The morning sun cast long, golden beams across the small, cluttered room where Izuku Midoriya sat, illuminating the space with a warm but distant glow. Every surface, meticulously arranged with All Might memorabilia, now seemed to shimmer under the light, like relics of a past era in a shrine dedicated to a forgotten god. Izuku's breath caught in his throat as his gaze settled on the desk before him, where a simple envelope lay, ominous in its stillness.
This was no ordinary letter. It carried the weight of his entire future, the gravity of his aspirations, and the quiet tension of years spent striving toward a single, distant goal. His hands, though usually steady in moments of decision, trembled ever so slightly as they reached for it. The silence of the room was profound, broken only by the faint crinkling sound of paper as he tore the seal.
Inside, nestled within the folds of the envelope, was a small, circular device—alien in its simplicity, yet potent with the significance it bore. Izuku's brows furrowed momentarily, confusion briefly overshadowing the anxiety, until his sharp eyes caught the faint glint of a button at its center.
It took him a moment to steady his breath, to remind himself that this was the moment he had fought for. He pressed the button, feeling the subtle give of the mechanism beneath his finger. For a heartbeat, there was nothing. The room remained still, as if the world itself held its breath.
Then, with a low hum, the device activated. A shimmering holographic image sprang to life, slowly coalescing into the towering figure of All Might, his hero costume catching the light with a brilliance that only enhanced his already larger-than-life presence. The hero's infectious grin—one that had lit the hearts of millions—blazed forth as he spoke, his voice booming with the familiar, comforting strength Izuku had idolized since childhood.
"Young Midoriya!" All Might's voice shook the room, vibrating with the sheer force of his exuberance. Even in holographic form, he dominated the space. "I'm here to deliver the news personally! You've done it, my boy! You've passed the U.A. entrance exam!"
The words, like a decree from a sovereign, echoed in Izuku's mind. His heart, which had been pounding anxiously moments before, seemed to still, as though frozen by the sheer magnitude of what he had just heard. Time itself slowed, the edges of his world narrowing until there was only All Might's voice and the relentless echo of those life-altering words.
All Might continued, the warmth in his tone a counterbalance to the strength of his presence. "You showed not only the strength and determination required of a hero, but also the heart and compassion that define true heroism." There was a pause, laden with meaning, as if the great hero were choosing his next words with care. "Your willingness to sacrifice, to help others even when it puts you at risk, is what makes you a true hero. Welcome to U.A. High School, young Midoriya! Plus Ultra!"
With that final exclamation, the hologram flickered, then vanished, leaving behind the quiet hum of the room and the soft, golden light that once again settled on the remnants of All Might's projection. But Izuku remained frozen, his body rigid as his mind whirled. The enormity of what had just occurred pressed down on him like a weight—no, not a burden, but the culmination of years of effort, sacrifice, and dreams.
He had passed.
The trembling in his hands increased as he clutched the deactivated device to his chest. A sob wracked his body, the first sound to break the silence in what felt like an eternity. Tears streamed down his face—tears of relief, of joy, of disbelief. He was going to U.A. High School. The dream that had once seemed so far away was now within his grasp, and with it, the terrifying and exhilarating prospect of a future he had only dared to hope for.
Meanwhile, across the city of Musutafu, in a quiet room untouched by the chaos of youth and dreams, sat Seraphina, her hazel eyes gazing thoughtfully out of a window. The faint hum of life below—distant sirens, the chatter of people, the muted roar of the city's pulse—was a soft background to her calm, introspective silence. The steam rising from her tea caught the light, casting a delicate, ethereal glow that reflected her composed demeanor.
Her thoughts drifted, as they often did, to the students of U.A. High School, those chosen few who were now embarking on their own journeys. She imagined them—each filled with their own mix of emotions, their own dreams, and their own fears. Yet, what occupied her mind most was not the excitement of youth, but rather the unyielding weight of duty.
Seraphina's life had always been one of responsibility. As the Saintess, her powers were both a blessing and a burden—gifts that allowed her to heal and protect, but which also bound her to a strict moral code. In Japan, this burden was compounded by law. Here, unlike the countries she had visited before, she was forbidden from using the offensive aspects of her quirk without a hero license. The restriction, while logical, gnawed at her.
Japan's heroes operated under rules cultivated over decades of trial and error—an orderly system that upheld peace but left little room for those outside its ranks to act with true freedom. For Seraphina, accustomed to wielding her power as needed, the restriction felt like a chain binding her, even as she respected its necessity.
