Disclaimer: I do not own My Hero Academia or Fate/Stay Night
...
"I'd tell you to take better care of yourself but I feel you'd ignore my words regardless," said Recovery Girl as Shirou sat up, his wounds stitched together. "You could take some time to rest and recover but I know you won't. If you tear these wounds, know that I will not be the one to heal you."
"I expect no less," said Shirou, stretching his shoulders.
"I will make the bold assumption that Eraser Head will allow your class a couple days of rest, he's probably proud of all your performances but won't say anything," said Recovery Girl as Shirou got to his feet. "He's stubborn like that, like somebody else whose name I won't mention."
Shirou chuckled lightly as he made his way to the door. "I'll try to stay away from here."
"Make sure that you do!"
Shirou exited the infirmary, or at least tried to as he pushed the door open to find himself completely surrounded by members of the media who seemed to be waiting with baited breath. Slowly, Shirou closed the door, locking himself back in the infirmary with Recovery Girl. "Have they been waiting there the whole time?" he asked of the elderly nurse.
"Of course they have, they want to hear from the winner of the tournament regardless of what condition he is in. Do you think you're the only one who doesn't care about your wellbeing?" scoffed Recovery Girl. "They're ravenous, don't think you can get out of here without giving a statement."
"Right," said Shirou slowly before bringing in an intake of breath. Having spent as much time as he had in having kept to the shadows hidden from society, it felt odd that the press were right in his face ready to ask him questions. It was bizarre because he didn't have to hide anything really so long as he used their terminology.
Was it the right thing to do however? He contemplated thinking about what Rin would have him do in this situation but considering what he had said to her earlier, he felt as if it was his time to shake things up a little more.
Opening the door, Shirou stepped through before closing the door, separating him from his immediate way out. Thankfully the media were giving him a wide berth despite how large in number they were. "Now, I am willing to answer a couple of questions..."
The noise hit him hard and fast, almost impossible to distinguish who was saying what. Raising a single hand, he ushered for them to be quiet. It took a small amount of time but the message eventually was received and there was silence through the hall once more. As opposed to allowing them to bombard him with a cacophony of noise once more, Shirou merely indicated for a young female journalist in front of him to speak. "How much pain were you in going into the final bout?"
"Nothing I haven't dealt with before," said Shirou with a shrug. That was about as honest as he could be on the topic. He had fought through with a lot worse injuries than a hole through the stomach. He turned his eyes to another reporter and indicated for them to ask.
"Do you believe that you've sent a bad message to young children aspiring to be heroes by having fought in the final round without having received medical attention for your injuries?"
"I like to think that I may have shown a glimpse of what isn't widely publicized about being a hero," said Shirou. "No matter the damage they take, true heroes will do what is best for the people around them. Yet when they go home, when they are out of the public spotlight is when they are finally free to let it all go. Their pain, anguish, despair; all emotions which would tarnish their public image. Nobody truly knows how they act behind closed doors. Perhaps they bury their pain under large amounts of pain medication washed down with vodka? If you can prove me wrong then by all means do so."
The squeamish looks he was receiving told Shirou that he was dancing on a very delicate topic. Of course he was. The people of this world worshipped the vast number of heroes who made their lives safer. To paint them as mere humans was almost blasphemous. It was true though, after all the power and all the bravado, they were people no different than anybody else.
Quickly checking the time, Shirou spoke and broke the eerie silence that had swept over the reporters. "While I'm sure there are many more things that you would like to ask, I must get to class."
"But school is just about finished for the day..."
"I still have to teach my class before the day is done," stated Shirou. The look of confusion sent his way forced Shirou to continue. "I teach my peers one on one combat training on the side."
"So you're going to continue fighting despite the condition you are in?"
"If I was all that stood between yourself and a villain, would you want me to stop because of an injury?"
His words hung in the air as he made his way through the crowd, the flashing lights from cameras crashing against his face. He paid them no mind though. The fact there were likely more lessons to be taught before the day was done was his current priority.
