–October 13th, 2108 – Morioh Town Hospital-
Yoshimura Kira was nervous, excited, and concerned—he was feeling a lot of things at the moment, and why wouldn't he be? His wife, Yoshikawa Kira, had gone into labour a few hours ago, starting at three in the morning through to now. Currently, It was 7 AM, and she had still been in the hospital room, giving birth to his daughter! He was going to be a Dad! A part of him had been worried about how he was going to approach such a monumental task with the job that he had. However, he tried not to think about it too hard.
But, that didn't mean he was completely free from fear. He had a lot of enemies, and those enemies would see to it that he'd die, and they'd use anything that they possibly could to get to him, including his wife and child.
And while that was a fear he had, there was a worse fear that he had. One that had chilled him to the bone, even more than the potential use of his wife and child as bait to get him to do something he would otherwise regret.
What if he was like his biological Dad and never showed up for his wife and child when they needed him? What if he was absent like his biological Dad had been? What if? What if, what if, what if? That was all that was clouding his mind. He didn't want to be like his biological Dad. He couldn't be like his biological Dad. He refused to be like his biological Dad. Being an absent father was a sin in and of itself, let alone the fact that it should've been a crime.
Yoshimura's father was a mystery to him. His mother said that it was a one-night stand and that despite it only lasting for one night, she had believed that it was the closest thing that she would've ever felt to true love—despite already being married for 8 years at that point, add an extra two before she gave birth to him, of course. He had a stepfather who didn't know about his mother's betrayal, well that was until he was 16 years old, but still.
Before knowing that Yoshimura wasn't his biological son, he was an amazing dad. They'd play games at the park, and watch movies in the theatre if they had the time to. He would read him stories when he was younger, and when he got older he taught him how to defend himself after he had been found to be Quirkless.
He had wished for it to stay that way, but when his stepfather found out the ugly truth, he disappeared. He'd get calls from him from time to time, and he even would come over for his birthdays. But outside of that, he never interacted with his ex-wife after that, or him for that matter, at least not as much as Yoshimura would've wanted.
Yoshimura understood that and he couldn't blame the guy either. He could've only imagined the pain that his step-father had suffered. He couldn't imagine being lied to for 18 long years. The marriage was a sham, and it was a shame, too.
He had assumed that it was a loving marriage but found out in the most painful way possible that ten years into the marriage, the spouse he thought had been loyal turned out to have cheated on him. ten years in, the woman of his step-father's dreams had ripped that perfect little picture into ribbons.
She single-handedly turned what could've been something beautiful into something else entirely. Add on to the fact that Yoshimura, the son that his step-father thought he had wasn't even his own flesh and blood, but was rather the product of something horrible, made it sting that much more.
Though now that he was an adult, his stepfather was more present in his life and had been happy to learn that his son in every way but blood was having a daughter of his own. He was glad that his stepfather was still in his life, and that he at least had him to fall back on if something happened.
The same could not have been said for his biological father.
He didn't know what his real father looked like, nor did he know what his first name was. The only real thing that his mother ever told him about his biological father was that he was a nice man, at least from the outset.
But, there was another thing that he did know about his biological father, well, outside of what his mother had told him. Yoshimura knew something that not even his mother knew, and that was his last name: Kujo.
But how, exactly? Well, simply because he had been mistaken for the man by someone else—the librarian at the local library. Apparently, he and his biological father looked alike somehow. But, then again, it made sense in that regard, didn't it? The saying did go: Like Father, Like Son.
He had done some research into the Kujo family name and found that they were heavily tied to the Joestar family, rich elites in the early 20th century until World War 1 broke out. Still, he couldn't figure out who it was in the Kujo family tree that had an affair with his mother, but he had some ideas of who it could've been.
Then again, most of the Kujo men looked alike, so even if he were to guess, it would've been extremely difficult to do so. But, if he were to put a massive pin on it, it would've had to have been Jouta Kujo. Jouta was one of the three kids birthed by Jolyne Cujoh, and out of the three, he was the only son—a living son. There was Holly Kujo the 2nd, Jonathon Kujo, who died in childbirth, and Jouta Kujo.
A part of him wanted to meet his extended family but feared that it would cause ripples within it, so he decided against it. After all, he didn't want to be a homewrecker like his birth father had been.
His shoulder ached, but then again it usually did—he chalked it up to his birthmark acting up again. No one in his family had his particular Star-shaped Birthmark, so he chalked it up to it being his absent father's birthmark, seeing as his mom said he had the same thing and noticed it when they were having sex in that dingy bar.
Would that mean his daughter would have the same birthmark? No, of course not, birthmarks weren't hereditary…. Were they? Well, maybe, but he thought it to not be the case. It was just a coincidence that he and his birth father had shared the same star-shaped Birthmark on the back of their left shoulder near the nape of their neck. Nothing more, nothing less. It wasn't like his daughter was going to have it either, right?
