The Price of Pain

Chapter 22: Family is Where your Heart is


The next two nights were spent in a fitful sleep. Aki found herself dreaming more frequently and vividly of the murder of her infant brother… except now the babies all had different unfamiliar faces. They cried and cried, but she was too young, too weak to save them. All she could do was howl and beg helplessly. Then she would hear the Shinobi's voice again.

"You can curse me every day of your life. But you will be alive because of me."

And sometimes she'd wake up wishing she weren't. It was a dangerous thought; one she knew could spiral into self-destructive behaviour. She was certain it would have, if not for the ugly feeling in her chest that grew each day, a hate that burnt steadily for a woman she would have otherwise been inclined to love. Even now Aki could not bring herself to hate her father. There was resentment there, but not hate. However, the feelings towards Rukiya were unlike anything she'd felt. More intense than the general hatred she felt for Kumo and Konoha, and less esoteric than the one she felt for this world. Aki thought she knew hatred, but she was wrong. If this was hatred than she wanted it to end.

"Aki, can I come in?" Tamao asked after knocking on her door.

"Come in," Aki sighed.

The girl walked in hauling her guitar onto the bed before dropping a bag of take out in front of her desk. Aki pushed aside her computer and notes before it got in the way of the grease, sending the girl a glower of irritation.

"What'cha doing?"

"Does your father even allow you to get involved in his Vigilante work? I'm not going behind his back," she groused.

Tamao pouted, popping the lollipop out of her mouth. "Aww come on. I know I'm not combat oriented. My quirks about fine tuning rhythm and patterns. Funnily enough it's useful for detective work as well as music."

Aki sent her an appraising look. "Alright, Iamtrying to find a pattern in the local dealers locations. We're trying to find a lead on the trigger that's spreading across the streets."

"Trigger,again. They never come up with anything new, huh?" she asked before turning to Aki with a grin, "Alright then scoot over, we're going to combine your hacking skills and my deduction to become the best detective squad to exist."

The enthusiasm was refreshing. Aki found herself sharing a seat with Tamao as she walked her through the current markings of where she'd scouted transactions between dealers and their base.


Six was done waiting. He had grown restless since Aki left him without direction. Her presence was like a solid surface in which he could stand comfortably on. Then she left. And now he was left floundering and tripping over himself like a leaf in turbulent winds. Even now as a drunk woman touched his chest and leered at him, his thoughts were remembered it being on another man once. He once considered him a bedrock of comfort.

"Why don't you come back home with me tonight, handsome?" the woman asked him, slapping her plump pink lips in arousal.

"I have a job to dobeautiful," he said, spitting the last word as sarcastically as he could muster.

Though by all definition of the word, she was beautiful. Yet Six felt nothing, not even as she pressed her breasts up against his chest, not when those big doey green eyes blinked up at him with genuine interest and playfulness. He supposed most men would be revelling in such unusual forwardness. His co-worker was certainly staring at him with unhidden jealousy and irritation. Six, however, was not amused or aroused. Her attentions simply reminded him of how off-kilter he felt since his girl's disappearance. Now he wondered what expression Aki would paint if she was here to watch him explode this woman inside out. Would it be horror or that familiar blank stare, like she wasn't quite in her body. Maybe she'd float away if he weren't there to ground her to him.

"Come on," the woman said, trying to pull him away.

Six's fingers twitched. Then his hands went to her face, his quirk activating—and—

"Six, stop flirting and go take care of those unsanctioned fighters!" his boss yelled at him.

His quirk fizzled out, but he continued holding the drunk woman's face, staring into her eyes. She puckered her lips and closed her eyes in a misguided attempt at a kiss. Six sighed, taken away from a moment of glorious release. Instead he pried her off his body and made to do his job.

"Sorry sweetheart. I'll play with you another day," he said, mentally cataloguing her face as one he'd explode if he ever saw again.

She simply giggled, hiccupped, and then leaned up against the wall as his co-worker then swooped in to make his own moves. Six moved up against the crowd of adrenaline pumped spectators. It wasn't a death match night, but the fights were still brutal in the newly minted Smashery. Six fit right in as a known criminal. No one here cared that his face was plastered all over the news for murdering a woman or committing terrorism all those years ago. There were several other Villains here with similar, though less stellar, resumes. So he moved with some care towards the brawl that had broken out in the crowd.

"You cheated me you fucker!"

"I put the bet 30 to 10 just like we agreed to!"

Six didn't care about their squabbles, but this was his job, and he needed it badly. He needed it or he wouldn't know what he'd do.

