Trigger Warning:
- dismemberment
Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.
A famous proverb from Aristotle, though other cultures definitely have similar messages.
In Japanese, its equivalent is, "Peach and chestnut seeds take three years to bear fruit; persimmons take eight."
And given that September marks the start of persimmon-harvesting season, I anticipate a banquet of sweets.
Oh, imagining that scrumptious custard purin waiting for me in the refrigerator makes me salivate.
I reminisce over all the events it took to reach this stage of sweet, sweet revenge.
After the clandestine meeting with the Eight Precepts of Death was over, Shigaraki and I had to relay everything to the rest of the team. But before that …
Shigaraki pulled me aside in a dark, narrow alley. "Explain more about the vaguely spun plan you whispered back there," he ordered none too kindly as he removed the plaster hand from his face. "Time was not on our side, and I chose to take you on it when I accepted that bastard's terms. Full story now."
I sighed in an effort to control my temper. The housefly flitting about is not helping. "I think that Chisaki-sama only revealed half of his plan."
"Don't give that bastard any respect!"
"All right, I believe that Overhaul only told us part of his plan. He would have been a fool had he done otherwise."
And so I narrated my analyses and deductions. If Chisaki-sama had made a drug that would erase quirks, he must have made a countermeasure, too. A drug that would restore them. He mentioned that trials were still in progress, implying that if he received more funds, he could organize proper lab equipment and personnel. That was why he asked me to get him in contact with Hanada-sama. Though Chisaki-sama claimed to resent the existence of quirks, he acknowledged their usefulness when they suited him. It was not farfetched to assume that he had quirk-enhancer drugs on hand as well.
Chisaki-sama with three kinds of drugs and a business offer … Hanada-sama with his influences and stability in the hero industry … me with my diplomatic skills acting as the intermediary … all of us were greedy corporates. We seized any opportunity we deem profitable, no matter whether it was right or wrong. 8 "I do not claim to be above Overhaul. Make no mistake, I loathe him as much as you and the rest of the League. But I can praise my enemy's talents and wit. An opportunity is an opportunity, regardless of who grants it. Those bullets are riveting. 80% of the world population possess quirks. With these bullets, the world market could be monopolized. Money means power. And with that power, we can crush the empire of heroes to dust." I glanced at Shigaraki and smiled when he muttered how terrible of a pun that was.
If the removal drug could be likened to a poison, and the restoration drug to an antidote, then I speculated that Chisaki-sama intended to sell the poison to the villains and the antidote to the heroes. Both parties could purchase the enhancer bullets as an extra source of income. Hanada-sama engaged with the mafia before; he would not hesitate to do so again. And as the influx of money would shower like rain upon us, the yakuza would emerge from the shadows to reclaim their lost power once more.
"There is just one stipulation," I commented. "I do not intend to let Overhaul or my adoptive father meet each other." He made no sound, not comprehending what I meant by that statement. I twirled a dagger between my fingers. "Yes, I am contradicting myself. But we have been backstabbed once. And it will happen again." Then I threw that dagger at that pestilent little fly. The blade and the corpse both lodged in the wood framework. "So before they can cheat us once more, we will betray them. The League of Villains reaps all profits. Not the yakuza, not my father. I lied to him for the sake of our revenge."
With that, Shigaraki took a step back and laughed. He raked a hand through his shaggy hair. "You thought all of that in such a short period of time and under all that stress. That's brilliant and all, but how are we going to go 'reap all the profits?' Does it have something to do with that warning you gave the bastard?"
I told him everything I had learned. Midoriya-san and one of the upperclassmen were on patrol when by chance they encountered Chisaki-sama and a girl who he claimed to be his daughter. Rumors were that the girl had bandages wrapped around her appendages, was wearing a hospital gown, and appeared visibly terrified. Knowing the heroes, they would meddle into this affair. "The Pro-Heroes and police will not waste much time in organizing troops and creating a search warrant. With that in mind, why should we shoulder the burden? Those heroes will storm in, fight Overhaul and his subordinates, arrest them … all in an effort to rescue the little girl. If either the heroes or the yakuza fall, then all the better for us! If both fall, then excellent news! Because in both cases, we exact our vengeance with relative ease. Also, this is simply my intuition, but I think that girl has a pivotal role in the drugs."
"How long do you estimate the whole ordeal will take?"
"By the end of the month, at most. I would have offered myself in place of Twice, Toga, and Kurogiri, but I could not afford to miss too many days of school." As an afterthought, I add, "Oh! Speaking of those three, you will be narrating everything that happened to everyone." Before Shigaraki could protest stubbornly, I explained, "You are the leader of the League of Villains now. All for One entrusted his legacy to you. So you must be the one to rally them together."
He grumbled, "Sometimes, I love how sharp you are. Other times, I hate it."