As for Yoshimura himself, what was there to say?
Yoshimura Kira, formerly Yoshimura Sugimoto, was a healthy, athletic young man, aged 29 years old. His hair was a shade of brown, and his eyes perfectly matched the colour of his hair to a tee. His skin was fair, just like most people he knew, and he had been wearing a white tank top and a pair of blue and white-speckled boxer briefs.
What? He had just gotten out of bed to drive his wife to the hospital! No one could blame him for looking like he had just woken up—mostly because that was the case, but that had hardly mattered. He was just glad he had the chance to be here, he had specifically called in to work for both him and his wife to be on paternity leave.
Unfortunately, they only allowed her to be off. But, eh, what was he going to do? It wasn't like The Speedwagon Foundation was going to just let one of their top researchers and businessmen just disappear for a year to take after a child… unfortunately so.
Sure, his wife was also a member of The Speedwagon Foundation, but she had been a secretary, as well as a budget manager, of which the company had loads of—that and it was a job that could be done at home, so that was why they let her off the hook.
Speaking of work, he had to catch a plane to get back to the China branch at midnight tonight. He had more research he had to attend to revolving around The Stand Creating Virus that The Stand Arrow had lurking within it, and how it reacted to people with Quirks and their DNA. So far his research had proven inconclusive, but he was going to find out what happened one way or another.
Another hour passed and it was now 8 am. His patience and worry were wearing thin, and for good reason too. He was beginning to believe the worst had happened. It wasn't uncommon for the mother of the child to die giving birth—despite all the medical enhancements the 22nd century had allowed, but that didn't change the fact that it was still a common occurrence.
Still, he wasn't going to give up, not unless he was told otherwise. He had faith in his wife and faith in the nurses and doctors helping to give birth to his daughter. Speaking of doctors, One of them who had been helping his wife give birth stepped out of the room, causing Yoshimura to shoot up from the chair that he had been sitting on just outside of the hospital room door. "Doctor, please tell me—"
"Everything is fine. Your wife is stable, and your daughter is completely healthy. Do you want to see her?" The doctor asked as Yoshimura, without another word, pushed past the doctor and into the room. There, he saw the small child in the arms of Yoshikawa, who looked conflicted.
She hadn't been too keen on having a child, but he had insisted. When she got pregnant, she wanted to abort the fetus, but he said no. There were two reasons for this. For one, it was illegal, and the last thing he wanted was for his wife to go to jail over something like this, and the second reason was because that he believed that if he were to ever meet his extended family, it would be when he had a legacy of his own and that he could introduce his child to the family.
He also had a contingency. One that he had told Yoshikawa that she should do if something bad ever happened to him. If he were to disappear for any reason, and not make contact with her for months at a time, she was to contact the CEO of The Speedwagon Foundation, and his half-brother, and tell him that she could not take care of her child and that the child was a Joestar, and that she needed a new home.
It might've been a bad thing to do, but that way, Yoshikawa could continue to live the life she wanted without being weighed down by the responsibility of taking care of a child. Not only would it give his child a better life, but it would ensure that his wife was happy.
Yoshikawa wasn't against the idea, but she was hesitant to agree to it. She knew why he had suggested that in the first place. It was because of her Bipolar Disorder, and how it affected her. While at first she was offended that had been his secondary reason, she had come to see reason, and then, a few weeks later, her water broke, and now here they were.
Now looking at the child—his child—he couldn't help but feel tears well up in his eyes. She had soft-peach fuzz-like hair on her head, blond in colour just like her mother, and while her eyes had been closed, it was clear that she was going to have the same ocean-blue eyes her mother had. Her skin was a tannish pale, again, a lot like her mother, and she had been, in fact, a girl for obvious reasons.
The baby was quiet, an abnormality in most newborns, but it was a great surprise. He so badly wanted to hold the fragile infant, but he didn't want to upset her, seeing as Yoshikawa had her close to her chest, allowing the baby to listen to her heartbeat.
"She looks just like you, honey…." Yoshimura said, walking up to Yoshikawa and the child as she gave him a faint smile.
"I thought you had left for work already…?" Yoshikawa asked as Yoshimura scoffed.
"Please, and miss out on seeing my daughter being born? Yeah, right. I told the executives that I wasn't going to be in till tomorrow, then I have to fly back out to China again," Yoshimura said, frowning at the last bit mentioned. "Believe me, I don't want to, but you and I both know what would happen if I didn't," Yoshimura followed up as Yoshikawa sighed, trying to keep a smiling face at all times.
"I know…. Can we change the subject? I… I want to ask you something… about our daughter. When the doctors took her to inspect her and to make sure she wasn't sick… they saw a weird groove in her skin, like a star. It was by her neck…. what does that mean?" Yoshikawa asked as Yoshimura's eyes widened.
