This is one of my longest chapters to date. And honestly, with basically nothing to do recently, I've been writing a lot.
A Lot.
Hopefully, this chapter doesn't disappoint you.
-SpiritOfErebus
The streets were busy that day.
As Hans rode in the cab, adjusting the tie on the dress clothes that he normally wore as a hero costume, minus the lab coat-like piece and his signature black bowtie, he began to ponder…
Why was he doing this, again?
Sure, the speech had been said in irritation during the USJ, and also an innate desire to, well, stay alive. The speech after the USJ, however, was entirely of his own volition. That didn't actually cause the court case he was now somehow enrolled in as a witness, but it brought him immense social strife and antagonized even more of his class. What he did even set up some flags for unnecessary competitiveness during the upcoming Sports Festival among the gaggle of teenagers in 1-A.
"But I'm not a reformer…" Hans muttered. "I personally don't have the perseverance, or the wits, or… anything to sustain a movement. I just observe and speak. I don't actually, well, act, at all."
"This is a taxi, sir." the man driving his cab said, looking in the mirror back at Hans's contorted expression. "Are you… maybe… preparing for the case? This trip was paid for by the court, so…"
"Yeah, sure." Hans said, taking honestly any excuse that wasn't him thinking about the narrative prospects of both the current plot and his own character settings.
"...Can you put in a good word for those villains, then?" the cab driver said. "My daughter… she's the sweetest thing… but she's has those supposedly villainous quirks that, well, all of her middle school loves to just point out…"
Hans's gaze softened. He looked forward at the graying hairs of the man's oddly featherlike hair, and nodded.
"I used to want to be a law student, you know." the cab driver said, sighing. "But the flames of the industry… were too difficult… I transferred to psychology, and now I'm driving cabs. Anyways, you're not here to hear my life story, are you?"
"No, no." Hans said quietly. "I'd actually love to hear about it."
As the man rambled on and on about his tumultuous life, the ups and downs, and how a psychology degree was utterly useless in a country filled with disregard for mental health and identity issues like Japan, Hans looked at the bustling streets that flowed around the gray asphalt like blood pumping through blood vessels.
Every single one of these lives were unique, even if they were trapped in what was probably a manga series for a shounen. Everybody had a story. Whether it mattered to the narrative or not, however, was a different question.
Stories were cruel places. His stories were usually gloomy and gray, despite their somewhat fantastical settings. This shounen story was bloody and brutal, with lobotomized monsters and terrifyingly competent supervillains, and idealistic heroes looming over everybody else like the sword of Damocles. One little snip of the rope, and the blade would come plunging down.
And whether Hans liked it or not, this world was real. He lived in this world.
(It would go against everything in him not to tear down these fragile sheets and expose the hypocrisies that laid underneath.)
He waved goodbye to the driver, stepped out of the cab while flourishing his suit in an unnecessarily dramatic fashion, and adjusted his tie until it was straight and made his neck feel uncomfortable. It almost felt nostalgic to wear a suit again.
There was change to be made, and for once, Hans wasn't just staring at the aftermath of shattered empires, horrible life choices, and regrets coalesced into a spirit origin.
…
Wearing a tweed hat and a pair of glasses, a man in his thirties sighed as he passed before the rather ugly district court. Not being particularly photogenic, the building was filled with windows and brick.
Apparently, the court systems had not deemed it necessary to give themselves a new image after the emergence of quirks.
These places were pretty boring, honestly. The district courts were where divorce cases were reviewed, sometimes looked at bank fraud, and… generally flew beneath the notice of the media.
Now, however, it was hosting the review of a notorious villain case. Why this court was to be the setting of his last job, he didn't know.
But would this really be his last? Ten years ago, fresh out of whatever secret camp the Hero Association had built, he had built a name as the Airslash Villain: somebody that killed or maimed despite holding seemingly nothing.
Somebody that could, with a wave of his hand, disappear or become nearly invisible, before slinking off into the night. A near-perfect assassin.
His quirk, making objects invisible when he touched them, was much less exciting than his reputation let on. When they said that he had potential while leading him out of that orphanage, he was sure that they were disappointed.
Of course, most of his acts of violence were against targets that the Hero Association had deemed necessary to be gone, though not important enough for them to send out their trump card. Wayward, low ranking heroes abusing their authority. Some criminals that could only be found by having underground contacts. Fugitives. The lot.
Actual jobs for the association were few and far between, mostly being spaced months away from each other, which was why he tolerated the arrangement. During the day, he would live as a carefree mailman, with a fake life, fake parents, a fake school record, and being absolutely… and utterly… lonely. Fearful that if he left on a job that took a wrong turn, or, worse, exposed his identity, the shards of his faked normality would come crumbling down.
The only people that called him consistently were scam callers, and he had tried holding several conversations with them before they inevitably realized he wasn't seventy years old and hung up.