I smirked. "And what is it you feel right now?"
"Both," he glared. "Come on. Let's get something to eat before we break it to them."
I shrugged and followed him out of the alley. "Fair enough. After all, you narrowly avoided being shot, and I barely escaped being demolished."
It was not only myself who felt guilty of what happened to Magne and Mr. Compress. Twice blamed himself for inviting Chisaki-sama at all. And Toga did not like doing things she found unpleasant. So it was not easy to convince them to play pretend. Join the yakuza, hide their intentions, bide their time, and strike when the moment was right. After Shigaraki detailed everything that occurred and our plan of action, Twice and Toga revolted. Especially Twice. For the first time, he pulled off his face mask. Shortly after, Toga leveled her knife besides Shigaraki's jugular. I was worried a moment that Shigaraki would disintegrate her.
However, I should have given him more credit. Rather than loosing his cool, he simply removed his face plaster hand again and smiled. "For my sake and all of yours," he replied to their valid questions. "You see, they're looking to hamper the mobility of the League. And I'm sure that they'd like to win you over, seeing you all as useful to their cause. They want to pull you in from the outside and subjugate you. From the very beginning, they haven't viewed us as equals. Twice, I told you to take responsibility for your actions, didn't I? Well, this is how you do it." And finally he told the group all the conclusions I had reached. Their raptured attention was commendable. Giran's presence during all of this was not. When he leered at me with a cigarette between his teeth, I wanted to pull it out of his mouth and burn his eyes with it. Then again, he was helping Mr. Compress with his prosthesis, so I could not hurt a benefactor.
But cigarettes are nasty.
Persimmons are not.
Toga and Twice did their duties wonderfully.
The battle at the stronghold of the Eight Precepts of Death has terminated. The yakuza lost, the heroes prevailed, not without casualties on both sides. Toga and Twice failed to retrieve the girl. Well, most is better than nothing. Our prime target is heading in our direction. That is the true prize.
I am skipping school just for this moment, so my sacrifice better not be in vain.
The truck jolts to the side as a sharp turn appears. I am thrown to the other side from the impact, crashing into Mr. Compress, who is currently on the phone with Toga. Briefly he deviates from the call to inquire whether I am all right. Murmuring a feeble statement, I crawl back. Spinner's driving skills are only good in video games. Not reality. My stomach churns. My appetite disappears. Earlier, I had finished my thermos of milk. Now I have to stifle the urge to vomit. Dabi seems to be doing the same. And Shigaraki is doing splendidly. From the roof of the truck, a familiar hoarse voice shouts at the driver to ease up on the turn. Why Shigaraki thought it would be a brilliant idea to sit on the roof in broad daylight on the highway is beyond me.
The back doors of the truck open. The entourage transporting our target is in direct sight. The police are transporting Chisaki-sama and the ten other yakuza to the villain hospital in Takodana. At least, that was their plan. But we the League are here to interfere.
"Simply put …" I hear Shigaraki drawl from above. "In shogi, all you have to do is take the opponent's king, right?"
"It ain't as simple as that," Dabi mutters as he and Mr. Compress take their positions. The driver of the first police car slams on the breaks and skids. Spinner makes no attempt to stop to do the same. This time Dabi is the one to call him out on his dangerous driving skills. "Hey, lizard! You're swerving all over. I get carsick easily."
It backfires. "DON'T CALL ME LIZARD! MY NAME'S SPINNER!" The acceleration of the van rises, and there is nothing for me to grasp for support. "AND YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH MY AWESOME DRIVING SKILLS I LEARNED FROM GAMING?!"
"The hell you getting mad for. Such a pain."
"What does attacking the police have to do with creating a 'true hero society?' Are we really following Stain's will? I'm just not sure about this!" Oh, right. I nearly forgot that was why Spinner allied with us in the first place. Why most of them did.
Shigaraki interrupts the conversation. "It's a necessary sacrifice, Spinner. Take care of the driving." Take care of my stomach!
Dabi launches a whirlwind of blue flames in the direction of the car. It is so hot that even though I am sitting far behind him, I have to cover my face. With that high of a temperature, the car should melt immediately. But as the flames dissipate, I am shocked to see that it did not. A thick layer of burnt sad protects the windshield and engine. The Pro-Hero responsible for that gets out of the car and charges for Dabi.
"A hero!" Shigaraki mocks. "Of course you'd be here! What a bother!" Then, the sarcasm vanishes. "SPINNER! DECELERATE!"
The sudden drop in speed jolts me again. The distance between the car and the truck shortens, causing a crash. This time there is nothing to cushion me. The sandman barrages the interior of the van with his fine rock. So along with stars in my vision, sand fills my mouth and clothes. Disgusting! I did not make excuses at school just to face this kind of treatment!