Her fingers traced the rim of her cup, the warmth of the tea now a distant sensation as her mind turned inward. She had been in Japan long enough to know she could not continue like this. If she was to fulfill her duty, if she was to protect those in need, she would need that hero license. Soon.
With a quiet sigh, she set the cup down, her resolve firm. The storm was coming, and she could not afford to be unprepared. Standing, she straightened the folds of her gown, her movements deliberate, each one a reflection of her inner calm. There was work to be done, and Seraphina, as always, was ready.
Outside, the city continued its relentless pace, unaware of the decisions being made in a quiet room by a woman whose powers could reshape the world. And somewhere, in a small, sunlit room, a boy named Izuku Midoriya held onto the deactivated device with the determination of one who had just glimpsed the future he had always dreamed of.
--
The sound of children's laughter echoed through the sunlit courtyard as Seraphina, flanked by the towering figures of Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods, approached the modest yet brightly colored building that housed the local kindergarten. The structure itself was quaint, its walls painted in soft pastels, the windows large and inviting, allowing sunlight to spill onto the ground in playful patches of light. The outside of the building was adorned with the innocent artwork of the children who inhabited it, their drawings and paintings transforming the walls into a tapestry of color and youthful imagination.
As Seraphina crossed the threshold, the air itself seemed to change. It was not merely the presence of heroes that caused this shift, but something deeper—an aura, almost imperceptible yet undeniable, emanated from Seraphina. It was as though the very atmosphere responded to her presence, becoming more serene, more welcoming. The teachers, who had been preparing for her visit with barely concealed excitement, paused the moment they laid eyes on her, their faces lighting up with a mixture of awe and gratitude.
"Lady Seraphina!" One of the teachers, a woman whose gentle eyes betrayed years of patient care, bowed deeply as she greeted her. Her tone was respectful, bordering on reverential. "We are deeply honored that you could visit today. The children have been eagerly awaiting your arrival."
Seraphina inclined her head with a smile that radiated warmth, though it was a controlled warmth, tempered with humility. Her gaze flicked beyond the teacher to the small gathering of children who watched from a distance, their tiny heads peeking out from behind a corner, eyes wide with curiosity and awe.
"The honor is mine," Seraphina responded, her voice a soft melody that seemed to wrap around the ears like a soothing balm. "I have been looking forward to meeting them as well."
The teacher gestured for her to follow, and Seraphina moved gracefully into the heart of the building. The children, no longer able to contain their excitement, burst from their hiding places, their faces bright with innocent joy. Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods, standing near the entrance, maintained a respectful distance, their roles as guardians unnecessary in such a peaceful setting, yet their presence a silent reminder of the importance of Seraphina's safety.
"Look! It's the Saintess!" A little girl's voice broke through the air, filled with the awe that only a child can muster. "She's even prettier in person!"
Seraphina's expression softened, and she knelt to their level, her gown pooling elegantly around her like water cascading over smooth stone. Her hazel eyes sparkled with a kindness that reached the children's hearts, pulling them closer. "Hello, everyone," she greeted them, her voice as gentle as a summer breeze. "I've heard wonderful things about you all. I'm very happy to be here."
The children crowded around her, their small hands reaching out, timidly at first, to touch the fabric of her gown. Their innocence was tangible, their curiosity unfiltered as they peppered her with questions.
"Do you really have magic powers?" asked a boy with unruly hair, his wide eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and skepticism.
Seraphina chuckled softly, the sound like the faint chiming of bells. "Some might call them magic," she replied, the subtlest of smiles playing on her lips. "But it's more like a gift—one I use to help others. Would you like to see?"
The children nodded vigorously, their faces lighting up with anticipation. Seraphina raised her hand, and with a slight movement, a soft, golden light began to shimmer from her palm. It filled the room with a warmth that was both physical and spiritual, as though the light itself carried a sense of peace and safety. The children gasped, their eyes wide as they stared in awe at the radiant glow.
"Wow…" one of the children breathed, the sheer wonder in her voice hanging in the air like a whisper of innocence. "It's so pretty!"
Seraphina allowed the light to fade, the room gradually returning to its natural state. She gently extended her hand toward the children, her fingers brushing against them with a tenderness that seemed to soothe their restless energy. "Remember," she said softly, "this light is meant to help, just like you can help each other in your own special ways."
