His sudden windfall was used to buy a cheap sandwich from a stall. It was dry, and the taste was dubious at best, but it did its job and would allow him to ignore hunger for a while longer. The city life was now in full motion around him, and the morning lethargy was gone, replaced by an anxious bundle of everything. The few hundred people around him were each a distinct nuance of emotion he could touch with his mind. Focused as he was at keeping them at bay, he couldn't tell one from the other. It was like being surrounded by hundreds of tiny bees. Focusing on a single one was okay, but too many at once, and he risked getting swept away by the wave. He didn't want to turn into a crying, bleeding mess on the sidewalk. It wasn't the most fun experience he'd ever had.
Takuma felt a strong wave of emotion coming from the middle of the street: anger, rage, wrath. In short, not good. Turning his head toward the sudden rush, he found a man in his middle forties with obvious mutations around his shoulder giving him an extra pair of powerful arms. He had a single gray horn in the middle of his forehead, and he was wearing a blue-stained overall. Takuma didn't need an empathy Quirk to realize the man was drunk. His bloodshot eyes were glaring at the mechanics shop in front of him, and the addicting feeling of anger was seeping out of him like a waterfall.
Around him, no one seemed to notice the man on the edge of blowing up. Takuma couldn't do anything; his emotional manipulation was strong, but he couldn't act easily against a strong mind or one who was solely focused on a single goal.
"Kishima, you bastard!" the man thundered in the middle of the street. "You fucking dared to fire me, after all I've done for you!"
The movement of the crowd stilled as those who had heard the very loud mutant scream stopped to watch. Barely a heartbeat later, the man who seemed to be the shop-owner stormed into the street. "Back again, you lousy drunk! I told you to leave!"
"I've shed blood, sweat, and tears for this shop!" retorted the man. "I was working here before you were even born, and you fired me for a fucking beer!"
The crowd was eating up the show like a Saturday morning cartoon.
"You nearly killed someone!" shouted the younger man, who couldn't be much older than his early twenties. "I warned you enough times not to come to work drunk. Now leave, before the heroes show up."
"I built this shop with your father, and now that he's gone, I have the right to destroy it. HEROES BE DAMNED."
The man grabbed something from his pocket and stabbed it into his arm. Takuma felt every second of the revolting liquid seeping into the man's bloodstream. Trigger.
"RAAAARRGH!" the mutant thundered as he grew in height. His body doubled in size, and Takuma didn't doubt for a second that this was all muscle. He proved it a second later as he grabbed a nearby car and threw it at the shop's front window.
The crowd ran, and Takuma was relieved that the shop owner had made it inside before the car slammed into the shop front. Glass shattered, and screams rang out as the man, whose mind was now far away in his own world of red, blinding rage, started to punch the car in a bid to get to the inside of the shop. Takuma turned and started walking away. He couldn't use his Quirk to stop that thing, and he certainly couldn't lift a car with his dick last time he checked, so it was a dud either way. There was nothing he could do, not a thing, nope.
Fear. It was the single most felt emotion in this world, common to every human being. Something that had been a constant in his life since he had first opened his eyes. Something he could feel coming from inside the mechanic shop. It was so clear he could even touch the memories of those inside if he wanted to. A quick scan revealed seven men, four women, and three children. From one of the memories he couldn't stop in time, he learned one of those children's name was Shikuso, and today he was four. For his birthday, his mom had taken him to the mechanic's shop so he could watch the owner repair a car. And man, Takuma could tell this kid loved cars. He turned in the direction of the man on the trigger, still bashing his way into the shop. He knew the kid's name.
'Oh well, life sucks anyway.'
First things first, a weapon. His fist wouldn't do much against Hulk's smaller cousin, and he needed some reach. Looking around, he found a loose pipe hanging off a wall in a nearby alley. A quick tug, and the meter-long pipe was firmly in his grasp. Then came the second and most difficult part: don't die.
The car was already starting to give, so Takuma needed to grab the villain's attention and fast. He ran at him, pushing as far as he could into the man's mind. He was greeted by single-minded wrath and focus, which meant he didn't even have to hide while making his way behind him. Takuma gripped his rusted pipe like a baseball bat and absolutely slammed it into the back of the right knee of the mutant with every ounce of strength he had in him.
"Graargh!" the man roared in pain as Takuma dodged the clumsy swipe he felt coming through his link. "I'm going to FUCKING KILL YOU."