...
As the final bell for the day sounded, the Class of 1-A took a moment to let the whole situation of the day sink in. The entire experience had seemed to go by so quickly that it was difficult for them to process everything that had happened. It also didn't help that one of their peers had had to go due to a family emergency, something which left a sour taste in the rest of the class.
The first to move from their seat just so happened to be the runner up of the tournament and the only person who had actually been able to receive their medal. To say that some of the class were surprised to see Todoroki actually walk to the front of the class and turn to face his peers. "Where does Shirou hold his class?"
The words seemed to weigh some manner of confusion amongst the other members of class. For the first few seconds, many of them wished to state that there was no chance that Shirou would conceivably be holding his lessons today. Then they had to remind themselves that this was Shirou that they were talking about. The man who had deliberately avoided medical assistance in order to combat Todoroki in the final. The odds of Shirou not waiting for them were unlikely and the punishment for opting not to go likely would put whatever suffering they went through today to shame.
"You guys aren't really thinking about going are you?" shouted Mineta, slamming his hands on the table. "We just had to go through so many hellish trials in front of the world and now you want to all go suffer some more? We deserve a break!"
Surprisingly, it was their homeroom teacher to speak in Mineta's defence. "You make a good point, and you all should know what your limits are. There will be times however when your limits will be pushed, they will be put to breaking point. Your mettle as a hero will be measured by how well you respond in situations that make you unable to perform at your peak. Some heroes are physically unable to handle certain situations; Kamui Woods for example cannot handle any situation where fire is involved without putting his own life at severe risk. Mount Lady can only be effective in wide open spaces. These are times when the help of other heroes are necessary."
"Then there are the times where all that is needed is your own determination to see it through," continued Aizawa. "Snipe for instance is a long range specialist, however he pushed himself to be capable of conflict at small distances in order to reduce his weaknesses. Every hero knows what they are and are not able to do. That doesn't mean that they are unable to better themselves in order to have the chance to save one more person."
With his piece being said, Aizawa made his exit, his words hanging over the class. Once the sound of footsteps had vanished, the class came to a single unanimous conclusion. It wasn't a difficult one, but it was one that would ensure an incredible amount of suffering.
...
"Remember, no quirks," declared Shirou, pacing between the pairs. "We are working on basics."
True to what Recovery Girl wished for him, Shirou was taking it easy, at least for this opening part of the session. At the moment there were three fights happening around him and the students were understandably nervous about having to combat one another without the use of their abilities. That being said though, none of them were going to question Shirou's methods.
Midoriya found himself panting as his opponent bounced off the floor. Understandably, Sero was more of a long range capture fighter, so getting up close and personal was something he was relatively unfamiliar with. It had been an unfair matchup from the get go but Shirou had done so deliberately. Both the other matches were set up in such a way with Asui struggling against Ashido and Sato manhandling Aoyama, the laser shooting student trying desperately to remain out of grasp.
"Sero, out. Kaminari, in," ordered Shirou, the students doing as instructed, with Midoriya bracing himself to face his new opponent. He continued to watch the combat around him play out, Ashido overexerting herself in what should have been a finishing blow and leaving herself open for a counter. Sato meanwhile had caught his slippery opponent and Aoyama was begging for his peer to strike him anywhere but the face.
Sato obliged and struck him in the sternum.
"Aoyama, out. Koda, in."
On and on, Shirou swapped the students in and out trying to make the contests as unfair as possible. When the victors started getting tired, he'd push in one of the stronger competitors to keep the contest as viciously one sided as possible. Life was unfair and he was pushing that thought right into the minds of his opponents.
It was in these unfair situations that upsets occur.
There was almost a collective gasp as Bakugo hit the ground, Tokoyami standing over him. "Now, what have learnt today?" asked Shirou of those watching, Bakugo wiping at his chin with the back of his hand.
"That we get tired you shit stain!"