A small boy, his knee wrapped in a bandage, shyly stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the ground. The other children parted, their eyes following his hesitant movements. His voice was barely above a whisper. "My knee… it hurts."
Seraphina's expression softened further, and she leaned closer, her hand hovering just above the bandage. "Let me see," she said gently. Her hand glowed once more, the golden light enveloping the boy's injury. The children watched in silence, entranced by the ethereal glow. Slowly, the light dissipated, and the bandage slipped away, revealing unblemished skin beneath.
The boy blinked in astonishment, his eyes darting between his healed knee and Seraphina's serene smile. "It doesn't hurt anymore!" he exclaimed, his voice now loud and filled with joy. His face split into a wide grin, and he bounced on his toes, as though testing the newfound strength in his leg.
Seraphina smiled, her expression both proud and amused. "Be more careful next time," she advised, her tone playful yet firm, the faintest glimmer of authority beneath the gentleness.
The children's excited chatter filled the room once more, their enthusiasm boundless. They clamored around her, their voices blending into a symphony of wonder and admiration. "Show us more!" they begged, their wide eyes pleading for another glimpse of her power.
Seraphina, however, shook her head with a soft smile. "How about we play a game instead?" she suggested, her voice filled with playful warmth. "A game where we all help each other?"
The children readily agreed, and for the next hour, Seraphina guided them through activities designed to teach them the values of cooperation, kindness, and support. They pretended to be heroes, each taking turns helping their friends in imaginary scenarios that reflected the world they admired. Whether rescuing a friend from a make-believe monster or helping each other across an imaginary river, their laughter filled the room, a testament to their innocent joy.
But as the visit came to an end, a subtle melancholy settled over the children. They lined up to say their goodbyes, each receiving a gentle pat on the head or a soft embrace from Seraphina. Her presence had been a beacon of light in their small world, and now, as she prepared to leave, they held onto her words with a newfound sense of purpose.
"Remember," Seraphina said, her voice carrying a weight beyond her years, "you all have the power to help others, just like heroes do. Never forget how important that is."
With those words, she left the kindergarten, her heart light yet resolute, knowing she had planted the seeds of hope in the young, impressionable hearts.
--
The shift in atmosphere upon entering the hospital was palpable. Gone were the sounds of laughter and joy, replaced by the sterile scent of antiseptic and the soft beeping of medical equipment. The brightly painted walls did little to dispel the undercurrent of anxiety that permeated the air. Here, the frailty of life was laid bare.
Seraphina, flanked now by the imposing figures of Best Jeanist and Ryukyu, stepped forward, her presence once again altering the mood of the space. The oppressive weight of illness and injury seemed to lift, if only slightly, as though her very aura breathed life into the otherwise somber halls.
"Saintess Seraphina," a nurse greeted her, bowing deeply. Her voice, though formal, carried a reverence that spoke to the impact of Seraphina's reputation. "The patients have been eagerly awaiting your arrival."
Seraphina returned the bow with her signature warmth, her smile gentle yet filled with purpose. "Let's not keep them waiting, then," she said softly, her voice as steady and calming as ever.
The nurse led the way through the winding corridors, Seraphina's heels clicking softly against the linoleum. Best Jeanist and Ryukyu followed closely, their presence more symbolic than practical in a place like this. Nonetheless, their silent vigilance was a reminder of the outside world's ever-present dangers.
The first room they entered housed a young girl, her pale face framed by a mess of unkempt hair. Her leg was encased in a cast, the result of an unfortunate accident. Monitors beeped steadily beside her, the rhythmic pulse of the machinery a constant reminder of her fragile condition. Her parents, sitting vigil at her bedside, looked up as Seraphina entered, their expressions shifting from worry to hope.
"Hello, dear," Seraphina said, her voice gentle as she approached the bed. "How are you feeling today?"
The girl blinked up at her, recognition dawning in her wide eyes. "It hurts," she whispered, her voice tinged with discomfort.
Seraphina's expression softened, and she placed her hand over the cast. "Let's see what we can do about that," she murmured, her voice soothing. As her hand began to glow with that familiar golden light, the tension in the room melted away. The girl's face relaxed, the pain easing as the warmth spread through her leg.
Moments later, Seraphina withdrew her hand, the light fading. "How does it feel now?" she asked gently.
The girl blinked in surprise. "It… doesn't hurt anymore," she murmured, her voice filled with wonder.