"So it was hereditary…." He muttered, causing Yoshikawa to blink, concern in her eyes as she spoke.
"What was? Is it bad? Should we ask the doctor if—"
"Calm down, dear, nothing's wrong. It's just a birthmark. Is it by the nape of the neck?" Yoshimura asked as Yoshikawa nodded. Yoshimura sighed, crossing his arms as he took a seat beside his wife's bed. "So it really wasn't just random then. I have that birthmark too… my mother doesn't, so it probably came from my estranged father. But, let's change the subject. I think I have a name for our little bundle of joy over here." Yoshimura said as Yoshikawa raised an eyebrow.
"Already? Can I hear it?" She asked, tired eyes meeting joyous ones as Yoshimura smiled. There was a brief moment of silence. He had thought about this name for a long time. A name that would make sense, and one that stuck in line with the Kira family tradition—which he was brought into by his wife.
He was going to honour that tradition, and so, with that, he spoke the name of his newlyborn daughter
"Yoshihara."
[XXXX]
Kyoka was frustrated, and for good reason. She had been completely, and utterly embarrassed. Made a mockery of by Kira, and now she had a large, ugly scar that ran down from the front of her shoulder to the upper section of her back. It was thanks to Recovery Girl and the abundance of drugs she had to take for her wound to scar as fast as it had, but the point still remained.
To make matters even worse, it was a mistake. Kira, apparently, hadn't meant for the bombs that she had detonated to have been as powerful as they had been. Something about not taking into account the amount of damage multiple of the same bomb would do after going off at once.
If it were on purpose, then she would've been mostly fine with it, but the fact that it was an accident made it oh-so-much worse for her.
Her parents were worried, but she didn't really care what they thought. Especially after what Beelz had revealed to her a few weeks ago. She found it very hard to take anything that they said seriously, and she doubted she ever would again.
To think that, for all these years, she had been drugged by her own parents with illicit substances. All for what? To "mellow her out" as her mother had said? Yeah, right. She doubted it was for anything good, and frankly, she was glad that she didn't remember. For all she knew, they could've been doing some horrid stuff to her, but that was just speculation.
Kyoka sat in her room, absentmindedly strumming her base guitar, trying to make a slightly good-sounding tone to forget about yesterday's horrendous performance. Her parents tried to make her feel better about it by suggesting her favourite meal tonight, that being curry, but even that didn't get her out of her foul mood.
No longer was she wearing her school uniform. She had long since changed out of that mess. Now, she was wearing a pair of blue ripped jeans and a black tank top with pink thunder and skull decals. One of the shoulder straps hung down over her right shoulder, revealing a thinner strap. To top it all off, around her neck was a spiked collar that covered the base of her neck.
Her parents were always iffy about the way she dressed, especially her mother, but that wasn't here or there. If they had a problem with how she dressed, they could shove it for all she cared. Plus, they were massive hypocrites. They were literally doing illegal activities and they had the gall to say that the way she dressed was inappropriate? The nerve!
Then again, it was that kind of attitude that got her to this point, now wasn't it? The "her way or the highway" kind of attitude. It had been one of those things that she had since she was able to form words. No matter what, and no matter who it was, she always tried to force her opinions on others. Her ways on others. But that didn't help her very much. Especially in school….
Ever since she was a young child—since she was slowly remembering everything from her childhood—above all else, she always had the determination to become something more. Be it a rockstar, a hero, or something more ambitious like an astronaut—which yes, was something that she wanted to be at some point in her life—she always wanted to shoot for the most popular occupation. The one that would give her the most fame and fortune.
But even before all of that, she wanted to be the top of that very thing. She wanted to be the number one. She wanted to be above number one. She wanted to be the best. But she knew that would never come to pass. No matter how hard she tried, she would never be the best of the best. She lacked the talent.
At least, that's what everyone always told her. But that was something she buried deep for a reason. Her pride wouldn't allow her to remember what those stupid kids said to her… what those stupid kids pushed her to do.
Kyoka flinched at the mere thought of that. Her right hand rubbed against her throat, specifically where she now wore her choker. That had been a dark time in her life, and a time that she would never forget. It was during that she had a strange, almost unreal kind of dream. She had been sent to the hospital and had actually been in a coma for about a handful of weeks. In that coma, she spoke to… someone.
She didn't know who exactly it was. Hell, she couldn't make out who the person was. All she could make out was their deep, yellow eyes, and deep soothing voice. Surrounding them was a large, empty, white room and the individual sat shirtless in a velvet red chair. His face was a mystery to her, but she remembered his voice vividly.
Their conversation had been… strange. He never bothered asking her name, claiming to have already known it. He asked her a series of questions, all of which had pretty straightforward answers. He asked her what she'd sacrifice to be at the top, and she replied with everyone around her, to which he smiled. He then asked if she would ever stop trying to reach the pinnacle, and she replied with "never" because there was no such thing.