Imagine his surprise, then, when he was told that his restrictions would finally be over. The ticking time bomb that was his employment at the Hero Association would finally be over.
And all he had to do? Kill two targets. The first? One of the supposed villain reformees that would be present at the court. That wasn't that hard to comprehend. Maybe they really did deserve what was coming to them, attacking the USJ while students were inside.
The other one… was a bit more out of the ordinary.
Taking out his phone, he called his contact. They were the only one that he could actually contact on this mission.
"...Are you sure about this?" he muttered into the phone. "Isn't going for a student a bit out of line? What that kid said has a point, you know?"
"If you wish to end your employment, then do as you are told." the harsh voice said through a voice changer. "Air Slash, do you understand your role?"
"...Yes." he muttered, looking around at the crowd of bustling journalists to make sure nobody was paying attention. Surprisingly, the area closest to the journalists were where they paid the least attention, if it wasn't in front of their camera.
"Now, go to the only pink potted plant in that aisle." the contact said. "There, you will meet your co-operative."
Putting the phone down, he slowly walked towards a conspicuous pink potted plant. A petite woman was sitting on a bench by the place, also with a phone to her ear. Once spotting her, he waved before sitting down on the bench next to her.
"Verify operation number." the contact said.
"3341021." he said, blurting out the seemingly random codes that had been told to him through phone
"3345758." the woman replied.
"Who are you?" he said.
"Honey Jar." she said, "And you?"
"Air Slash." he replied dully. No names were said. The ones they were given were fake ones anyways, not that they remembered their original ones.
"Did they say the same thing to you? …Two?"
"Yeah." Honey Jar said vaguely, trying not to tip off the passerby. "Two. The blue one I didn't want to, well… but if it's for terminating the contract, then I guess it's worth it."
"I can't believe it." he muttered. "Ten years. I was expecting that they were saving us for some impossible mission, but they sent us on this?"
"They feel threatened," Honey Jar said. "Ideas are dangerous. You can see how even the thought of freedom is so very tempting for us. How we both were so desperate to leave everything behind that…"
They sat in silence, contemplating the deed they were about to do.
"...The contact said you had the chart," he said. "Can I see it? And Honey Jar was… the trapping villain, right?"
"I can limit the speed of any two people." she said. "And with my stingers over here…" she said, patting a side pouch. "They're pretty powerless to dodge."
"Let me get to turning those invisible…" he said. "Can I make a call first, though?"
"Sure." Honey Jar said. "Did you make a friend? We really can't, you know."
"It's just… a routine I have." he said, dialing a number. "Besides, after this, I may not be able to call them anymore, you know?"
"I suppose I can understand that. Fine. There's thirty minutes until the trial starts for the day." Honey Jar said. "Take your time."
"Hello. This is tech support, how may I help… Oh, come on, Konosora. Why now?"
…
"Hans!" Kirishima shouted, running up to him boisterously past a couple looking over a newspaper on a bench. The two shot nervous glances at him, before returning to their paper.
"You were called as a witness too, huh?"
"I was honestly surprised I got called at all." Hans said, shrugging. "You know, my extremely biased statements at that protest two weeks ago should have destroyed any chance I had at attending this case, but I'll take whatever opportunity I can get to stay out of hero classes."
"Hans. Ejiro." Ojiro said, stoically nodding. "Are you prepared for the trial?"
"Just say the truth of what you remember." Hans said. "If they really do try to spin your story in a different way, and, well, there's not much that can be done about lawyers. Just leave the rebuttal to me."
Somewhere, hidden in Hans's nonchalance, there was a little smirk.
"Hey, guys…" Sero said awkwardly, his suit specially modified to allow for his tape dispenser elbows to fit. The upper arm looked a little awkward, but it was probably the best he could have done.
But what made it awkward wasn't his suit. It was Hans.
The four stood in awkward silence,
Then, a shadow was cast over the group of witnesses congregating behind the crowd of media setting up camera equipment and preparing reporters to start their speeches in front of a good spot of the rather unimpressive building. The group turned to see a lengthy car slowly pull up on the slightly short curb, having to stop halfway through the curve and the curb in order to accommodate the full length of the vehicle.
The car door slowly opened, and a tall, imposi-
"Wait, is that you, Yaoyorozu?" Hans stuttered, recognizing a very prominent feature on the woman.
Her ponytail. What else were you thinking?
"Y-you're actually that rich?" Hans said, looking at the lengthy limousine and Yaoyorozu's expensive-looking attire. Even a single scrap of that silk could probably pay for some significant proportion of UA's slightly pricey admissions fee.
She stood, her statuesque figure and confident position only spoiled by her self-consciously twirling her hair.
In contrast to Yaoyorozu's indecisiveness, Hans shrugged before turning back to the court building. "It figures. Given all the arguments we had about budgeting and all that, it was foolish of me not to expect such lavish expenditures."