Her parents, overcome with gratitude, bowed deeply. "Thank you, Saintess," her mother whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "We were so worried… but now, she looks so much better. Thank you."
Seraphina offered them a serene smile, her hand gently brushing the girl's forehead. "You don't need to thank me. Just continue to take good care of her, and she'll recover quickly. Sometimes, a family's love is the best medicine."
With a final nod, Seraphina moved on, accompanied by the silent figures of Best Jeanist and Ryukyu. The hospital staff guided them to more rooms, where her presence brought a sense of peace and comfort to the patients, many of whom had been grappling with pain or fear for days, even weeks.
In one room, a young man with a broken arm looked up at Seraphina with wide, hopeful eyes as she approached his bedside. "I've been in pain ever since the accident," he admitted quietly, his voice trembling. "The doctors say it will heal, but… it's been hard."
Seraphina laid her hand gently over his arm, the soft glow of her healing quirk enveloping the injury. As she worked, the man's face slowly relaxed, the tension draining from his features. When she finished, his breathing had steadied, and his pain had visibly lessened.
"It's still going to take time," Seraphina said, her tone both compassionate and firm. "Healing is a process. But you'll feel much better now. Stay strong, and you'll recover fully."
The man nodded gratefully, his voice catching in his throat as he thanked her. Seraphina moved on, visiting elderly patients who had long since accepted their fragile conditions, and children whose eyes sparkled with hope at the sight of her. In each room, she brought the same measured grace and unwavering kindness.
Best Jeanist, observing from the side, spoke quietly to Ryukyu. "It's remarkable how she connects with each person individually. This level of empathy… it's rare, even among the best heroes."
Ryukyu nodded, her expression thoughtful as she watched Seraphina speak gently with an elderly woman whose hands trembled from years of illness. "Empathy is her greatest strength. It's not just the healing she offers… it's the hope she brings with her presence."
As they continued their rounds, Seraphina entered the final room, where a boy no older than six lay in bed, his small body hooked up to various machines that monitored his vitals. His eyes, though tired, lit up when Seraphina approached. His parents stood nearby, their faces etched with worry.
Seraphina knelt beside the boy, her hand brushing his forehead gently. "Hello, little one," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth. "How are you feeling?"
The boy's voice was a whisper. "Tired. But… better now that you're here."
Seraphina's smile deepened, and she reached for his hand. "I'll do my best to help you feel stronger. You've been very brave."
Her hand began to glow, the golden light softly spreading across his body, filling the room with warmth and tranquility. The boy's breathing steadied, and his tense expression relaxed as the glow worked its gentle magic.
The boy's mother wiped away tears as she watched, her voice breaking as she whispered, "Thank you… thank you so much."
When Seraphina finished, the boy looked up at her, his eyes brighter than before. "Will I be able to run again?" he asked, his voice soft but filled with hope.
Seraphina smiled gently, brushing a lock of hair away from his face. "In time, yes. But for now, rest and grow stronger. There's no need to rush. You'll be running in no time."
As she stood to leave, the boy's small hand reached out to grab hers. "Thank you, Lady Seraphina."
Seraphina's heart swelled with warmth. "You're very welcome. Stay strong, little one."
With that, Seraphina and her companions left the hospital, the weight of the day's work resting gently on her shoulders. As they stepped outside, the sun had begun to dip toward the horizon, casting the city in a warm, golden glow.
Best Jeanist, walking beside her, broke the silence. "You've done a great deal today, Lady Seraphina. Your presence here was more than just a visit—it was a lifeline for many of these people."
Seraphina inclined her head, her expression thoughtful. "Thank you, but I only did what anyone should do. Every life, every heart touched, is worth the effort."
Ryukyu's voice was warm as she added, "You've reminded us all what it means to be a hero, Seraphina. Compassion, hope… those are as vital as strength in the face of adversity."
Seraphina paused, looking out over the city as the light faded into twilight. "Being a hero isn't just about fighting villains or saving lives in the heat of battle. Sometimes, the greatest strength lies in simply being there for others, in the quiet moments when they need it most."
With those words, she gazed into the distance, her resolve unwavering. There was much work left to be done—both in the hospitals and beyond. But as long as she could bring light into the darkest corners of the world, Seraphina knew she was fulfilling her true calling.
