An Endeavor of Charity

I - Reincarnation

"I fear not death as I fear a lie."

- Karna, to Indra

Izuku knew he was going to die the moment he started running. But he didn't care, not when Kacchan was in trouble. It didn't matter that he was Quirkless, or what All Might said. The so-called Heroes weren't doing anything.

He hefted up his backup, watching as the Sludge Villain taunted them and readied himself to attack. A part of him hoped that he would receive help, or something. That he had some deep, hidden power that would help him be the hero he so wanted to be.

But before he reached the Sludge Villain, warmth engulfed him. Orange fire flooded his field of vision as he desperately threw his arms out.

I'm dead.

"Kacchan!"

His mind screamed as he reached out, only to be stopped by a hand. The flame burned all around them, and in the next second, Izuku could see Kacchan dumped next to him.

And then, his mind clicked. Orange flame. He had been saved bya hero. But only one hero had such fire.

He would have smiled any other day, but now he only wondered how lucky he was — who met both the number one and number two in a single day?

That thought only lasted until he looked up. There was no way this was Endeavor. Endeavor was all large muscle and blistering strength, and Izuku was pretty sure that the flame hero did not have a disguise quirk.

The man in front of Izuku had long, white unkempt hair, which was almost see-through in the light. His deep blue eyes gave a cutting gaze, as cold and piercing as a glacier. But most of all, Izuku's eyes were drawn to the blazing ruby attached to the men's chest.

Golden armor was fused to the man's pale skin, so pale Izuku thought that the man must have been sick. But somehow, looking at the shine and inhuman radiance in the man's expression, Izuku could only feel awe. He was thin, but made of lean muscle, leaning forward slightly.

A tattered red cape flew from his shoulders, floating haphazardly in the midday sun. He wore a round earring from his left ear, which was engraved with an image of the sun (possible connection with his quirk?).

In his hands he held a shining lance of purest gold, which he twirled absentmindedly.

And of course, he was much taller than him.

Izuku gulped. Everything about the man should say hero, but no hero ever had a costume like that— it looked more like some type of medieval cosplay, with the spikes. Not to mention the spear whose edge was sharpened to perfection.

That wasn't a tool used to neutralize Villains. It was an instrument of battle.

"Are you alright?" Again, Izuku was surprised by the voice. It was both harsh, and cold. There was no passion in it, but yet it had a surprising cadence, and Izuku was utterly convinced that no lie would ever be uttered with such a tone.

"I—I–I am, sir!" he managed to squeak out.

"That's good." The man said, before Izuku had a chance to ask any questions. He looked at Kacchan, and then nodded.

"Your courage is admirable," he continued, and Izuku's jaw dropped.

"What the fuck are you saying," Kacchan snorted, raising his head into the air, "the useless Deku would have gotten himself killed."

"Useless?" The man asked, but it wasn't a question, "You should watch your tongue, child. Such worthless pride will only lead to your demise, and your 'Deku', was it?"

Izuku didn't like that he felt joy watching Kacchan's face fall. Regardless, the fiery hero continued, "He stepped in when no one else would. It does not matter if he is useless, as you describe him, but only that he had the will to save you. That in itself is admirable, for is it not better to judge the worth of a man when he is powerless?"

It was hard to place, but the man's Japanese was… archaic, for lack of a better word. He used old vocabulary, and avoided contractions, and seemed to take extreme importance in speaking in a formal manner.

Seeing Kacchan's shocked face, the man nodded. "Consider your actions, child. Think of what you would have done if you were in your friend's place, without any of those explosions I witnessed."

His gaze was sharper than that of his spear. "Tell me that you would have placed even a single step forward, knowing that you might have died. Tell me that, and I will retract my previous statement."

"You—YOU!" Kacchan retorted, and Izuku was about to speak up, before the man cut them both off.

"Let it be said. Courage is not about the strength to push forward— it is going on when you lack any strength." And with those passing words, the man turned, moving to leap away.

And Izuku spoke up. Because he wanted to know— this was a new hero, maybe a debut, but the man's words rung in his head. The other heroes, Kamui Woods and Mount Lady, hadn't stepped in, instead hanging their heads in shame.

"We're waiting for the hero with the right quirk!"

It seemed that the effect the man's words had was universal.

"Can… Can you be a hero without a quirk?"

Izuku waited for the no, and the returning feeling of despair when the man turned to face him.

"I do not see why not."

"I under— what?!" Izuku squeaked out, barely able to contain his surprise.