"T-this is simply formal attire." Yaoyorozu stuttered. "Besides, I-"
"Okay, okay." Hans said, trying to calm her down by extending a hand. "If nobody does anything flashy, we can probably walk past these journalists without attractions too much-"
"Ohohoho?" an irritatingly french voice said. "It seems like my sparkle has been reciprocated by your shining attire, Mademoiselle."
"Let's go." Hans said urgently, palming his pepper spray. He might end up needing it, after all.
"Why?" Kirishima said.
At that moment, the media's eyes glinted. Their cameras began to turn to face the students, and journalists began to step forward. Slowly at first, then almost at a speed that resembled sprinting. Despite their slightly absurd speed, they managed to keep a completely stable profile, no doubt born of endless practice chasing heroes for interviews.
"Yaoyorozu, make everybody pepper spray!" Hans screamed. "Sprint! By god almighty, sprint!"
By the time the heavy court doors were closed behind the students and the five began to pant heavily in the lobby, the media had somehow regrouped into their original positions.
"What the hell are they motivated by?" Kirishima muttered. "Their speed is as manly as hell, but why were they so-"
"Deadlines, my friends…" Hans wheezed, his body not really built for sprinting. "Deadlines."
…
Hans had walked, or, well, sprinted, into the building with noble aspirations. He was prepared to speak out. To try and overcome the bureaucratic questioning style that the lawyers doubtlessly employed.
He was not expecting to be summoned as a relatively unimportant witness due to him collapsing halfway through the battle.
"...And for the next witness, I would like to call… Yaoyorozu Momo…"
As Yaoyorozu nodded to a slightly sleepy Hans, stepped over Kirishima's legs, and awkwardly hoisted her dress over where Ojiro's tail lay, though, the door was slammed open.
"Chief! There's been an emergency!"
The whole court stood up. The on-site security officers perked up, their black, bulletproof jackets and reinforced helmets shining dully in the fluorescent lights.
The haggard police officer ran to the vice police chief, whispered in his ear, and said vice chief's expression completely shifted.
"You barged into this place… to tell me about a labor strike? From that stupid SDC organization that popped up just three days ago?"
"But the other police chief was found taking bribes. The other district needs you right now, vice chief!"
"I am needed here, at court." the police officer said firmly.
By now, the court had generally calmed down. Yaoyorozu slowly made her way up to the witness stand as the police chief was reluctantly dragged out by his junior officer.
"You stated that you are Yaoyorozu Momo of class 1-A at UA, correct?" the prosecuting lawyer said, a bit too much glee in his voice.
"That is correct, yes." Yaoyorozu said into the mic.
"And according to the testimony of others and the police reports, you were present when the Villains attacked, and when the defendants switched sides, correct?"
"Yes."
"Were the villains attacking you with the intent to kill?"
"I'd assume so." Yaoyorozu said, smiling politely.
"And can you please describe what happened when the villains switched sides?"
"Of course." Yaoyorozu said. "It was after Andersen-san collapsed due to a lack of energy. He was still conscious, however, and as I prepared to fight or possibly retreat without his aid providing healing and strength buffs, I assume, to Kirishima-san, the situation became dire."
Noticing the court's silence, she continued.
"But as the villains attacked again, some stepped in front of us and began to defend our group of six: Thirteen and me, Andersen-san, Kirishima-san, Ojiro-san, Sero-san, and Aoyama-san. Then, I began to focus on efforts to get Andersen-san back on the battlefield."
"For how long would you say that the villains were standing there?"
"About three minutes, though I'm not entirely sure about when they got to the clearing before the USJ's doors, considering the fact that I didn't know in what order the villains walked through the portals."
Hans's head drooped. Why were they going over such menial details? Wasn't this supposed to be about truth, sentimental statements, and actual social commentary? Why was this just about the technicalities of what happened at the USJ?
As his head hit the seatback in front of him, the prosecuting lawyer took a look at him, grinned, and pressed a button inside her suit, hidden from sight.
And then, the walls behind him burst open, before roiling, black smoke began to pour out of the gap. Hans sat up just as he saw an arm clothed in white robes swinging at him with seemingly nothing. Quickly, he summoned the Elder Tree Mother, who brought up her roots in a desperate attempt to block… whatever it was.
Then, her roots were chopped off. As the stumps of what remained glowed blue and slowly began to regenerate, two figures walked into the room.
One was a ninja holding absolutely nothing, though by the fact that the Elder Tree Mother was now regrowing some of the roots, it was probably something. The other one was a woman wearing yellow and black stripes, while carrying a crossbow and having various nothings holstered in her belts.
"Greetings." the figures said. "We are the-"
Kirishima kicked down the flimsy chair he was sitting on, forced Hans behind him, and went directly for a punch.
As the ninja threw one arm towards the security guards and swung his seemingly empty hand to parry the hardened fist with… nothing(?), many things happened at once.