He had his attention, good. A punch missed him by a wide margin as he backpedaled hurriedly. The concrete of the sidewalk broke into a spider pattern when a clumsy overhead strike struck it. Less good. Distance was the name of the game; four arms and the strength to rip apart a man wasn't something he wanted to cuddle with. He was more than happy to keep kiting the man away from the shop. He needed space to move, and the walls were more of a hindrance than anything else.
A punch, a grab, and a slap in quick succession, he weaved between the three arms trying to kill him and counter-attacked with a strike to the same right knee he had struck before. He needed to hamper his mobility, and one less working leg would do the trick if he didn't get his spine ripped out first.
Duck and roll, strike the back of the leg. Jump back, weave around the hand, enter the guard (or lack thereof), hit the knee again, and roll between the legs. Use his confusion and hammer the same point before backpedaling to evade a clumsy grab. Swipe the hand and fail to break a finger.
Even while being fed the man's intent, it was still a close fight. He had done next to no damage, and his stamina was already telling him to get bent. Being underweight wasn't something he had found a way out of yet.
"You VILLAIN!" the man roared in unhinged frustration. "I will rip your spine!"
'Getting some mixed signals there, buddy.'
Again and again, he had to step away from the barreling mass of muscle. Slowing down wasn't an option, and he pushed through the strain of his muscles to evade another set of aimless swipes that led him to a massive two-handed strike that again seemed to do no damage.
The rage burned even brighter, and through the emotion, he felt the grab coming his way. Takuma sidestepped the hands, delivered a second two-handed strike from above, heard a disgusting crack, and then felt the counter-attack take the form of a two-armed swipe that would send him flying. He jumped back, and his back hit a lamppost, stopping him in his tracks.
'Shit.'
Pain bloomed from his shoulder to his ribs and neck; everything was nothing but white-hot for a second before he slammed into a glass window and landed among the aisles. Something struck the back of his head; he couldn't tell what exactly, but for a second, his vision became blurry as nausea assaulted him.
A deep, painful inhale brought him back to the moment, and he immediately started to get back to his feet. Shaking his head to try to get his bearings, he realized he wasn't alone in the shop. An elderly woman was holding a pair of bags protectively in front of her, as if to protect herself from the missile he once was. A teenager was on his phone behind the counter, and he saw some cleaning lady hiding behind him. For his part, Hulk's smaller cousin was trying his best to come and finish the job; the only reason he wasn't already on him was because of his shattered knee. The leg hung limply, and he looked like he was in a noticeable amount of pain. Not that Takuma could feel any coming from him.
"Sorry for the mess," Takuma said while dusting himself off of the glass and dust, stopping when he noticed the half-broken bottle of whiskey with still most of its content in it. "If I have to fight that guy, I'm sure as hell not doing it sober."
He grabbed the bottle, twirled it around in its container, and slammed it back to the last drop. The burn, the heat, it was heavenly. Fuck, did he miss this. "I should have never quit drinking."
Heaving a sigh of relief, he chuckled to himself. "Alright, ugly, round two."
He dropped the now-empty bottle and picked up his pipe that had fallen right in front of the shop during his flight. "I could really use a hero right now."
Speaking was hard for some reason, as if he was suddenly dealing with a hangover.
Then the man charged him again, pain forgotten after the short amount of time he felt it. His leg hung limply behind him as he crawled like a spider toward him. Takuma chuckled again.
'Should have seen that one coming.'
He received the charge by jumping to the side and cracking the mutant on the back of the head. A punch clipped him on the side and sent him rolling away. He was on his feet a second later, just in time to duck under a grapple, slip under the man's armpit, and slam his pipe with two hands on the mutant's shoulder, once, twice, three times before he was sent packing by an elbow to the chest that pushed the air out of his lungs for a second time.
Breathing was nice, Takuma thought, and lately, he wasn't doing much of that. Trying to get enough air into his system was a challenge he was currently failing, and he was losing track of the number of stars he saw in his vision, which wasn't reassuring in the slightest. Somewhere behind the rampaging heteromorph, the car actually hit the ground, and the group of people trapped in the shop started to make their escape. Good. Also, he should probably try to get to his feet now.
Standing up was hard, but the promise of being ripped apart was a good motivator. His limbs felt like they were made of lead, and his mind was swimming with pain, but he sure as hell was still breathing, and he was more than ready to make it everybody's problem.