In the blink of an eye he'd used Overclock. He clocked all 4 men involved in the altercation, his brain processed every detail of their person, from their occupation to their possible quirk abilities. The world was sharper now. O'Clock was a formidable hero for a reason. His quirk lay the world frozen. When Six used it he knew where he was going, what to do, and how to do it. The sense of control was euphoric. He knocked out the two instigators, smashing their faces together, and then catching the rest by using their jackets to tie up their arms together.

It was all over in the blink of a second. And Six was there, standing in front of the aftermath of his victory before anyone could even process was happened. His breathing was laboured from the quirk usage, and his brain fogged over for a brief moment. It always used too much oxygen the more he pushed. He didn't need to go that fast over such a petty squabble… but he needed the hit. He held his face and groaned as the high receded, taking with it his clarity.

He wanted to feel it again.

"Good job. Now kick them out," his boss ordered.

"But—" the men began to protest.

"—You know the rules. The only fights allowed are the ones everyone pays to watch," the bouncer grunted.

Six sighed and nodded, as his coworker came to help throw out the rule breakers. Once they had sufficiently chucked out the men and done their job, Six lit himself a cigarette outside the venue. He relaxed a little as the nicotine hit.

"Where's your fucked up buddy?" his coworker asked.

Six let out a plume of smoke, satisfied by the lack of that scarred up idiot. He'd fucked off. He hadn't waited for Aki to come back, not like Six would. He'd gone off to look for some villain group to join, one with enough power to accomplish whatever goal it was he was chasing after. Six had no goals to chase, just an impression of a person he wanted to be.

O'Clock flashed through his mind, fragmented, but always there. The sleek hero costume spoke to him. He coveted the assuredness, the singlemindedness, and the efficiency in which O'Clock had done his work. Now Six had his powers. But he never managed to become like his hero. Instead he was left to rot by the man he'd admired, supplanted by some wide eyed idiotic kid, and left to decompose in his own explosion.

A deranged laugh ripped from his throat, as he turned to the man, itching to use his explosive cells. "He fucked off. Like you should about now if you want to live."

The man took a step back, though his quills stuck out in a display of aggression himself. And as they stood there staring each other down, he decided to back down. Six turned and walked away.

"Fucking psycho," he heard the other man mutter.

Six was going insane so he wasn't entirely wrong. Slowly but surely his mind was becoming like an old sweater, whose ends were frayed and unravelling. His mind in these moments weren't entirely in the present. He remembered a wide smile, perfectly square teeth, an uncannily white hue to them. Fake. Just like that sweet voice telling him he was going to be perfect. The first in a long line of trials that worked. That sweet, horrible voice that reminded him he was nothing but a number. When Six looked down at his hands, they were stubs again, formless and shapeless like his mind without a moulder.

He screamed until his mouth was no more.

He screamed until he had no form.

He screamed until he sawher,turning towards him, a hand in the endless void of nothingness, a voice that was cold yet grounding. She held him and told him to get better.

Six stopped screaming when he saw Aki.


There wasn't much that made Koichi feel cold in his veins. He was a hero now, just the 'creepy guy' or the 'creepy crawler'. He became Skycrawler, a popular American hero and side kick to Captain Celebrity. It wasn't through any strength of his own. Koichi cherished the people around him. They were the ones who held him up, who walked him through the toughest of days, and when everything felt lost, their strength was what pushed his limits. And though he was used to fighting all number of dangerous villains in America now, there was always the one that woke him up at night.

Rokuro Nomura was once again on the news. Number Six was meant to be dead and gone, dusted by his own overused quirk. Yet here he was again, leaving behind more dead bodies in his wake. Koichi felt responsible. It was only after Christopher talked him down, reminding him he was still a criminal in Japan and that going there again could revoke his current hero licence, that Koichi backed down. Christopher had stuck out his neck, and the reputation of his hero counterpart Captain Celebrity, to take in Koichi as a sidekick. Stepping out of line and going back to Japan would not just put him at risk, but also trust in the American hero. The man had a child to look after too now. So Koichi waited for any news of Nomura's capture. None came.

Then sleepless nights turned into weeks, until Iwao called him to ask for his help. Not to take down Nomura, but to protect the girl he was with. Koichi didn't know what to do.

"You seem distracted," Christopher said as he began tying up a goon.

Koichi used his quirk to take out a target behind him, before slumping over to the unconscious figure and cuffing him with a sigh. Christopher grabbed a man behind him from hitting Koichi with a crowbar, though the ex-vigilante didn't really even notice in his slump.