"As Bakugo has kindly pointed out, yes, we all get exhausted whether it is after one fight or Midoriya's fourteen fight streak," said Shirou, the boy in question mildly blushing from the praise sent his way. "Stamina is not something which appears overnight, it takes months upon months of consistent effort in order to better yourself. Many of you before today may not have even been hit in such a long time."
A few people couldn't help but send a not so subtle glance at Todoroki, a bruise having formed on his cheek from where Shoji had struck him earlier. Shirou started pacing in front of everyone, his arms held behind his back. "You don't know what situations you are going to find yourself in, what condition you will have to keep going in. The tournament is one example of when you have to pick yourself up in whatever condition you were in to keep on fighting, regardless of what condition your opponent is in. You also have to consider that anything you show will be seen by everybody who is paying attention."
"Even if you aren't aware they are there."
With his final words said, Shirou looked upwards to where two people were standing in the support beams. While they may have looked momentarily shocked by having been discovered in the first place, it was nothing to the horror that some of the students had on their face at having their private lesson viewed. That was until they recognized the two people who had been watching.
The first one was easily recognizable as the upperclassmen, the only female member of the Big Three who had made themselves known when Shirou had fought against Mirio. The other was someone a little more famous, one whom Midoriya immediately recognized to the point his jaw literally dropped.
With their presence having been revealed, Nejire and her mentor Ryuko dropped to the floor safely with the assistance of Nejire's quirk. "I'm surprised you noticed we were here," she said as she walked towards Shirou, the rest of the first year students who had been on the floor battling one another moving to join their peers on the sidelines. Whatever conflict that came forward they wanted no part of it.
Why did they know there would be conflict? The answer was simple. Shirou was standing against one of the top ten heroes in the country. How could there not be a battle brewing?
"Regardless if I noticed you or not, this is a closed session for training practices and unless you have something valuable to teach then I will have to ask you to leave," said Shirou.
Ryuko shifted her gaze from where Shirou was standing to where the rest of his peers were lined up, Nejire having bounced over to join them. "You think that you can teach them more than I can?" she asked. Though she had never taught officially, taking care of Nejire at times couldn't be too dissimilar to trying to control an entire class. "I have far more real world experience than you have and could tell them of some of the issues they may confront in the day to day activities of a hero."
This was a game of bravado, it was clear to see. "Real world experience," repeated Shirou, scratching at his chin. In his current form, there was no way that Ryuko was little more than a decade older than him, if that. He had lived a lifetime in conflict and battle, doing his best to save as many as he could. He couldn't explain to her the wars he had walked through but he knew they had been far worse than anything she had ever suffered.
So, he did as he did and stepped on to the middle of the makeshift arena.
Ryuko turned to face him before chuckling. It was a simple play he made and one that she had to respond to. "I will not fight you," she said as she sauntered forward to stand opposite him. "You might have performed admirably, if not foolishly, in the competitions today but let me tell you; you are no match for me."
"Well then, you will grant me a single shot then, no swords or fancy weapons, just one punch is all," gauded Shirou. "Then if you think me worthy of retaliation or need to simply get some manner of feedback, I will take any blow you send my way."
Ryuko thought about it for a few moments, sending a single glance towards those watching. Were she to simply say no it would display some manner of weakness, that she was afraid to take a blow from somebody who shouldn't have actually competed in the final due to health reasons. Best case scenario, she simply stand her ground, take the blow and then give him a playful slap in the shoulder to show the difference in class.
So she accepted.
Then the next thing she knew her back was on the floor and she was gasping for air.
"That is what happens when you underestimate an opponent," said Shirou, addressing the other students who seemed to be at a loss of what had happened. He didn't blame them. As far as they were aware, he was somebody who had strength enough to wield around the weapons that he crafted with his quirk. The strength to launch a body across a surface, bouncing twice across the ground before was something that seemed impossible for someone with his ability.
He really needed to break them out of the stupor they found themselves in every time he did something unbelievable.