Then a giant foot fell on the heteromorph. Confused, Takuma raised his head, just in time to be met with the full view of the massive crotch of Mount Lady.
Or not. Takuma was more than happy to sit his ass back down. Let other people do the work for a change. He was feeling dizzy and didn't look forward to waking up tomorrow; those bruises would last him for a few months at least. Oh, and he was bleeding from his head; some had gotten into his left eye, and it was starting to sting.
"You, you are under arrest for an act of vigilantism," Mount Lady declared while pointing at him and striking up a pose that accentuated her backside.
Takuma heaved a dejected sigh. "You do realize if you don't step off of him soon, he's not going to make it."
He wasn't really; Mount Lady wasn't putting all her weight on him. She was a hero, and making a mess of the villain she fought didn't bode well for her reputation. Takuma could feel the mutant was more or less out of commission as the trigger slowly started to leave him.
"You both won't be harmed; don't resist, and they won't sentence you too harshly," she said as she shrunk to a standard human size. "Taking justice into your own hands is a slippery slope; you should have waited for a hero."
Her voice was loud, and he didn't need his Quirk to tell she was putting on a show for all the people who were more or less hiding either in their homes, shops, or behind the curb. It was some easy posturing to bring her rating up; he usually didn't mind much as long as the job was done. A bit of showmanship didn't hurt. Today, however, he was in pain and had no intention of going to jail.
"Pretty big talk for a bimbo that didn't do shit until I was nearly done with him," Takuma said as he got to his feet with some difficulty. "Also, you can put those vigilantism charges up your ass, sweetheart."
He left the rusted pipe on the ground; he wouldn't beat her in a fight, nor did he want to. He had enough for today; he just needed some shock and awe to get her on the defensive. Walking toward her with his hand raised in surrender to make sure she wasn't about to stomp him into the ground like the mutant.
Her mood immediately switched from triumphant glee to shocked indignation. "Excuse me?!"
"First, what the hell took you so long to get here? If that's how fast you can react to a villain attack, no wonder I had to step in to avoid casualties," Takuma said while dusting himself off with a wince. He knew his argument was flawed; she had gotten here in record time, but he needed her to doubt herself before he could deliver the finishing blow. "Second, my Quirk is Empathy; I can feel people's emotions. It doesn't help me in a fight, you massive buffoon."
Surprise; he could feel the shape of her retort forming behind her eyes. He wouldn't escape a few hours in jail even if he was telling the truth, so he needed to seed the idea in her mind that he hadn't broken the law, even if he absolutely did just a second ago. "So you see, sweetheart, next time you go on the field, fucking deal with the threat first!"
He shouted while pointing to the mutant slowly rising to his feet behind her.
Takuma had pushed him to stand with some anger and wrath sent straight into his thoughts; he was more or less out and a threat to no one. But since he had entered villain territory, Takuma didn't feel particularly bad about using him as a means to escape.
Mount Lady turned.
Takuma booked it into the nearest alley while the heroine delivered a high kick to the mutant that broke his nose, making Takuma wince as the first bit of second-hand pain made it through his link. The adrenaline had left the man, and he could now feel what he felt in greater detail. He was just glad the man had still been out from the drug when he had been stepped on; Takuma wouldn't have enjoyed the second-hand wave of pain.
Speaking of pain, his entire left side was screaming at him to slow down; his vision was swimming, and the vision in his left eye had taken on a red tint he didn't particularly enjoy. But he needed to keep moving; other heroes were probably already flocking to the place of the fight, and he knew some would probably try to chase after him for some leftover recognition. He wouldn't survive a night in jail and not even a minute next to a hospital; he couldn't afford to get caught, not if it left him in the hands of fame-hungry morons who wouldn't listen to him. He couldn't take a risk like that.
Takuma slammed into a wall and tried to catch his breath without success. It was getting hard to maintain his pace, and he allowed himself a moment to think. Around him, most people were either busy or watching the news about Mount Lady saving the day, which was good since it meant less attention on him. A mind brushed his psyche; this one was focused solely on him. It was far, at the edge of his Quirk; he was being followed. Damn it.
Ducking into another alleyway and praying the hero on his trail didn't have a tracking Quirk, Takuma tried to increase his pace, but it was futile. His whole body hurt, and it was starting to become difficult to think clearly. In a last-ditch attempt to escape his pursuer, Takuma hid behind a dumpster in the hope of losing them. Thinking became harder by the second, and his eyes fluttered shut before he knew it.