Ojiro grabbed the chair that Kirishima kicked and held it in front of him as a shield, his tail and other arm poised for offense. Yaoyorozu's shoes burst open as metal rods were made beneath it at a preposterous speed as her arm shimmered with the light of her quirk, before she landed in front of Hans, grappling hook in her hand and steel armguards lining her arms.
"How rude to interrupt us." the woman said in a sultry voice. "And here we thought that this trial wanted facts about what happened back there."
"And what should have happened back there…" the ninja said, in a forced tone of maliciousness, "Was that you should have died, Frankenstein-san."
Every civilian in the place screamed. Aoyama dove behind a bench as Sero struggled to expose his tape dispensers from his way-too-sturdy suit. Yaoyorozu tossed him a sheathed knife absentmindedly as she fired the grappling gun at the woman, who just sighed and pointed a finger at the projectile.
The projectile, of course, slowed down until it seemed like it was moving through a viscous substance like honey. The woman casually plucked the dart out of the air, stopped her pointing, and snapped the strings.
"Get to the target, Honey Jar!" the ninja shouted. "I'll take care of these hero brats."
"With pleasure~" the woman, now apparently noted as Honey Jar, said, leaping away.
"Kirishima." Hans said. "Go shield the defendant."
"But Hans-"
"We'll be fine." Hans said tersely. "Ojiro and Yaoyorozu didn't train for nothing.
As Kirishima leapt away seriously, however, the tall, gray man on the victim's stand began to laugh.
"Of course you bastards would come now, right?" he said raspily, destroying the wooden furniture of the court with just a wave of his hand, before lifting a table in an arm crackling with blue lightning. "Just when I had the chance to get out of that hellhole."
"You're a dirty traitor." the woman snarled, notching an invisible crossbow bolt on what looked like a high-powered crossbow. "And this is your severance check from the League of Vill-"
Kirishima kicked her in the arms, hardening his legs before executing the maneuver. The crossbow was knocked awry, and what sounded like steel clattering on the tile floors seemed to echo across the room as the civilians finally got over their shock and fled. The armed guards, however, were already on the floor somehow, bleeding from wounds that were held open by invisible constructs.
It was just the four, Sero, Aoyama, and the defendant against what looked like two experienced and dangerous villains.
Not hesitating after seeing the effect of his blows, Kirishima proceeded with his relentless attack. First, a stomp on the ground to shake footing. Then? A punch to the arm. Once the reinforced crossbow blocked the attack, he slid under the woman's guard before sharpening his fingers into a spearhead with his quirk and driving it towards a nonlethal area. The quick attack, however, was rendered sluggish with a single pointing motion from the woman.
"How speedy." she purred. "But that isn't going to be fast enough, boy."
As Kirishima growled in frustration and brought up his quirk, raising his arms as fast as his enemy's quirk would allow, the woman used her mouth to get another invisible bolt from her collar and loaded it onto the heavy crossbow, before pulling the trigger.
With a sudden feeling of imbalance, Kirishima was unleashed from the quirk's hold, and his sudden acceleration unbalanced him for a couple of seconds, though his good footwork was able to stop him from falling backwards.
The crossbow bolt, however, was a different story.
It slammed into Kirishima like a mortar shell, and despite his mental training, his quirk still hadn't caught up to his efficiency in skill. His skin cracked, though it was only surface level, and he was forced back several meters.
"Now, to finish you off…" she said, pointing another hand at the scarred, gray, reformed villain. Using the same maneuver a crossbow bolt was obtained from her collar, and-
Ojiro's tail slammed into her from behind, before his two arms began to try and place the woman into a chokehold. Sent stumbling forwards, the woman pointed at Ojiro blindly and activated her quirk. His motions instantly slowed as Ojiro was forced to stare right at the crossbow pointed straight at him.
"You really pissed me off, kid." the villain said in a tough manner, though only aiming for Ojiro's shoulder for some reason.
The trigger clicked, and nothing came out of the crossbow. It hadn't been loaded yet.
Then, a blue light pulsed around the destroyed courtroom as the sound of metal hitting metal began to echo across the room.
…
It was just the two of them against the ninja holding invisible blades. How long were the blades? Hans had no idea. What were the weapons? Hans had no idea, either.
All he knew was that it had been a great idea to work hard on the training montage for the three idiots that now followed him around everywhere.
Yaoyorozu, gaze steely and focused, hefted a tower shield as she analyzed the situation, parrying the strikes of the man's wild dual wield style and produced several matryoshka dolls and sunglasses behind her back. Hans sent out his summons to try and harass the man, but he was much more experienced than those two-bit villains at the USJ.
His creations, made with no combat skill whatsoever, were barely able to pressure him into dodging.
"Hans, can you pull the anti-teleportation field you made at the USJ again? All of these people appeared in a puff of black smoke. The teleporter may be around." Yaoyorozu said, now focusing on making a helmet and chainmail vest for herself.
