All people are not all born equal. That was the hard truth that many were forced to learn in this new superhuman society. When roughly eighty percent of the population are born with some form of supernatural ability, then the supernatural becomes natural, the extraordinary becomes ordinary, and the novelty wears off really quickly.
Every child wanted to be a hero when they grew up and, to be fair, many of them did get to experience their dreams in one way or another. Some were everyday heroes - doctors, police, and other first responders. There were others who became popular pros, and a small few - like world famous All Might - went on to be the world's greatest heroes.
Unfortunately, the harsh reality was that for every pro hero in this new superhuman society, there were dozens of those whose quirks were discarded for one reason or another. Their quirks weren't powerful enough, flashy enough, useful enough for society to care about, so they were left in the dust.
That was the part of society where Kiyoko Yumeno found herself. Not useful enough to be a hero, but not quite as useless as people believed the quirkless to be. Of course, she went through the same motions most kids her age did; falling in love with heroism and helping people, desperate to be a hero herself, rejection from every hero program in the area, and then anger against the quirk system society had developed. It wasn't until her final year of high school that she was able to truly accept her lot in life, and only after falling in love with something besides being a hero. It's true, she may not be helping people in the traditional way, but a good show could always put a smile on people's faces.
She hadn't disappointed a single audience yet, and tonight was going to be no different. The curtain lifted and a hush fell over the crowd as their eyes locked onto Kiyoko standing center stage. They watched and waited for the show to begin, some leaning forward in their chairs intent on not missing even the smallest detail of the show, others leaning back, relaxed, and letting the mystic wash over them.
As the first sad notes of the music filled the room, Kiyoko's activated her quirk, enveloping the room in a veil of shadows. She extended her arms to begin her dance, and the shadows moved in tandem around her, swirling like dozens of dark veils. She took her first, tentative steps across the stage and the shadows moved with her, weaving around the theater, between the audience members and onto the stage to envelop Kiyoko in their darkness. They whipped around her body, flying through her hair, wrapping around her neck, chest, waist, and legs. Every movement Kiyoko made led to the shadows tightening their grip around her body, until she was nearly fully encased in them.
The music swelled around her, taking on almost a menacing quality and the shadows reacted in time. While some stayed wrapped around Kiyoko's body, others began to take a more corporeal state becoming monsters and demons chasing her across the stage. Her movements, slow and timid before, started to become more urgent, more jagged. It looked as though Kiyoko was attempting to escape from the newly formed demons, to break free from their grasps.
Suddenly the music stopped, and the shadows swelled around the theater, plunging everyone into total darkness. Scared and worried whispers echoed through the otherwise silent room as Kiyoko took her moment to catch her breath. Not only was this dance incredibly difficult to execute but when adding the additional stress of maintaining her quirk for so long it was an incredible stress on her body.
But, as they say, the show must go on.
The music started again, a single violin playing a soft, almost melancholy tune and the spotlight hit Kiyoko once again, crumpled on the ground as if in defeat. The whispering died immediately as the audience, captive to her story, waited anxiously for the climax of her performance. Her fist slammed against the stage floor; the sound amplified by the drum in the orchestra. She pushed herself up, leaping through the air in a graceful Grande jete, her movements more steady, more dynamic, as the conductor below led the orchestra to the melody's crescendo.
The shadows, still wrapped around Kiyoko's body, showed some slack with each stride; the shapes of the monsters on stage started to waver with each step, each note. She was fighting off the darkness with each pirouette - every wave of her arm like throwing a punch, every gentle sweep of her leg a powerful kick. The shadows slowly dissipated, almost entirely, and were replaced with the previously hidden bright backdrop of the stage. The lights above reflected off the crystals woven into the tapestry, bathing both Kiyoko and the audience in a dazzling rainbow.
The music started to fade out once again, and Kiyoko made her final moves across the stage. Each motion was slower than the last, until she was back in center stage. The lights went black, but not before the audience caught a glimpse of the shadows once again enveloping Kiyoko's body. The curtain closed just as the audience burst into raucous applause and Kiyoko finally released her quirk. She fell to her knees in exhaustion, as someone from the stage crew rushed over with a bottle of water and a towel which she gratefully accepted.
She downed the bottle of water quickly, as her makeup team came over to touch up the inevitable imperfections after a performance. Though it only seemed to Kiyoko to have been a few minutes, she was dancing for over an hour with nothing but a small break to catch her breath between acts. She barely had the energy to push herself back up into a standing position but forced herself to do so as her team scurried off stage and the curtain opened once more to the deafening applause from the audience. With a smile on her face, she took three deep bows - left, right, and center - as thanks to the audience for joining her tonight.