--
The tranquility of the hospital, shattered so quickly by the chaos of the city under siege, felt like a distant memory. The clamor of the sirens, the acrid scent of smoke, and the sight of towering flames clawing at the sides of the buildings created a hellscape that stretched for blocks. The villain at the center of it all loomed over the devastation, his hulking figure manipulating metal with effortless malice. Cars, streetlights, and entire sections of steel infrastructure bent to his will, torn apart and flung aside with a flick of his hand. The city, normally bustling with life, was now a twisted ruin, choked by debris and the cries of panicked civilians caught in the crossfire.
Seraphina arrived amidst the chaos, her usual calm unaffected by the carnage surrounding her. She was flanked by Ingenium and Edgeshot, who moved through the destruction with the precision and speed their hero rankings demanded. Ahead of them, the battle raged. Endeavor, a living inferno, unleashed towering columns of flame, but even his power seemed barely enough to contain the villain's rampage. Backdraft was strategically dousing the blazing wreckage, his water-manipulating quirk a constant flood of relief, while Edgeshot and Ingenium worked tirelessly to usher civilians out of the danger zone.
"Seraphina!" Endeavor's voice thundered through the battlefield as she approached, his flames blazing behind him. The relief in his tone, though restrained, was unmistakable. "We're stretched thin. Help us with the civilians!"
Seraphina surveyed the scene with sharp, discerning eyes. The streets were a labyrinth of wreckage, fire, and panicked civilians. Her role was clear. "I'll take care of them," she replied, her voice calm yet filled with unshakable resolve. "Focus on the villain."
She moved with purpose, her golden light flaring to life as she approached a cluster of civilians pinned beneath fallen debris. Ingenium and Edgeshot fanned out around her, their attention never wavering from the surrounding danger, but Seraphina needed no protection. Her powers, though bound by the laws of Japan, were still formidable in the realm of defense. With a single gesture, her radiant barrier sprang up, shielding the trapped civilians from a collapsing building. The debris smashed against the barrier, sparks flying as it deflected harmlessly to the side.
"You're safe now," Seraphina said softly, her voice cutting through the fear that clung to the air. "Head to the evacuation point. The rescue teams are waiting for you."
The civilians, their faces pale but filled with awe, scrambled to their feet. "Thank you, Saintess!" one of them cried, barely holding back tears as they were led away by the nearby rescue workers.
But Seraphina's focus was already elsewhere. The villain's rampage continued, his control over metal wreaking havoc as the heroes struggled to contain him. Cars were torn from the streets, twisted into grotesque sculptures of metal, while streetlights were uprooted and turned into deadly projectiles. Even Endeavor's flames, relentless as they were, could not break the villain's focus. Each attack was deflected or absorbed by the torrent of metal that surrounded him like a living shield.
Seraphina's frustration simmered beneath her composed exterior. In other countries, she could have taken a more active role in the fight, used her offensive abilities to neutralize the villain quickly and decisively. But here, she was constrained by the regulations that bound her powers. She could defend, she could heal—but she could not strike back, not without a license.
"I need that license," she muttered under her breath, her resolve hardening as she reinforced another barrier around a group of civilians trapped beneath a collapsing storefront. "I could end this much faster."
A sudden roar split the air as the villain, sensing his control slipping, unleashed a massive wave of metal debris toward a crowd of escaping civilians. Twisted beams and jagged shards of metal raced toward them, the destructive force enough to tear through them in seconds. But Seraphina was already in motion.
With a flick of her wrist, her radiant barrier expanded, engulfing the civilians just as the wave of metal crashed against it. The impact sent a shower of sparks into the air, but the barrier held, glowing with the soft, golden light that had become her signature. The civilians huddled beneath it, their fear palpable, but their awe undeniable as they watched Seraphina stand firm against the onslaught.
"Move!" she called out to the rescue workers, her voice sharp with command. "Get them out of here now!"
The workers moved quickly, leading the civilians through the protective shield to safety. Once they were clear, Seraphina dropped the barrier, the strain of the battle beginning to show in the subtle tension of her muscles, though she gave no outward sign of exhaustion. She glanced toward the heart of the battlefield, where Endeavor's flames roared higher, determined to bring the villain down.
Sensing an opportunity, Endeavor poured every ounce of his power into a final, devastating strike. His flames surged forward, engulfing the villain's metal constructs and melting them into molten slag. The villain staggered, his control slipping as the heat became unbearable. It was the opening the other heroes had been waiting for.