"I'm already working on it, okay?" Hans said snappily, one hand tapping furiously on a tablet while he cast empowering magic on Ojiro, hoping that one of his tail strikes would be able to take the woman out.
Then, a string of tape shot out from behind a bench. The ninja backflipped in surprise, avoiding a scattering of matches from the little match girl and the tape. Then, Sero latched onto the ceiling and began to create as many roadblocks for the ninja as possible.
"Sero, get down here!" Hans yelled. "He's going to throw some invisible blade at you if you don't."
Sero's eyes widened, and he released his tape's hold on the ceiling, dropping behind Yaoyorozu's shield.
"Where's Aoyama?" Yaoyorozu asked tersely, angling her shield to take yet another strike. The stockpile of materials at her feet steadily grew.
"Calling the heroes." Sero said quickly, all semblance of awkwardness forgotten. "He doesn't have his support belt and can't use his quirk."
"Damn." Hans said. "Yaoyorozu, go on the offensive. Sero? You go and restrain the bee woman to save the defendant."
"You sure?" Sero said. "Then who will take the defense?"
"I will, once you stop bothering me and let me finish making my field!" Hans snapped.
As Sero jumped away, Hans made the final touches to his territory creation skill and slammed the blue sheet of paper that formed because of it down onto the ground, dodging a crossbow bolt and making a blue light pulse across the room for a second time. He chanced a glance at the other side of the room, watching as Kirishima covered for Ojiro while he was slowed and Ojiro bothered the woman's bolt reloading process when Kirishima was slowed. The defendant himself was not making matters any better, going in for the attack with wide swings that demonstrated no martial art skill whatsoever.
Now, all Hans could do was pray, and try to shield himself the best he could. There were no spontaneous shounen powerups, not for him and this group. There was only cold, hard preparation and grim determination to… survive the plot.
Was he going to be turned into an example for the protagonist? To set a tone for the story or start some grand revenge plot against the League of Villains?
"Wait a minute…" Hans muttered, "Why haven't they gone for the kill on Kirishima?"
Tearing his eyes away from Yaoyorozu, who was making and throwing various explosive compounds out of her arm and destroying the courtroom walls while the villain frantically dodged, he looked at Kirishima's cracked shoulder.
Why aim for the shoulder? Given Kirishima's slowed state, there was nothing that stopped the villain from aiming at the head, or the eye.
For two pretty competent villains, this was much too suspicious.
"Why won't you all just back down, hero students?" the ninja grimaced, clenching his fist to reveal that he was holding more throwing knives or other invisible constructs, before flinging them at Hans. In response, Hans shot out a wave of blue mana. They impacted something, before there was a metallic clang on the ground.
"Trap him, Elder Tree Mother!" Hans shouted. Said tree began to crawl up the walls like an alien spider, growing branch after branch to try and stop the villain from killing them both. Amidst the incoming tree branches and the bombs that Yaoyorozu made on her skin, the villain was rendered mostly helpless.
Most of his problems would have been solved if he just went for Yaoyorozu, but for some reason, the villain insisted on throwing daggers at Hans. It was a bit risky to test the theory with Yaoyorozu, but she was currently wearing a helmet and chainmail armor on her torso that was of her own construction. Any other wounds dealt to the limb could probably be healed by him after the confrontation.
"You're being threatened to do this, aren't you?" Hans shouted. The ninja stiffened, almost getting hit by one of the explosions. "If you really were the League of Villains, you both would be aiming to kill us. Instead, you intentionally reveal yourselves with a black smoke grenade, go for nonlethal attacks on Kirishima, but then keep throwing knives and aiming crossbow bolts on… what was your name again?
"Rikasakusei!" the defendant shouted, grabbing another chair to throw at the crossbow-wielding villain.
"Yeah. Him. That means that your targets are me and him. So, you aren't actually villains, are you? You're just hired assassins, trying to target us in order to nullify the court case, all the while getting rid of me and my troublesome speeches by getting rid of me as collateral, is that right?"
For a moment, combat stopped. The villains seemed to stop in their motion. Contrary to their previously swift action, Yaoyorozu, Kirishima, and Ojiro also stopped. Sero stopped swinging around on the ceiling and looked at the two villains, wondering what every other student here was thinking.
Was Hans… actually correct?
The brief pause was interrupted with a click of the crossbow and the rasp of a knife. The students and the frankenstein look-alike sprang back into action, trying to survive for long enough so that a hero could actually get here.
"Nonsense!" the ninja shouted weakly, his voice quivering with emotion. Was it anger, or regret? Hans couldn't exactly tell. "We, the League of Villains, are here to clean house! Death to the traitors!"
The crossbow was fired straight at Hans.
Quickly, Hans dived to the side. The whistle of the wind blew past his coat as he fell to the ground. However, there was a problem once he rolled back up to his feet.