"Distracted," Christopher said pointedly as he held up the last good and smashed his head in with the other, knocking the two out.

"I know, I know… it's just…"

"You're caught up on Nomura, huh?" Christopher asked.

Koichi nodded as he slumped forward and sighed deeply again. "It's like I just left a living time bomb in Japan and made it their problem."

"You shouldn't think of it that way. You're a pro-hero now. You know it's a shared responsibility. They aren't incompetent in Japan, I'd know."

While that was true, there was something about just leaving it to them that felt wrong. Six was his personal responsibility. It wasn't like he would say that about every villain he'd gone up against. But the way Six had gone after the people in his life, so single-mindedly tried to take him down… it felt personal. More personal than any other villain he'd ever fought. And while he and Pop Step had been adults when they'd fought Nomura, they had still been young barely twenties at the time. He couldn't imagine a 14-year-old child would be able to do much against that calibre of villain, let alone one Knuckleduster thought was scarier than Nomura had been.

"But—" Christopher continued, pulling Koichi's attention back to him, "You won't rest either unless you do this. I know that look in your eye, kid. You need this."

"I shouldn't. How would I even get through air security anyway? I'm a wanted man over there… sure nottoowanted, but I was a known Vigilante," Koichi said.

"You have an American visa now remember," Christopher reminded him.

"And?"

"You can still go back. Not as a hero, but as a tourist."

Koichi felt kinda stupid now that it was pointed out to him… he hadn't thought about going back in three years.

Christopher did his usual better-than-thou smirk. "Heh, also I do own a private jet."

Koichi slowly turned to the hero with an incredulous stare. "Why do you, theJet Heroneed a private jet?"

"Too much money?" Christopher shrugged.

Koichi shook his head fondly. Well, he was glad for that. Christopher may have shadily got him a pro-hero licence and citizenship in America using a whole load of money and influence, but he had his heart in the right place.

"When can I fly out?"

"That's the great thing about private jets, kid. Whenever you want."


Getting his kid involved was the last thing Iwao wanted to do. Tamao wasn't made for this life. She was an artist and a free spirit, not a fighter. Maybe if she were more suited to high stress environments, she could have been a great detective or investigative journalist with her quirk, but the truth was she was none of that. And Iwao loved her for it. The same way he loved his late wife for the way she approached the world with such wonder. Everyone had told him that a hero could never have a normal relationship with a civilian, that it was rare for it to work. Except it did work. Iwao loved his wife more than he loved his job, and then when they had Tamao, the girl became his entire world.

But all it took was for that one fated day to ruin it all. Iwao lost his quirk, but he didn't have to lose his family. Everything that happened after was his fault. He dove headfirst into destructive training, refusing to accept reality even when his hero licence was revoked and his name forgotten from public identity. He worked hard for years to gain back his strength, to be who he was before, and he'd neglected his sick wife, and his desperate daughter until it was too late.

His wife died and his daughter ran away. After that, he had no quirk and no family. Iwao was stripped bare of everything he'd cherished until Koichi came into his life to give him direction. And then he'd killed his own daughter to save her. After that everything was a blur. But while he was mending it all back together, it wasn't perfect. Tamao had lost her complete trust in him long before he lost his quirk. She stopped leaning on Iwao for advice, stopped sharing her new songs with him, and never allowed herself to be vulnerable with him again. But they were mending slowly.

So it was with great reluctance that he approached her to warn her away. He wanted Akiho to thrive, he wanted to save the girl, but not at the expense of his daughter. Never again.

"What is it dad?" Tamao asked, putting down her guitar to turn to him.

"You know before a storm, the way your knees ache?" he asked.

"Pfft no. I'm not that old yet," she snorted.

"Heh," he chuckled briefly before his smile dropped and Tamao turned to look at him with understanding. "You need to leave."

She sucked in a breath and then seemed to calm herself down as she searched his eyes.

"Why?"

Iwao grimaced. He wasn't the best with words. Not like this. Any way he said things, it would probably come out too inconsiderate, too callous, and Tamao would be hurt.

"Look, the kid's going through some shit. There's someone after her, and by extension me. You'll only get caught in the crossfire."

"You think I'm a nuisance, don't you," she sighed.

Iwao froze. "No—"

"You never liked that I wanted to be a musician because you wanted me to be a hero," she said, standing up and pointing accusingly at him.