In a blur of motion, Ingenium and Edgeshot closed in. Ingenium's speed allowed him to outmaneuver the remaining metal defenses, while Edgeshot's precision strikes severed the villain's connection to the metal entirely. Within seconds, the villain was on his knees, his body limp as Edgeshot delivered the final blow, rendering him unconscious.
The battlefield fell silent, the metal tendrils collapsing uselessly to the ground. Seraphina, having just ensured the last of the civilians had made it to safety, took a deep breath, her body finally relaxing as the danger passed. She approached the heroes, her steps steady despite the weariness tugging at the edges of her consciousness.
"You did well," she said, her voice carrying a note of genuine respect as she addressed Endeavor and the others. "The way you coordinated the attack was flawless."
Endeavor, his flames still crackling around him, nodded in acknowledgment. "We couldn't have done it without you holding the civilians back," he admitted, the gruff edge of his voice softening slightly. "Your timing was perfect, Seraphina."
Ingenium approached, his expression bright despite the intensity of the battle. "You saved a lot of lives today, Saintess. The way you shielded those civilians from the collapsing buildings… it was nothing short of amazing."
Edgeshot, ever the quiet and observant hero, gave a respectful nod. "Your support was crucial. We owe you our thanks."
Backdraft, arriving from the rear lines, his costume singed from the heat of the fires, added his own praise. "You kept a level of calm that made all the difference. The civilians were easier to manage with you leading the defense, and that made our jobs a lot easier."
Seraphina acknowledged their words with a graceful nod, though the frustration of her own limitations still lingered at the back of her mind. "Thank you, but it was a team effort. I only wish I could have done more to help you with the battle itself."
Endeavor gave her a sharp look, his expression unreadable for a moment before he spoke. "You did more than enough. Each of us has our role to play, and yours kept people alive. Don't discount that."
Seraphina smiled softly, though the weight of her thoughts remained. "Still… if I had the ability to engage offensively, this could have ended sooner." Her gaze hardened, the decision already made in her mind. "I'll be getting that hero license. It's the only way I can truly contribute."
Ingenium placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice filled with warmth and encouragement. "You're already making a huge difference, Seraphina. But if anyone deserves a hero license, it's you. We'd be honored to have you fighting alongside us in full capacity."
Ryukyu, having arrived after coordinating rescue efforts, joined the group. Her dragon-like form cast an imposing shadow over the street, but her voice was filled with respect. "Seraphina, you've already proven yourself as a hero. The license will come, but for now, know that your presence alone changes the tide of battle."
Seraphina looked around at the gathered heroes, each of them offering their own words of support, their belief in her clear. For a moment, the exhaustion of the day lifted, replaced by a renewed sense of purpose. These heroes, who had fought alongside her, who had seen her protect the most vulnerable, had offered her the one thing she had sought most: trust.
"I appreciate your kind words," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "We're all here to protect and serve, and I'm grateful to be standing among such incredible heroes."
The group stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the day's events settling over them. But in that silence, there was also a sense of shared accomplishment. They had saved lives. They had fought back the chaos. And together, they had stood strong.
But for Seraphina, the day had also solidified something deeper. She would continue to protect, to heal, and to defend those who could not defend themselves. But soon, she would fight, too.
With her full strength.
--
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city in a veil of twilight, Seraphina returned to her quarters at U.A. High, the weight of the day's trials and triumphs heavy on her shoulders. The room, while modest, radiated an understated elegance. Its minimalist design—muted hues, clean lines, and soft textures—offered a sense of quiet refuge, a stark contrast to the chaos she had faced earlier. The large window at the far end of the room framed the city, now alive with twinkling lights, like a constellation stretched across the urban landscape.
Seraphina stood by the window, hands clasped in front of her, lost in contemplation as she watched the city breathe. The memories of the day, the battles fought, and the lives saved, played in her mind like echoes of a distant symphony. She had spent so much of her life healing others, but Japan, with its unique laws and hero culture, posed challenges she hadn't anticipated. Challenges she now knew she had to overcome if she were to fully commit herself to her mission here.
Her reflection in the glass caught her attention, the flickering city lights casting her features in a soft glow. She had seen that same reflection countless times—calm, composed, and resolved. Yet beneath it all, she was always reminded of the burdens that came with the title of Saintess. The faces of those she had healed today—innocent children, frightened civilians, and grateful heroes—brought her a sense of fulfillment. But with each new face came the sobering reminder of how much more she could do, if only the rules allowed.