As I choke the sand out of my mouth, Shigaraki leaps up and behind the sandman. The only thing he manages to disintegrate are sand particles. "My natural opposite," I listen to him remark. He lands on the roof of the police car. A planned distraction. Because the real offense is made by Mr. Compress. He tosses a marble, and the moment it lands below the car, he releases his quirk. A boulder erupts, tossing the car and Shigaraki into the air. Shigaraki hovers in midair and changes angle to decay through the windshield and the driver. The boulder's role isn't finished, either. It continues tumbling along the highway, upturning every vehicle in its path. Like dominoes, the assemblage of motor vehicles fall. A series of accidents. And the automobile holding the prize target crashes last.
With a newfound vigor, Spinner swerves the truck a full one-hundred-and-eighty degrees. Ten bleeding hells and all their fallen saints! Have some care for the disabled!
Dabi skips out of the truck and walks toward the sandman with his back turned, flames alight in both palms. "Heroes always rush to save the lives of others first," he coos sadly. The sandman comments about a series of burnt bodies being found across Tokyo City. Dabi takes it in stride. "Am I making the news? Nice, I'm thrilled." Sandman turns around and unleashes a lion of rock particles. He scorns if Dabi ever thinks about his victims' families? I, for one, never cared about the families of the ones I killed. Dabi unleashes another surge of flames. It is a direct hit. The lion wafts into nothingness, and Mr. Compress captures the hero and flames in one of his marbles. Sandman is dead.
And finally, the torture of being thrashed about ends. Spinner parks the truck. Now what I really came here for will occur. The fruit of patience. Sweet revenge. After stumbling out the truck and retching some distance away, sensations of hunger rumble within me, so I summon a container of chopped persimmons and a fork to savor this moment. The three men pull a restrained Chisaki-sama out of the collapsed van. I step out once the dust and smoke have cleared a bit.
"So, you thought you were gonna be the 'next overlord,' huh?" Shigaraki taunts.
Chisaki-sama does not take the bait. Instead, his eyes reveal pure and utter defeat. Despair. "Did you come here to kill me?" Though he cannot see me yet, I relish his pain as much as the persimmon.
"Nope! I actually thought up something you'd hate even more," Shigaraki answers with childish glee. He takes the plaster hand off his face. "I hate you. I hate you because you're arrogant."
Mr. Compress leans over and snags Chisaki-sama's left arm in a blue orb. "Me too," he adds on as he removes his theatrical mask. That elicits a more conscious reaction out of Chisaki-sama. Although, he doesn't scream out of pain. That will have to change.
Meanwhile, Shigaraki rummages Chisaki-sama's pockets. Then he pulls out two cases. The cases with poison and the antidote. "Which one has the finished product? Ah well, guess it doesn't really matter?" A stronger sentiment is freed. Chisaki-sama uselessly orders to return the darts to him. Our apologies, but we have other intentions. Shigaraki squats to look Chisaki-sama in the eye. His fingers brush Chisaki-sama's remaining right arm. "You know, Overhaul, if you're gonna go the route of erasing others' quirks, then don't you think you shouldn't be relying on quirks yourself?" And the right arm decays to dust. "Whoops!" he squeals unapologetically. He brandishes a knife. "If we don't cut that off, your entire body'll be reduced to dust!" Both arms are now separated from above the elbow. Best of luck growing them back. "Now you're the powerless and helpless 'quirkless man!'"
Normally, I would be dismayed by Shigaraki's immaturity. But right now, I am not. I feel the same vindictive, infantile satisfaction. That oh so sweet flavor of vengeance exacted properly. To hell with everyone who believes that revenge is not worth it. They simply do not have the heart or the smarts to conduct it properly.
And that is why when a maniacal look enters Shigaraki's bloodred eyes, I am not afraid. "YOU DEVOTED YOUR ENTIRE LIFE TO CREATING IT! AND NOW IT'S ALL MINE!" The evergrowing expression of horror on Chisaki-sama's usually apathetic countenance makes it all so worth it. "YOU CAN'T EVEN LIFT A FINGER BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE ANY ANYMORE! ALL YOU CAN DO IS LOOK ON IN ENVY FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE! GOOD LUCK WITH THAT!"
Spinner urges us to hurry. So when Dabi, Mr. Compress, and Shigaraki depart the scene gloriously with spires of smoke and flame in the background, I approach Chisaki-sama to deliver one last blow.
Perhaps expecting a scream was not necessary.
The understanding that eclipses his eyes surpasses any words.
As I place the last of the fruit between his lips, I whisper, "Persimmons symbolize good fortune in all endeavors.
"My father will be visiting hell soon.
"You can partner with him there."
Note: I have copied some dialogue from one of the English-translated versions of the manga. The link to the chapter is here: .online/manga/boku-no-hero-academia-chapter-148/