She walked off stage after a respectable amount of time and made her way back to her dressing room to decompress. As soon as she walked in, she collapsed in the chair in front of her vanity mirror and closed her eyes for a few moments before peeling herself out of the tight leotard and changing into her street clothes. For a relatively short one-hour performance, it took twice as long to get both in and out of costume after the show. As soon as she was back in comfortable clothes, she got to work removing her makeup, starting with the false lashes she hated so much and ending with pulling the bright blue contact lenses from her eyes to showcase her real deep green ones. She squinted around looking for her glasses on the admittedly disastrous table when she heard a knock on her door.
"Come in!" she called, as she put her glasses on. She turned to see the stage manager, Yori, walk in, headset still resting on his neck.
"Amazing performance as always Kiyoko," he said with a smile. "How are we feeling?"
"Tired," she replied, emphasizing her words with a long yawn. "But what else is new."
"Right, of course," Yori said with a chuckle. "Well, I'm just letting you know we're getting a lot of positive feedback from the audience after tonight's show. The new choreography is going over like gangbusters."
"That's exactly what I like to hear. I'm glad everyone enjoyed it. But I did want to talk to Rei about some of the lighting choices - I think if we changed the spotlight before the third act it might add to some of the tension I'm trying to showcase."
"I'll let her know," Yori agreed. "But for now, just revel in the fact that people like it. And finish in here and head home before you fall asleep in that chair again."
Kiyoko waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. I'll just be a few more minutes and then I'll head out. I'll see you at rehearsal on Wednesday, have a good night Yori."
"Good night," he answered back before shutting the door.
Kiyoko let out another long yawn and packed up her backpack before making her way out of the theater and onto the quiet evening street. The air had a crisp chill in it, signaling that they were about to reach the end of summer, and fall was coming quickly. She bundled up her jacket and started on her walk down to the metro station a few blocks away.
She was just a few feet away from the station when a man, dressed in a sleek suit stepped out in front of her, blocking her path. She stopped in her tracks, instantly on alert, and took a hesitant step back. "Excuse me," she said politely, though the nervousness in her voice was apparent.
"Ms. Kiyoko Yumeno?" the man asked.
"I-I'm sorry," Kiyoko responded, her worry growing in her chest. "Do I know you?" In lieu of a verbal response, the man handed Kiyoko his card which she tentatively accepted. "Ashasi Nakamura…Hero Public Safety Commission?"
"Yes, that's right ma'am." He pulled a wallet out of his pocket and showed her a shiny gold badge and ID card stating the same. "I caught your show this evening. You've probably heard this many times but you're extremely talented Ms. Yumeno."
"Uh…well thank you," she replied. She was more relaxed now that she knew the man wasn't some type of pervert but was still keeping her guard up. "Is there something I can do for you Mr. Nakamura?"
"Well yes, as a matter of fact." He stopped and cleared his throat before continuing. "We have a bit of a situation going on right now and after seeing your performance, I think we may be in need of you and your quirk."
"Ummm…" Kiyoko didn't have a response for Ashasi's statement, completely thrown off by what he was saying. She stood there in stunned silence processing his words until he cleared his throat again.
"I know this probably seems unexpected, and I understand your confusion Ms. Yumeno. I can explain what it is we're asking of you but not here. Why don't you meet us at the Commission's office tomorrow morning, and we can talk more then. Hopeful in the light of day and after a good night's sleep we can have a productive conversation."
Kiyoko's cheeks flushed and she glared at the agent. "I don't know what you want from me Mr. Nakamura, but I'm not a hero, I'm a ballerina. I think I'll pass on this."
"Whoa, okay hold on," he said, holding up his hands as she tried to walk past him. "I know you're not a hero Ms. Yumeno, that's why I'm asking for your help. Just…don't say no yet. Sleep on it and decide in the morning what you want to do. But…believe me, I wouldn't be asking a civilian like you for help unless we truly needed it."
"Have a good night Mr. Nakamura," she replied curtly, attempting to brush past him. He let her pass this time with nothing more than a wave goodbye and walked off in the opposite direction. When Kiyoko turned her head, she could see him get into a sleek black SUV parked on the corner.
She stared down at his card in contemplation as she walked down the steps into the station. What she had said to Mr. Nakamura was correct - she was no hero, so what the hell did they want from her? As her train approached the platform, she rolled her eyes crumpled up the business card in her palm. She motioned to throw the ball into the trash can next to her but stopped herself at the last moment. She stared at the paper in her palm, and against her better judgment shoved it deep into her pocket.
She had no intention of going to the Commission's office tomorrow but might as well just humor them and sleep on it as she had been asked.