Her thoughts turned to the regulations that bound her hands, the legal restrictions that prevented her from unleashing the full power of her quirk. In her homeland, she had been free to act, her healing and defensive abilities tempered by the offensive might she had honed for dire situations. Here, she was caged, her abilities curtailed by the strict codes of Japan's hero society.
"I need that license," Seraphina murmured, her voice barely louder than a breath. Her reflection in the window met her gaze, unblinking and resolute. "Without it, I'm nothing more than a shield when I could be a sword as well."
The decision was clear now. She would speak with Toshinori—All Might—and Principal Nezu. Both had shown her great respect and warmth, but she needed more than their approval. She needed their support to push through the bureaucracy that stood between her and the freedom to act. She had come to Japan with the intention of expanding her mission, of offering her healing hands to a new land. But now, after the trials of the past few weeks, she understood that her mission here required more than just healing. It required action.
The flicker of lights outside her window, the soft hum of the city, and the distant rhythm of life continuing beyond her own quiet space brought Seraphina a strange sense of comfort. The people down there, moving through their lives, unaware of the dangers she had helped avert, were the reason she fought. They were the ones who kept her grounded, who gave her purpose.
Stepping away from the window, Seraphina moved through the room, her mind still swirling with thoughts of the days to come. She allowed herself a brief sigh as she untied the sash of her robe, the fabric slipping from her shoulders with an elegant grace. The simple act of changing into her nightgown brought with it a small sense of relief, as though shedding the weight of her responsibilities for just a few precious hours. The gown was soft against her skin, the cool touch of the fabric a gentle reminder of the comforts she often took for granted.
She paused, her gaze falling on the neatly made bed, its covers folded with care. But before lying down, she sank to her knees beside the bed, her hands folding together in a gesture of prayer. It was a ritual that had carried her through years of hardship and hope, a habit she had never abandoned since her time with the Vatican. Even though she no longer belonged to that sacred institution, the prayer had become less about religion and more about grounding herself in the path she had chosen.
"Give me the strength to continue," she whispered, her voice soft yet filled with conviction. "To bring hope to those in need, and to guide them with wisdom and compassion. Let me protect, heal, and serve as I've vowed to do. And grant me the patience to navigate the challenges ahead."
Her words lingered in the stillness of the room, a quiet affirmation of her purpose. For a moment, the weight on her shoulders felt lighter, the burdens of the day eased by the knowledge that she wasn't alone in this journey. The faces of those she had helped over the years—the children, the elderly, the wounded—flickered before her eyes, each one a reminder of the path she had carved for herself, and the lives she had touched.
Rising from her knees, Seraphina moved toward the bed, slipping under the covers with a sense of finality. The room around her darkened as she turned off the lights, the only illumination coming from the city outside, casting faint shadows on the walls. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, her mind still working through the thoughts that refused to quiet themselves.
She thought of Toshinori and Nezu, of the conversations she would have with them in the coming days. Nezu, ever sharp and insightful, had already hinted at the need for Seraphina to take on a more official role within the hero society. His wisdom, combined with Toshinori's respect for her abilities, gave her hope that her request for a license would be met with understanding. But she also knew the path to obtaining that license wouldn't be easy. Japan's hero system was rigid, built on decades of structured law and order, and they did not hand out licenses lightly.
Still, Seraphina was determined. She had never shied away from adversity before, and she wasn't about to start now. If the past weeks had taught her anything, it was that she belonged here, alongside Japan's heroes, fighting to protect the innocent in every way she could. Whether through healing, shielding, or—when the time came—fighting.
Her eyelids grew heavy as the exhaustion of the day finally caught up to her. But even as sleep began to claim her, her mind drifted to the faces of the heroes she had met, the trust and camaraderie they had shared during battle. Endeavor, stern but grateful; Ingenium, full of encouragement; Edgeshot, silent but ever watchful; and Backdraft, whose calm words had resonated with her deeply.
The work of a hero was never done. But for now, Seraphina allowed herself the peace of sleep, knowing that tomorrow would bring new challenges, new lives to protect, and, with any luck, new steps toward securing the license that would allow her to fully unleash her power in service of those in need.
And as the city hummed softly beneath her, the stars above twinkling in the night sky, Seraphina finally closed her eyes, her heart filled with quiet resolve.
The path ahead was clear.