"Real world experiences," continued Shirou as he started to pace back and forth. "They are invaluable and something that cannot be constructed in this environment. In this academy they can try to simulate as many experiences as possible but that is all they are. Simulations. You need to take every opportunity to gaze at the real world and question what's happening beyond the limelight. The hero walks out on top, at what cost? Have they sustained injuries, are they having trouble breathing, do they need to seek immediate medical assistance? Do they even have the luxury to do so? Has another crisis arisen or have they yet to finish what it was they had started? These are questions that rarely get asked. You watch the hero walk out successfully and praise them for a job well done and that's all."
He let his words hang in the air as he turned his attention back to Ryuko, the member of the top ten whom he had fell with a single strike. He needed to break his peers' ideology of worship, the idea that people at the top were invincible. Nobody was unbeatable. He had watched true heroes from different etches of legend clash and there always had to be a victor, and there always had to be a loser. Watching somebody whose name was written in the very core of history, whose names would be remembered until the end of time, fall in battle was a terrifying thing to come to terms with.
Nobody was invincible.
Nobody.
Now he had to do something which he knew would cause more trouble than it was worth but he could already see some worship come his way and he needed to show that even he was not invincible. Taking off his shirt, for a few seconds he could see some looks of curiosity but he cared not.
The one thing about having been brought back into this point of life, this body that he had found himself in was that it wasn't the same as he had had at the age. He hadn't simply become a teenager again, he had found his body simply regress in age. Which meant that all of his battle wounds had come back with him.
All of them.
From the corner of his vision he could see Ryuko raise a hand to her mouth to cover the shock that was now very apparent on her face. Mineta had seemingly gone into shock, Midoriya had fallen backwards and Aoyama looked as if he was to expel whatever it was he had eaten for lunch. Nobody was unaffected by the wounds that he carried on his skin.
He imagined that many of them were gaping at the wound which he had first received, the first time he had come into conflict with a true hero. The wound which had pierced straight through his heart.
"Real life experiences," said Shirou slowly as one of his classmates successfully emptied their stomach, painting the gymnasium floor with bile. "In this profession you will suffer and suffer greatly, of that there is no doubt. Compared to this, I pray that each and every one of you never have to deal with what I have gone through."
Shirou felt that this was as good a time as any to call the lesson over for the day, making his way towards the exit, putting his shirt back on as he walked. He knew he had left them in shock and they would never verbally thank him for the lesson he had just taught them. It was a lesson that the academy likely never would have taught them despite the very obvious danger that the occupation brought with it.
As he exited the gymnasium, leaving all of his peers behind him, his phone started ringing. Pulling it out of his pocket and bringing it to his ear, he answered casually. "Hello, who is this?"
"Hello, Shirou, it's...it's Charming Clover," said the voice on the other side of the line.
It took him several seconds before he recalled the name as a member of the agency that he had gone to back before school had even begun. "Okay, Charming Clover, what's this about?" asked Shirou, wondering why she was calling him.
"It's Ingenium," started Charming Clover, taking a deep breath. "We need your help."
"Help?" repeated Shirou.
"Ingenium's in hospital, he's in a bad way," replied Charming Clover, sounding as if she was openly sobbing over the other side of the line.
"So what do you want me to do about it?" asked Shirou.
"This is...this is completely off any sort of record," said Charming Clover, desperation riddled within her voice. There was an off pause and Shirou could feel that what was going to be said next was something which wasn't being said lightly.
"We...we want you to kill Stain."
Shirou paused in his step, wondering if he had heard that correctly. When nothing was said that corrected him otherwise he took in a slow breath. This was clearly an act that had to go under the radar. He may have only been in this world for so long but criminals always had to be brought to justice and taken to prison as far as he could tell. The idea of the heroes of this world actively wishing death upon a villain was something he couldn't quite get his head around. Chances were that this was an overreaction to the fact something had happened to the head of the agency that they worked for. If he was to give them a day or two to cool their heads the request may very well be completely different.
There was one other thing on his mind though.
"Who's Stain?"
...
Hope you enjoyed.