Once more those blue eyes fell on him. "There was a boy, a man I once knew. He had the same eyes as you did."

"E–eyes?"

"He was born sickly, without the strength to live any longer than a few years. But when his friends were in danger, he sacrificed life and limb in a desperate attempt to protect them."

"What happened then?" Izuku asked.

"A hero saw the boy's courage, and was so moved by it that he passed his own power to the boy."

"You mean giving someone else your quirk?" Ok, that was not something Izuku could ever expect. The crowd was surprised though, and he could see some of them moving forward in curiosity, finally getting over their initial fear.

The man raised an eyebrow, but continued, "Using the power, even at the risk of his body, the boy fought for those he loved."

Izuku noted the past–tense with a dry mouth.

"At the end, he faced me, and won."

"W–what?! I mean, you must be pretty strong, right!?" And why would they fight— they were heroes!

"Tell me, why do you wish to become a hero? Surely you know of the risks?"

"Because I want to help people! Ever since I saw All Might, I wanted to save people like he did!" All he ever wanted to do was be a hero, but Izuku didn't understand why that mattered.

A smirk fell on the man's face (Izuku should really find out his name). "I became a hero to repay my father. He gifted me this flame, this radiant authority. If I, blessed with such power, did not become a warrior, then I would never have been able to live with myself."

"Huh?" Izuku didn't understand.

The man sighed. "It would have been an insult to all those who never received such blessings. That is the answer I reached— such as I was gifted, I must repay an equal sum. Only then will my karna be equal."

Izuku's jaw dropped. "But, that… "

"It is not selfless, no. It is selfishness that moved me to do such a thing. I perhaps could have lived a comfortable life, free from bloodshed and the violence of the battlefield, but I devoted myself to the arts of a warrior, and took up arms." The man returned his gaze to Izuku. "Others might call me a hero, a saint of virtue, but I have never considered myself one. I am simply a man who does what he believes is his duty."

"So?" There had to be something else, like a moral.

"You simply wish to help people, even though you never received any gifts," he said, as his eyes flickered to Kacchan, who looked pissed, "I saw it then, the spirit of a warrior who has something to protect. That courage in your heart is all you need."

…All you need. The words echoed in Izuku's head, and he could feel tears pooling at the edges of his eyes. "Thank you— thank you!"

"-But!" The man looked to the sun, before meeting Izuku's eyes head on. "There is a thin line between courage and foolishness. Surely, there are people who care about you. What would they say when you gave your life to a boy who calls you 'useless'? How would they feel?"

"...They would be sad." That was an understatement.

"I am not admonishing you, rather I am only pointing out the hypocrisy in your beliefs, child. Before you act, first think, and resolve yourself to your actions, so that you do not regret them; and when you face the results, you can say you are happy."

Izuku nodded wordlessly.

"Then I wish you luck."

As he turned to leave, Izuku called out.

"W–wait…What's your n–name?"

His head tilted back slightly, and he answered.

"Karna."

And with a burst of flame, he was gone, soaring into the sky. Izuku could hear Kacchan yelling, could hear the other heroes rushing forward along with the paramedics, but he ignored them.

His dream was possible. His dream was possible.

Karna sighed as he adjusted his jacket, pulling up the collar slightly. He quickly scanned the rest of the alley, and when his eyes could not see any hidden watchers, he let himself fall against the wall.

He did not know why he had been called to this world, not when he had lost the War. He didn't even have a wish!

But even then, his body had moved. He had heard the calls for help, and even though reason ordered him to hide, to find information about this foreign place, he had acted.

Of course, the results themselves were decent. This world had some form of meta–powers, which he was sure weren't related to Magecraft. These 'Quirks' were simply the result of some evolution in the future, judging by the date on the newspaper he held in his hand. The Grail had not supplied any info on this time period, which meant this was not a Grail War.

A world of Heroes and Villains. Never would he imagine such a thing, nor was it his calling. He might have acted as a Hero in that moment, but he would never judge based on such labels.

Both were warriors, at least according to whatever information he could pry from the articles on Villain Attacks and Hero responses. If one is a warrior, then to Karna it did not matter what you fight for. He had no right to pass judgment the moment he had declined Krishna's request to fight with the Pandavas.

What man denied the wish of the Protector of Dharma himself, all for a friend who Karna was in the wrong. Oh, Karna knew. He knew of the foolishness and sickly pride that lay in Duryodhana's eyes, and how he had indulged it.

To raise sword and bow, to face his brothers in battle– Karna how he had sinned.