The ninja was standing right before him, hands curled around an invisible sword.
"Aah!" Hans screamed, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his pepper spray and pressing down hard on the trigger. The cheap plastic broke under the sudden pressure and broke into shards, stabbing into Hans's index finger. However, the spray went out as intended. The ninja quickly aborted his swing so as not to get blinded, but his sword… was sprayed. Now? The length of the blade was very clearly shown under the fluorescent lights.
Muttering curses and throwing his pepper spray at the villain, Hans leapt back as Kirishima roared and engaged the ninja.
"You're after me, right?" Rikasakusei shouted, running to help Hans and Yaoyorozu. Another crossbow bolt ruptured the ground behind his feet. "Then come at me! Leave the kids alone!"
There was no response. The woman reloaded her crossbow once again and aimed it at Hans, forcing him to hide behind Yaoyorozu's discarded tower shield. The bolt obliterated the steel, sending fragments of it into Hans's skin, causing blood to begin to stain Hans's suit and tie. Ojiro, slowed by the woman's quirk, looked positively spiteful as he slowly crested to the height of his jump.
Quickly, Sero swooped down and grabbed Hans by the waist via tape, before hoisting him into the air.
"Don't worry." he said. "The woman can't slow both of us and shoot her crossbow. She needs her hands to operate her quirk."
Hans quickly returned the Elder Tree Mother to coat his body and take out the fragments, before hastily healing himself to stop the bleeding.
"Stop it, you bastards!" Rikasakusei roared, clenching his fist and punching at the ninja, whose visible blade was no longer as big of a threat as it used to be. Knives were thrown in response, but the man's tough skin rendered them to only be superficial wounds.
"You're just a fucking idiot, aren't you?" Hans said. "Stop offering up your own life. You're needed to finish his case."
"I'm replaceable." Rikasakusei said. "There are fourteen others that switched sides with me."
"And if they attacked us here, do you really think they would leave the other fourteen alone?" Hans said. "You're probably the last one of your group left alive, idiot!"
"Then it doesn't matter," he declared. "Society clearly doesn't need me anymore. With heroes arresting me, and whoever these people are assassinating me to stop this case, I might as well go along with it and be dead!"
"I guess you're an even bigger idiot than you thought you were." Hans said. "This court case isn't about winning. It's about raising awareness. Regardless of your sentence, people need to hear your story from you, and only you. Like it or not, you have become an irreplaceable figurehead."
"That doesn't change the fact that they're willing to kill children just to silence me!" Rikasakusei said, running recklessly into another slash of the sword just to hit the ninja once. He screamed in agony as the pepper-like compound that was still on the sword made its way into his wounds, but powered through it, his whole body coursing with electricity, as he took another step towards the ninja.
As Hans ducked and weaved between crossbow shots, using his summons and appliances as cover, he thought carefully about his next words.
The reformed villain was currently almost in a berserk state, stomping forwards while disregarding any attempts to keep himself safe. But what was it that made the person with a GED and some potential so self destructive?
The answer, of course, lay in his previous statement.
Society clearly doesn't need me anymore.
Of course, it was a self esteem issue. Without even the influence of others, the people themselves had already developed a confident facade over their internal acceptance that they were wrong in some way.
There was only one way to make this right.
"I'm so going to regret this…" Hans muttered.
He activated one of his skills. Crouched behind one of Yaoyorozu's abandoned creations, he frantically used Rapid Casting E to spam out a story. Of what could have been without all of the quirk nonsense.
"You all don't understand what it's like!" Rikasakusei screamed, his eyes bloodshot as he took yet another stab to the arm without flinching. Kirishima jumped upwards to use his now sloped hardened skin to deflect a crossbow bolt that was going for the tall man's neck, only to be thrown out of the way. The crossbow bolt was deflected anyways, but Rikasakusei was nowhere near safety.
"What it feels like to be spat on!"
A wall was torn down by a fist.
"To be born wrong!"
The ninja had to dodge as half the ceiling lights were fried by the lightning emanating off of Rikasakusei's body.
"To live wrong!"
The floor panels were stomped into dust as the crossbow-wielding villain was forced to roll away from the impact crater.
"To go from job to job, interview to interview!"
Rikasakusei overextended on a punch, stumbling forwards. Almost reflexively, the ninja brought his sword upwards.
Looking at the blade seeking his neck almost in slow motion, Rikasakusei sighed. He gave up all resistance, slowly falling backwards.
This was the end, right?
He closed his eyes just as a voice echoed throughout the room.
Märchen Meines Lebens.
A story… just for you.
…
…
Rikasakusei opened his eyes on the streets.
Was he dead? Did the villain get him?
It was oddly… peaceful.
Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, he idly felt his neck, searching for a wound. There was nothing there.
Slowly, he started chuckling.
"Finally…" he sighed. "It's over… It's done… That shitshow of a life is over…"
"Hey, mister, are you okay?" a little girl said, looking up at him.