Iwao couldn't even refute that, because it was the truth. He'd had high hopes for her. Her quirk would make her a great underground hero, and for a long time he'd hoped she'd join him as his sidekick. The brains to his brawn. However, like her mother, she had disregarded the starry-eyed dream of becoming a pro-hero. In fact, she didn't even have much interest in heroes, preferring to follow artists and singers instead. And what Iwao loved in his wife, he despised in his own daughter.

But when he saw her pick up the guitar again—now blind in one eye from a Queen Bee's attack, her arms still covered in deep bruises from the beating she had endured from him—and play, he had never been more captivated. And Iwao had been left remembering how he'd sit and listen to her perform as a child, always encouraging her to continue the craft, until the love for it became a desire to pursue it full-time. His tune changed and caused a break in something that was perfect.

"I did want you to be a hero, Tamao… without realising you were already one."

She turned to him with one wide eye. Her mouth opened but no words came out. Iwao wondered if he'd ever find the right words.

"Your music was—isamazing kiddo. When you left, I played it every hour of every day. It kept me going. Itsavedme. And you know what I heard when I was fighting Nomura on top of that building?"

She took in a deep breath, and Iwao slumped. "I heard your voice, kiddo. I heard your singing and thought, I gotta get out of this alive to hear it one last time. Then when Nomura shot me down, your music gave me the strength to move just in time not to die."

"I didn't—"

Iwao stood up and hugged his daughter. It was something he should have done years ago. And when she hugged back, he felt his entire world melt away. Tamao was crying and Iwao ran a comforting hand through her hair to calm her down.

"I should have said this a long time ago. Guess your old man sucks at saying the right thing, huh?"

"No, for once you didn't get it wrong. But you can't expect me to just leave this to you and Aki. She's practically ababy, and you're just an adult one."

Iwao chuckled at the insult. "I don't care that you never became a pro-hero Tamao, but it doesn't change the fact you're not equipped like one. You'll get yourself hurt following me into this."

Tamao backed up and wiped her tears as she glared up at him. "But it's okay for you to bring a 14-year-old into this? Dad, I'm an adult now. I can make up my own choices. Also—"

She handed him a drive. Iwao took it with a raised brow and Tamao grinned smugly at him.

"I did some investigating with the kid. We've tracked down the trigger manufacturer to its source," Tamao said.

"Any known individuals?" Iwao asked.

"Just a man who goes by Overhaul."


Of course, of course it had to be Overhaul. Aki prepped her katanas and strapped down her arsenal. Just when she was getting side tracked, the world seemed to remind her of her self-imposed mission. Aki considered leaving Knuckleduster altogether. She had watched him hug his daughter, admitting his worry for her—because ofAki. It was almost like she was a curse, though she refused to verbalise that sentiment. She wasn't a curse. This world was. This world had cursed her. That wasn't her fault.

She could hear her old sensei in her head, telling her to stop showing weakness. 'What a basic as ninja rule', he would say in exasperation when her team would cry. And Aki had cried a lot. She'd cried when her teammates died. She'd cried when her sensei died. She'd cried alotwhen she watched her little brother get murder. She even cried when her father had abandoned her in this life. She'd never cried because someone she loved had hugged her and told her it was all going to be okay—because that was a dumb fucking time to cry… and barely anyone would hug someone like her.

Here she was playing Hero, and she wasn't even getting paid for it. Never had the urge to flip a table been so strong, but she wasn't going to destroy Tamao's room. That would just be rude. So she seethed, at the world, at herself, at this stupid situation. She needed to call Yamato if she was going to do this. The man deserved at least that much. And she wasn't about to do it with Knuckleduster—not now, not after the way he'd hugged his daughter. So she picked up her bag and made to leave.

"Where are you going?" Tamao asked her.

Aki turned around and grimaced. "I have a mission to do."

"Alone? Are you suicidal or something?" Tamao asked.

Aki glared. "I have allies. Knuckleduster won't kill this fucker, but I will. Who was I kidding? Me a hero… it wouldn't work."

"So you're just up and abandoning him? You know he cares about you, right?" Tamao asked, getting in front of Aki.

"Step aside."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll beat some sense into you," Iwao said, stepping out of the room.

Aki turned to the man and glared in finality. She had gone and gotten herself attached to the worst person possible. Knuckleduster was a thick headed, absolutely stubborn fool who wouldn't let her go without a fight. And he had a daughter. He hadfamily.

"You couldn't beat me if you tried," she challenged.

"Oh, our spars beg to differ," he said grinning.

Aki scoffed. "I wasn't using my quirk. I wasn't using my weapons. You may beat me in a straight fist fight old man, but never when I'm going all out. Now do you want to let me go or do we need to fight?"