Karna's fingers brushed his neck, feeling the golden band mounted there. If he moved just a little, he could feel it, an arrow, soaring through the air, piercing through soft flesh and cutting the nectar of life in a single strike.

For just a second, Karna recalled his greatest failure. Remembered his cursed battle with Arjuna, of Astras and divine might unleashed. How he had relished it, even knowing his death was approaching.

He had decided a long time ago; if he and Arjuna fought, only one would live. That was the promise he had made to his mother.

He had forgiven Arjuna a long time ago. The man was everything Karna had hoped to be— brave, virtuous. A true paragon of a King and Archer, in all manners.

Karna had killed Arjuna's son. He had disrobed his wife. And yet…

Arjuna refused to kill him in cold blood. He had refused until Krishna had reminded him of his sins, and even then, Karna recalls his face.

Karna had thought there would be hatred in his eyes. Maybe some anger, buried deep within the man's calm visage. Anger towards the killer of his son. Anger towards Duryodhana's most staunch supporter.

But all he saw was…

Hesitation. Fear. Regret.

And when the wicked truth was revealed, Arjuna had not cursed Karna's name— he had cursed Kunti's, raged against ignorant pride, of both mother's and son's.

If Karna would have ever asked for a wish, he would have asked to meet Arjuna once more. To tell his brother that he was sorry.

"Can you be a hero without a quirk?"

He hadn't intended to stay that long, but something about the green–haired child's plea had stirred something within his soul. It had reminded him of himself, in a way; of a boy who had always aspired to be more.

For a second, he had thought he had seen a child crawling up the steps to the ashram, foolishly tricking a Sage to teach him. He had seen that blazing hope of youth, yearning so desperately for something so far out of reach.

So he had indulged the child, but not without warning.

He did not want to let such ambition be twisted into simmering hatred, like Duryodhana's had so long ago.

(He did not want to see himself, to see Icarus, fly into the Sun.)

But for now, he was left without purpose. He had always followed the whim of another (his greatest fault), regardless of right or wrong.

He was simply a soldier.

He was a warrior, whose duty was to fight.

And he had failed at the end.

(He had given his armor to Indra. He had promised Kunti not to hurt her sons.)

At the end of the Great Holy Grail War, he had told Sieg that Heroic Spirit's purpose was to guard the wishes of the future.

It was a worthy purpose.

And like that, the son of Surya & Kunti once again rose into the sky.

Karna entered the ice cream parlor, ignoring the gasps that came from his presence. Now, why was he here?

The answer was simple: he needed a job. He needed money to live— while being a Heroic Spirit removed the need for food, he had found that he had a limited supply of prana. While being in sunlight provided him a large amount, he would need more to truly use his full strength.

Caution dictated that he do so, if he even used it.

And to get food, he would need money. He wouldn't steal; his pride prevented it.

Turning to the counter, he opened his mouth. "Excuse me, but would you have a job opening?"

Dead silence. The lady behind the counter had frozen, gaping at him in surprise. He sighed, pinching his nose in frustration.

Was his appearance so odd? From his research, there appeared to be mutant quirks that would be far more distracting than his white hair and pale complexion— he wasn't even wearing his armor!

In its place, he wore a red scarf, a black jacket and shirt, along with gray pants and formal dress shoes. Completely regular clothes, the perfect blend of casual and formal wear. Oddly enough, they had been gifted to him when he entered this world, through some strange turn of luck.

Whoever had sent him here had wanted him to be prepared.

"My name is Karna," he added, trying his best to smile. Duryodhana had once told him that he scared others, though Karna was unsure how.

"Karna," the lady began, mouth opening and closing.

He nodded.

"And you want… a job?"

He nodded again. If there was anything he had, it was patience.

"Aren't you a hero?"

"I do not understand the nature of your statement," Karna answered, "Verily, I need to support myself, and a job would be the best way."

She looked at him once more, eyes wide. "Doesn't the HSPC… pay you?"

Ah. Karna had heard about that. He was unsure why he had not been branded a vigilante, but it was best not to bring attention to that small tidbit.

He told the truth instead. "No. As I stated before, I do not raise my blade for promises of gold. I do it because it is right; verily, if I was a soldier, I would accept such compensation, but I am not."

"... I see." She didn't appear convinced, which he would need to rectify later.

Karna did not believe that the actions he did deserved any payment— all he had done was offer a helping hand.

"Well then, do you have an ID?" she asked awkwardly, fidgeting in place.