Slowly, he looked down. A perfectly normal girl looked back up, wide eyes glistening with a hint of innocence and a dash of naivety.
"Don't bother the tall man, okay?" her mother whispered. "We're sorry, sir. My daughter is just a bit too kind."
"You're… not scared of me?" he said, raising an eyebrow. That was a first.
"Why would I be?" the little girl said. "You just looked so… tired."
Then, his phone began to ring.
"Where are you, dude?" a familiar voice said. It was the voice of the younger boy with the gun-fingers. "Your job interview's in thirty minutes! Come on, man! Me and my bike are just a block away. Why the hell aren't you-"
"Job… interview?" Rikasakusei muttered. "Okay, okay. I'll be there."
He supposed that he would humor the afterlife for a bit.
"Sorry to cut this conversation short, little lady, but I have somewhere to be." he said, winking down at the little girl that wasn't scared of his scars or pale, gray skin.
"I heard you had a job interview." the mother said. "I-I'm sorry, but I didn't mean to eavesdrop on your call."
"Yeah." he said, sighing. "And I'd better go."
Quickly, he sprinted to the next street corner. The place was familiar. It almost looked like… the street right next to his apartment block. The sounds were familiar. Kids swarmed around the comic book shops, giggling and laughing over whatever their characters were doing. Old men sat around the street, showing off fresh produce or particularly tantalizing fruit.
But there was something… off… about the situation.
Nobody was glaring at him? Normally, he had no trouble at all pushing through crowds. People tended to curve around his presence akin to the way stream water curled around a rock.
Looking sideways, he peered into a beauty product shop's store window. Besides some tacky lipstick, a full-body mirror was shown. It was clearly some marketing ploy for women to look into the mirror and imagine themselves with the lipstick, or something.
He looked no different. Seven feet tall… Slightly worn suit…
Suddenly, Rikasakusei gasped. His skin… was no longer gray. Quickly, he felt his cheek again. The signature flaps of flesh that gave the impression of scars were no longer there. His face was totally smooth and fresh. His hands, though bulging with muscle, did not look as if somebody had sown the flesh there.
It was totally normal.
He was totally normal. A bit… average, in looks, other than for his height… But still.
It was everything he had ever dreamed of being.
Had whatever god up there answered his prayers? Given him a better life?
Grinning, he ran down the corner and turned to face a boy several years his younger. Looking at him, he expected to see the kid wearing his punk jacket and sporting several tattoos. Out of an inability to really hold a pencil well due to his gun-tipped fingers, the kid had dropped out of school halfway through middle school, fallen in with a bad crowd, and eventually, the neighbor's kid that used to drag him to watch cartoons was no more.
Instead, he looked… different.
His hair wasn't dyed a pale yellow anymore, and the omnipresent jacket also wasn't casually slung over his shoulders. Instead, he wore a high school uniform
"My folks at the motorcycle rental store let me use this thing for free once they heard you were going to an interview in a different city. One of us, finally going to the big city? My pa could barely believe his ears!"
"Y…you're… normal too?" Rikasakusei stuttered, reaching out a hand. It quickly shrank back, not wanting to disturb the illusion.
"What do you mean, dude?" the teen said. "I've always been like this! Now, don't wreck the bike, okay? I have to go now. My lunch break is almost over."
"You still go to school?" Rikasakusei said stupidly.
"Duh." the teen said, shrugging. "Are you really okay?"
"Nevermind that!" he shouted, taking a helmet from the boy and shoving it on his head. It was barely a fit, but he didn't care. As he waved and sped off into the distance, his face split into a grin so wide it barely fit, even on his large face.
"This really was heaven." Rikasakusei thought.
…
The bike ride almost seemed like it was nonexistent. Checking his watch, he realized that he was five minutes early. It was lucky that he didn't run into traffic.
Along the way, he looked at everybody passing by. Everybody looked perfectly normal. There were no weird hair colors. No floating constructs, billboards filled to the brim with heroes advertising products, or the heroes themselves patrolling the streets in their flamboyant costumes.
This… was a world without quirks. A world that he had somehow entered. A world where, finally, he could be seen as just another person.
Not a potential criminal. Not a violent thug hiding in plain sight.
Just another random person you'd see on the streets.
Almost anxiously, he opened the door to the accounting office. The young man at the front desk looked up at him, adjusting his glasses.
"You must be… Rikasakusei-san, right?" he said. "The boss is already waiting for you."
"T..thank you, sir." he stuttered.
"Sir?" the young man said, raising an eyebrow. "You must be nervous."
"Yeah." he said, grinning. "I am."
Slowly, he trudged up the steps that he never thought he would be able to climb. He was going to see a conference room for the first time in his life! A real, bonafide job interview!
The hinges to the conference room door opened without any squeaking. Inside, a slightly older man sat, wearing a suit and holding a mug of coffee, along with a small packet of papers.
