complicated. We're currently separated, but, we'll be together soon enough…" the man said before shrugging. "But that's a topic for another time. Grayfia, if you wish to talk, I'm here. If you simply want company, that's fine too. If you want me to leave, just say the world and I'll be out of your beautiful hair."

A growl ripped free through her throat and with narrowed eyes she prepared to tell him to do just that before her rage cooled as quickly as it'd come, a deep melancholy replacing it and she gazed at the city once more, sighing.

"No…stay…"

"As you wish."

A second passed, and then another, and another, which soon altogether turned into a minute, followed by many more of its siblings.

At some point, Yuha started humming a song that tugged at her heartstrings, one that seemed fitting to the pain ravaging her innards and, despite herself, a spark of warmth sprung into existence within her heart, crackling in defiance of the cold suffusing her.

"I hate him." The words slipped free with a whisper, unbidden.

"Mmh." He hummed, his tone neither judging nor approving.

"Is that bad?" she asked, voice hollow as she stared out into the city and the cars below. "That's bad, is it not? After all, heroes are not supposed to hate, are they?"

"You'd be surprised," the man murmured by her side. "Heroes are human too, Grayfia."

She let out a hollow chuckle. "Maybe lesser heroes, yes. But, to someone as great as you, such a notion must sound silly, deplorable even," she sighed as she raised an arm. "After all, I'm not even human, not really, I'm but a—"

"You're wrong."

"Eh?"

"We haven't had the chance to really get to know one another, but Grayfia. This image I suspect you have of me…It's flawed. Wrong."

Her heart picked up its pace.

"What do you mean?" she asked with suddenly dry lips. "You're Heaven Piercing Perfect—"

"Zero."

"Yes."

"The last bit is what's important, Grayfia," the man said and sighed, leaning back, his palms upon the metal as he stared at the sky filled with stars. "Despite what it might seem like at times to others, I'm neither perfect, nor have all the answers. In fact, most of the time, I'm winging it." He glanced at her before gazing back up. "Yes. I try to project a heroic image, but that's for the benefit of the common people and other heroes. To give them something to aspire to. To give them hope." He raised his right arm, pointing at the sky with his index. "To make them reach for the stars!" he roared with conviction, and her heart skipped a beat.

His arm fell limply by his side, and he sighed.

"But, inside? Inside, I feel the same weak old Yuha, the same old Zero," he said with a bitter smile. "So, trust me when I say to you that I'm just as fallible, just as weak and cowardly, just as capable of wrath…and hate as you or anyone else."

She sniffed.

"N-no, you're lying and—"

He hugged her with one arm, and her breath hitched.

"No, Grayfia. No, I'm not."

She hiccuped. "B-but hating as I do. Wishing a painful death upon someone like that is not heroic and—"

Sighing, Yuha pulled back, shaking his head, and she winced. Ready for the man to reprimand and scold her.

Only nothing of the sort happened.

"Grayfia…having dark thoughts is normal. It's part of what makes us human," he said, staring intently at her, making her breath hitch once more at the implication. "And know that I'm here for you whenever you need me, but, and given that for some foolish reasons you seem to hold me and my words in high regard," the man said with an eye-roll.

Making her chortle.

"Then let me share with you something, and no, I neither expect you to just 'get over' your pain nor something as asinine as 'dropping your hate or your desire for revenge'. No." He shook his head. "But, rather, Grayfia, all I'm asking is that you don't let it consume you, let it control you. For a hero is not someone who is not afraid, or who doesn't hate, or who is a paragon. No, a hero is someone who manages to persevere in spite of the pain they're facing. Someone who overcomes the temptations lurking in their heart. Still, in the days to come, whenever you feel doubt…"

"Yes?"

The man stared at her with an intense gaze, and he started to speak, clearly reciting from memory.

"Through action, a Man becomes a Hero.

"Through death, a Hero becomes a Legend.

"Through time, a Legend becomes a Myth.

"And by learning from the Myth, a Man takes action."

Her heart thundered in her chest, the words and their implications… a bit too much for her at the present moment. And yet…

Yuha smiled. "So, Grayfia, when you feel the darkness threatening to overwhelm you, ask yourself. What sort of Hero and in time, Legend do you want to be? What sort of legacy do you wish to leave for all the heroes that will follow? At the end of the day, for whom do you fight?"