"I do." he said, handing her his driver's license. Once again, whatever power had dumped him here had seen it fit to make sure he was well accustomed to stay for quite some time.

Karna was familiar with the concept of reincarnation; and that of the multiverse, and a part of him wondered if this was his.

"It would be a way for me to atone for my sins," he thought idly.

"Enji Fubuki," she said, looking at him.

Karna nodded. He did not know why that name was chosen for him, or its significance.

"Very well then, Fubuki–san. You are hired."

He nodded. "May I have your name then?"

She blinked. "It's Megumi Sae." After a second, she added, "You can call me Megumi, though."

"Megumi," he said, testing the word, "It is a good name."

Her face turned red as she stared at him, and he could hear giggles in the parlor. He hid a sigh; it appeared this would follow him no matter where he went.

Karna had not ever placed much value in love; he had a son, who he loved dearly, but at the end, it was Arjuna who raised him. Arjuna who taught his son how to shoot, how to fight, when Karna had killed the light of Arjuna's eyes.

Karma was a cruel, fickle thing. And Karna had no interest in letting others get entangled in his troubles.

"Would you mind showing me what to do, Megumi?"

Now that he was closer to her, he noted her appearance. She was a woman of modest beauty— not like the princesses he had glimpsed during his past life, but perhaps it added more splendor to her appearance.

She was earnest, and all the more open— like a spring breeze blowing through an open door. Brown hair pulled into a bun, and light, almond eyes that glowed ever so slightly with pride when she handed scoops to customers.

She, Karna thought, would be a splendid wife. For him, a man who could glimpse through facades and lie so well in life he had been awarded the skill Discernment of the Poor as a Heroic Spirit, such a thought was the truth.

She was gentle in the way he remembered his adoptive mother to have been, too removed from positions of ambition to wish anything but for some mundane happiness for her children or friends. But at the same time there was a hidden strength within her meek frame, the kind that is only cultivated by a life of hard work and challenge.

He decided then that she would be a fine woman to pledge his loyalty too.

"If any accident should befall you, Megumi, all you must do is ask of me, and I shall do my best to resolve it." He said, "If you require anything, just ask."

Megumi gasped as she ducked her head. The customer at the head of the line, an old lady grinned.

"Now, Megumi–chan, you've got quite a fine man here," the grandmother said, "Why don't you let him help?"

"Of course," she said, recomposing herself, "Enji, can you help Chiyo–san?"

Karna nodded, picking up the ice cream scoop like he had seen Megumi do.

"What flavor would you like, Chiyo–san?"

"Vanilla."

"How many scoops?"

"Two, and add some sprinkles." She winked at him as he handed her the finished cup, handing the cash to Megumi, who rang her up at the register. "Thank you, young man."

"It is an honor to be able to help, Chiyo–san," he replied. He felt satisfied with the interaction.

Turning to Megumi, he suddenly felt that he should ask her for her thoughts.

"Megumi, if you would not mind me asking, was that satisfactory?"

She giggled at his question, and Karna wondered what was so amusing about his query.

"You did good," she said, "but pay attention; the customers are waiting."

"I see."

At the end of the day, Karna found himself enjoying the job. He had been able to meet a wide variety of people.

Some of them asked about his quirk, to which he answered that it was fire. Some wanted autographs, which was new.

He still signed all of them with a pen Megumi gifted him. She said it was a signing bonus.

Above all, he had found an apartment to rent.

Now that he was situated, he could finally start figuring out what he wanted to do in this world.

When Megumi got home to her apartment, threw her keys haphazardly on the kitchen countertop, she finally let the events of the day sink in.

She had met the Karna! All of her friends were talking about him— the mysterious hero with a quirk like Endeavor's, who had swooped in to save the day when no one else would.

A part of her shivered in excitement as she remembered his words. He was so honest, so open, that she had hired him on the spot.

Enji— Fubuki-san, she corrected herself, was far too good at his job. Of course, he had left the shop after a single shift, to which a customer had remarked, "He's going on patrol? And not even asking for a single Yen?"

She had nodded her head, because of course Fubuki–san seemed to view payment as unnecessary. He was like one of those old–fashioned heroes from the time before quirks, always so observant and gentle.

And what kind of hero name was 'Karna? The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't place where she had heard it before.

She had gotten his phone number as well. A part of her wanted to text him, and the other part of her said it was a horrible idea.

She hadn't even eaten, and she was already thinking about this mysterious man! What would her parents think? The shift was easy, because Enji was there— he was fast and strong, able to do the work of two men without breaking a sweat.