Iwao sighed and stepped back, though he looked confused by her sudden turn of character. Aki didn't want to explain herself. The way her instincts screamed at her to run far away always kept her alive. She was hoping for once that it would keep him alive.

"You're scared."

She froze, and turned to give him a sharp look, daring him to say one more word.

"You're scared of asking for help, so you're going off to do things alone."

"Shut up," she hissed, taking a step forward.

If he wanted a fight, she would give him one. Iwao didn't stop, but the man wasn't smiling either and that made Aki angry. His eyes were daring her to fight him, and the challenge heckled her.

"I didn't train you to be a coward," he said.

"I saidshut up!"Aki shouted, before throwing a punch.

It landed with a hard crack, and Iwao was knocked back onto the couch, his nose red with blood. He didn't even try to move out of the way. Something manic rose up inside of her, the kind of buzzing electricity of shot nerves, and pumping adrenaline. And she realised that she was in fact scared. Scared would actually be an understatement. She was terrified, and breathing was difficult. She could hear the thumping of her flitting heart in her ears. It was like she was in the heat of battle, but there was none of the base instincts of survival that kept her running clear headed.

"Breathe kid," Iwao reminded her.

"I'm fucking breathing," she shouted back.

"Slower," he said pointedly.

Aki realised she was in fact panting. She took a step back and reassessed her situation. There was no reason to feel this strongly. No reason to fear this much. Her eyes darted around the room, but there was no sign of Rukiya. But she must have been here to elicit such a strong panic in Aki. She was known for her stoicism and harshness. Aki picked up her katana and both Tamao and Iwao stood in defence.

"Aki, put the sword down," Tamao said, voice tinged with nervousness.

"She has to be here," Aki hissed, head darting around the room.

"She's not here. Kid—Aki look at me. She's not here," Iwao said, taking a step forward.

Aki pointed her sword at Iwao, and he stopped his assent. She gripped the blade tighter and inhaled to calm herself down.

"She can turn into mist. She's been tracking me for months. I've never managed to pinpoint her before, not even with my security system. You can'tknowshe's not here. Step aside or I'll cut off your hand."

"Don't you trust me?" Iwao asked, expression falling.

"It's not about trust. It's a matter ofstrength. I stay here and I know you'll end up in a body bag!"

The outburst had the room fall into silence. Aki lowered her sword as her shell cracked and she covered her face with her hands tiredly.

"I can't take you away from your daughter," she whispered.

Embarrassingly, she didn't even have the energy to throw him off when he came in and gave her a hug. Weakness had her holding him back tightly.

"Aki, you may as well be my daughter too," Iwao said.

"What?" she whispered.

Tamao put a comforting hand on her shoulder and smiled down at her. "Yeah, we've pretty much adopted you. Just need to sign the papers now."

She shook her head. "Why? I'm just some… person you found and are training. I'm not worth this. You don't even get anything out of this but trouble."

"Do we need a reason to help out somebody in need?" Iwao asked.

Aki found herself shaking. Tears threatened to spill out, but that would be stupid. Who cried because someone gave them a hug and told them everything would be okay? What idiot would offer to help someone for nothing in return? Why was she about to cry on someone without a quirk, who by all definition of the word was weakness itself?

Soft things die

But Aki melted into Iwao and Tamao, and she sobbed. And her tears weren't received with disappointment or reproach, but rather a warm embrace. All it took was for one person to accept her for all her imperfections, to call her family, for her to buckle.

"I'm weak," she mumbled through her tears.

"Crying isn't a weakness kid, and neither is kindness," Tamao said, as if reading her mind.

And for once Aki believed them. She believed that she could change. Maybe she already had changed. For some stupid reason, she wanted to do things the old man's ways. She wanted to learn to be good.


A/N

Family huggggg Honestly this chapter was a lot of fun to write. Though shit's going to go down soon. Expect a lot of action coming soon.

Comments:

doa570047- She really is at a crossroads like you've said. Things won't be easy from here on out, but it will take a turn I don't think most people would expect... or I hope it isn't too predictable. I don't think she'll ever be anything other than in the gray area, because I don't think the world is as easy as good and bad like most shounen portray it to be. It was one of my biggest gripes with MHA. I thought a story about heroes would really unpack moral questions of good and bad, but it barely grazes it, and when it does approach a complicated question it backtracks to make heroes out to be the good guys no matter what. I don't want to fall into that trap. In saying that Aki is not inherently a heroic or good person either. So given the right circumstances she would commit war crimes lol.