"I…"

A finger suddenly on her lips silenced her and made her go cross-eyed.

"Don't rush to answer. There's no need. The answer is yours, and yours alone. And whenever the darkness threatens to prove too much?" Yuha smiled and rotated his torso, most of the man's back and wings facing her as he pointed at them with a thump. "Remember that I'm here! Just follow my path! Or ask me to lend a hand."

She smiled before a thought came unbidden.

But…who's helping you?

"But enough of my stuffy monologues," the man said, and she giggled. Feeling a tad lighter. "Whenever you need me and whenever you want to talk, I'll be here Grayfia," he said and, facing her, spread his arms. "Hug?"

Sniffing, she all but tackled the man, clutching at him like a lifeline, her shoulders shaking.

"There, there," he said, patting her head with one arm. "There's a good girl."

The dam within her burst, and she started sobbing, holding with desperate strength on the man, with a grip strong enough to crush a normal human's bones and, after some time she pulled back, and in a reversal of their roles from a couple of days prior, laid her head on the man's lap and started to talk.

Talk about whatever came to mind. Of her regrets, her sorrows, her dark vengeful desires so unbecoming of a hero and much more. The man never judging, merely listening and asking questions from time to time as she did. And in so doing, helping her discover her own true thoughts, her own mind.

And so, the hours passed, until the rays of the distant dawn crested the mountains near the city and she blinked.

"Ah."

"Yes. The sun is rising," Yuha said, glancing straight at the distant orb raging against the darkness of the void. "Feel any better?" he asked, glancing down at her and, with a blink, she found that yes. Yes, she did.

"Yeah…" she whispered.

Not fine. Not perfect. Not yet. But…with time…and after she buried that bastard six feet under?

She stared at the man who once again looked at the sun, the man who'd inadvertently granted her a new life and who continued to help her after, whether he knew it not…

You asked why I fight, for whom I fight…

Disgust filled every inch and every corner of her body, the very idea making the hate aimed at herself grow, and yet, the answer, even if she would never voice it, remained the same.

Oh, no doubt, she still intended to be a hero. She still intended to strive to uphold the ideals of heroism and forge a new shining path for those to come. Atone for her past mistakes.

But.

Gnawing at her lip, she could no longer deny it.

The person she fought for above all else…

It's you. I fight for you!

Like the orb raging against entropy and the void far above, Grayfia found her very own sun.

Perhaps the Grayfia of a couple days prior might have answered differently and even had looked at the present her with disgust. And yet…after losing most of her family, the family she'd foolishly distanced herself from at that.

Her heart trembled as a memory of the man's earlier words and their implication flashed through her mind. He said that he and this…Marika were 'separated', yet, how could someone as strong as Yuha be separated by anyone on this earth?

When he could travel from one corner to the other in but a few scant hours.

No.

The only explanation that made sense…

And his wishful tone when he said they'd be together soon…

She made up her mind. She wouldn't let him go through with it.

I won't lose you too!

And if Yuha intended to continue in his path, in trying to become a symbol for the world to rally behind. Someone to lend everyone a helping hand when they were down?

She'd become his hero. The one who'd help him.

Yuha sighed.

"Well, if you wish to, you're free to remain, of course, but, I really need to get back to the Dojo, so—"

"Un!"

"Eh? Grayfia?"

She smiled and shook her head, lifting herself up. "It's fine, I'm coming," she said.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Oh, alright, but, you don't have to push yourself, nor do you have to come in Tatsumaki's exhibition two days from now if you don't feel up for it, you know that, right?"

The hurt remained in her heart.

The wound still there, raw, pulsing.

And yet.

She had a goal now.

She would endure. Endure, and in time, heal. After all, heroes were those who persevered and overcame, no?

Cuha tries a thing and, as usual it, unknowingly to him, backfires gloriously.

Congratulations! Your depressed bug-girl evolved into a mini-yandere! Nice going idiot!

A vi and a slowed sense of time coupled with Bullshit a treatment for trauma and depression do not make.

And yeah, not the happiest with the Grayfia bit but, eh, it works and it'll help move the story along so, it stays. At the end of the day, this is shonen stuff. Enough introspection and all that rot.