The customers loved him, especially the children.

At the end, she gave in.

Hey, Fubuki–san. This is Megumi.

A minute later, he responded.

Hello, Megumi. You can call me Enji if you want.

She gaped. This was moving much too fast.

Isn't that…?

I never liked such terms. I suppose my viewpoint would be more Western, then.

Oh! I see, you studied in another country?

There was a brief pause before he answered.

I learned and grew up in India.

Wow! How come you moved to Japan then?

This was getting awfully personal… she didn't even know him that well!

Something happened.

Ah, I'm sorry if I bothered you… that was a little personal…

It's fine. I don't mind telling you about myself.

How come? You're being really candid…

Honesty has always been my virtue. At least, I try to make sure it is.

Megumi chewed her lip.

A lot of heroes aren't really forthcoming with this kind of information…

I don't fear villains learning where I came from. It doesn't change a thing, if that's what you're worried about. And I trust you, Megumi.

She blushed. Why was always so damn honest?

You're really straightforward, you know?

I have been told that.

I'm disturbing you, aren't I?

Megumi.

Her eyes widened. There is some sense of power behind that single text.

I said honesty was a virtue, and between lord and servant, there should be no lies. You must be clear with me; do not speak in veiled statements— it only does you a disservice. I would not have agreed to work in your store if I did not approve of you, and the little time in which I have known you, you have only impressed me. It is the hallmark of a fool to discredit yourself, so do not do that.

Now she realized why he sounded so weird— he didn't sound like a hero, he sounded more like a soldier. Like some form of general.

And the way he spoke was so formal— 'Lord and servant'?

I get it, Enji! You're really so formal all the time.

It was taught to me by my father.

Father? He was the one who you inherited your flame quirk from, right?

That is correct.

I just have a minor quirk— it lets me sense emotions if I activate it.

A pause.

That is a wonderful ability. Do not discredit yourself, like I said before. Such an ability is not 'minor'- and I am unsure where you received such descriptions from. It would allow you to discern truth and lies, to understand intent if used correctly. If you wish, I could help you train it.

Really…?

Did I not say that all you need to do is ask?

I thought that was just hyperbole…

I do not make such empty statements— my words are the truth, right or wrong.

Megumi finally figured out what it was that had irked her about Karna— it was his pride.

You're really confident, you know?

I know the consequences of my actions, hence I do not lie. There is no point in deluding myself with false promises and scenarios.

Like you told that kid?

A pause.

What I told him was the truth— the only obstacle in his way is himself. If he wishes to be a hero, then I shall not hinder him. It matters not what one fights for, but their conviction. That is what judges a warrior— faith in their cause; if they do not believe in one, they will fail.

You sound like you have personal experience… ?

There was a long pause, where Megumi had thought that Enji had gone offline. He was a hero, after all— maybe he was on patrol.

Until her phone beeped.

I do.

(She did not know that of all heroes, Karna knows what not having faith in a cause is. He had fought a hopeless war because of his pride. He had been doomed to lose from the very beginning, but perhaps if he fought just a little bit harder, pushed more, he could have won.

But he never says this, because he is a soldier, and a soldier fights for their lord. Duryodhana had shown him kindness first, so he fought for him.

Yet he still listened to his mother, the mother who had abandoned him.

Because at the end, Karna is human. He does not question, he instead obeys.

When Kotomine had told him to eliminate Ruler, he had obeyed.

That is the type of man he is.

He thinks his fatal flaw is pride.

It isn't.

It's loyalty— the same kindness that earned him the title of Hero of Charity was the same that killed him.)

A/N: Yes, a fate/BNHA crossover. This was all very spontaneous, if you catch my drift. Karna has always been one of my favorite characters, but I feel he wasn't done justice- he too has his fair share of regrets, all though he is satisfied with his fate.

In regards to the Ice Cream shop- guess who's going to visit it after cleaning a beach, or after seeing videos of him circulating on the internet? Karna has already made one change, and that's by taking to Izuku. He sees himself there, a boy desperate for validation that Duryodhana gave him. And his honesty about his situation- this is

Karna, whose whole thing is 'I do not tell lies'. He's open, to an extent.

The opposite of Fate's Arjuna in that regard. Megumi isn't going to be a romantic interest, don't worry. She's just there for Karna to vibe with, and also for her to slowly freak out about how weird this new hero is. (Surprise, she's already wondering!)

And as for why the HSPC didn't say he was a vigilante... we'll see...

Thank you for reading! I'll continue this if you guys want, so tell me what you think!