"Sit, please, Rikasakusei-san." his interviewer said, smiling.
"Of course…" he muttered, staring dumbly at the interviewer.
"Now, let us begin. First, let's start with a couple questions about what you expect at this job…"
The interview flew by as well. Rikasakusei answered every question almost subconsciously, bringing back up memories of accounting lessons that he hadn't reviewed in almost four years. The facts still came pouring out of his mouth. The questions about procedure. The correct forms to sign. How to appease clients.
Somehow, he had remembered.
Nervously, he shifted around in his chair, waiting for the inevitable question about his quirk. Where was that?
"Okay, I think that's about it." the interviewer said. "Rikasakusei-san, I think we'll be seeing you in our firm very, very soon."
"Really?" he blurted out. "That's it? You're not going to ask me about my quirk?"
"What quirk?" the interviewer said, furrowing his brow. "Are you sure you're okay, young man?"
Suddenly, Rikasakusei grinned. He didn't look like an abomination in this life. This… was really it!
His resume was handed back to him. A quick glance told him that it was the exact same copy he had written four years ago. Community college degree in accounting, a GED instead of high school graduation, and no prior work experience.
"Of course, you'll be starting at the lower levels." the interviewer said. "Don't worry about it too much, young man. I think this IS the right job for you."
Almost in a daze, Rikasakusei walked out of the building, before looking up at the sun.
He had done it. Without his horrible quirk, he really could get a job! His effort wasn't for nothing.
Then, everything faded to black. The resume he was holding slipped out of his hands, before fading into blue sparks.
"What's going on?" he said, bringing his fists up warily. Idly, he noticed that his deathly pale skin was back. His scars were back, and the lumps of flesh that made him seem like an abomination were back.
"Sadly, this is only just an illusion." a familiar blue-haired child said, floating in the void. "A life of what could have been if you didn't live in this extraordinary era."
A tear slowly slid down his cheeks. He had almost believed that it was real. That he could have gotten a job through his own merit.
"But you could have been so much more, if only people looked at who you were on the inside." the child said. "God, this sounds so cheesy."
"Why did you do this?" Rikasakuse said, slowly falling down onto the floor. His knees slowly lost their strength, and he began to cry again.
The last time he had cried was the last day of middle school, walking off the tallest building in the schoolyard.
"Why did you show me hope? Why are you… so cruel?"
"Is it cruel?" the child said.
Rikasakusei looked up.
Behind the child, another scene played out. It was him standing in the middle of the streets again, wearing his stretched suits and hosting his slightly scary features. This time, however, only the very young shied away from him. Everybody walked past him normally, with some pedestrians even saying hello.
"That could very well be your reality, and it all starts with this court case." the blue-haired kid said. "If you choose to live, you will continue as a figurehead. You will show what society has done, and tell them that people like you… just want to live."
The scene switched to somebody like him shaking hands with an interviewee that looked exactly like the one he had just been talking with, grinning excitedly.
"If you choose to live and continue fighting for the case… nothing will happen immediately. I will make no false promises. But that future, at least, can get a little closer."
"Really?" he asked, his gravelly voice trembling within the void.
"Yes, really." the child said. "Are you ready to make your choice?"
Rikasakusei sighed, and closed his eyes.
…
Hans almost sighed in relief as the reformed villain leaned back and actually dodged the blade. His noble phantasm had somehow worked. Who knew that showing an actually normal world would motivate people?
He went over the contents of his flashback. None of it was… particularly great. Was living in a world without quirks really that big of a cultural shock?
Hans guessed it probably was.
Then, why couldn't he get the nagging feeling of dread out of his stomach?
"Let's see… Flashback, hopes for the future, minor character… Oh, no!"
"What is it?" Kirishima said, instantly assuming a defensive stance. "What's going on?"
"I just set a flag!" Hans shouted. "Run, Rikasakusei!"
"Oh, it's not him that should be running." the woman with the crossbow said, pointing a finger at Hans. He felt his movements instantly seize up.
"After all, you were on the list too." the villain said. With his slowed motion, Hans had the time to look at a single tear fall from her eyes.
The crossbow trigger was pulled.
…
AN
Edit 6/5/23: changed GED stuff. I did not do sufficient research. Thx reviewer :D
Is Hans going to die?
I think we all know the answer to that.
And about the inevitable questions about "oh, why hasn't a hero showed up yet?"
I wonder who's in charge of the hero patrol locations and stuff. Besides, all of the 5k words in the fight scene has basically lasted like… four minutes in actual time.
Fight scene words are worth like… milliseconds in the actual fight scene. Which is why they're both good to fill up on word count and tedious to write, though I hope that it was at least entertaining.
Discord link: discord . gg / 9t9MK3jHmV
If you have particularly strong thoughts about this chapter, then you can come roast me in the discord.
-SpiritOfErebus