And then, he asked a strange question. A question that she didn't quite understand. He asked her if she believed in Gravity. She asked him to elaborate, but he did not. He said that he would return at a later date, and ask her the same three questions and that if she succeeded in answering them, he would "grant her something special." Whatever that meant.
Then, she woke up.
When she awoke, the doctors were moments away from pulling the plug, at her parent's request. She never remembered that moment up until now, and to have found out that her parents were willing to kill her had set a fury off in her like no other. The fact that they were willing to do that made them horrible parents.
They tried to tell her that her body was failing, and this and that, and that they wou;dn't have had enough money to fix her, but clearly that wasn't the case! She was here, and she was alive! She was perfectly fine, and to tell her otherwise was a lie!
How dare they tell her that she should've quit! How dare they!
If there was one thing that Kyoka Jirou wasn't, it was a quitter. She'd soon rather die than quit because of something so minuscule. It would humiliate her name to give up after such a minor failure. Well… minor it may be, but it completely fudged her appearance. Made her look weak. And if there was another thing that Kyoka Jirou was not, it was weak.
She refused to be weak. Never again would she ever consider herself weak!
"I'm not weak…" Kyoka near growled, before unconsciously slamming the wall of her bedroom with her right hand, causing a small crack in the wall to form. Another crack her father would have to fix. Good. It was the only thing he ever did right, anyway. Being a father was not one of those things.
She looked at the wall, then back down at her base guitar before sighing, as she put it down and laid against the side of her bed. It was a gift from her father when she got out of the hospital. Absentmindedly, her left hand rubbed at her neck again, right over her choker.
"But if I'm not weak… then why did I ever do that…." Kyoka muttered, narrowing her eyes as she stared at the floor. She partially remembered that day. It was but a blurry memory. But it was one that stained her mind. For the last few years of her life, she had been horrendously mocked, bullied, and pushed into a corner. All because of her Quirk.
Mutants were often treated less than shit. Even with minor mutations such as herself. They were seen as monsters. And it didn't help that everyone who had a mutant Quirk would lash out violently and end up proving those people right.
It even affected her…
Her head hurt. She clutched the side of her head, grunting. On her desk in her room was a bottle of pills. She stared at the bottle, sweat building up on her forehead. She had gone two weeks without taking them, and she didn't need them.
She didn't need them.
She didn't need the fucking pills!
Yet, here she sat, at the edge of her bed, staring at the pill bottle. She got up from her bed and walked over to her desk, and picked up the pill bottle. For a moment, she thought about taking them. Just one more time. One more dose. She'd be okay. It was only one more dose….
Her anger spiked, and she found herself snarling. She gripped the pill bottle, and without hesitation, she turned, faced the window of her bedroom, and threw the pill bottle out of the window, shattering it in the process.
Those pills didn't control her life! Nothing would control her ever again! Not the pills, not her parents, and not other people's opinions! She had already let their toxic words get to her before, and she had survived her own stupidity. She wasn't going to let it happen again.
She wasn't going to be seen as weak ever again! She would show the world the real Kyoka Jirou. The one who had been buried under medication, and the one who would make those around her pay for their misdeeds.
A sigh escaped her lips as she slumped against her desk, running a hand through her hair. She was a fool. A damned fool. She had been so caught up in her hatred for Kujo and his family that she neglected the thing that actually meant real value to her.
Her pride.
Her hatred for that pathetic family could wait. She had more important things to worry about, and it was about time she reclaimed what was rightfully hers—her life.
Shoving her hands into her pockets, Kyoka glanced over to the mirror and frowned. She walked over to the mirror and brushed her hand through her hair for a second time, and what she saw made her grimace. Over a dozen of her roots had begun to turn blonde, which infuriated her. She didn't like blonde hair, especially seeing as she had purple hair almost her entire life. For it to suddenly change now would be annoying.
"Great, now I gotta dye by roots…" Kyoka muttered to herself, standing back from the mirror and stretching. As she did, there was a knock at her door. "What is it?" Kyoka called out, as the door opened. Her father stood in the doorway, looking over her shoulder at the mirror. She scowled. "What do you want? Haven't you already done enough?"
"Kyoka…"
"No, don't "Kyoka" me, Dad. I already said my peace, so stop trying to push my buttons, now what do you want?" Kyoka spat, glaring at him with barely hidden contempt. For his part, her father swallowed down whatever was in his throat, and spoke.
"Look… I know I haven't been the best father in the world—"
"No shit."
"—But! I want to try and make it up to you," her father said, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I… Know you hate me right now, and you have every right to. Especially after how I've been complicit with what your mother's been doing. But… I'm planning on divorcing her."
Kyoka stared at him, shocked and confused. "You're… what?"
For a moment, it looked as if her father was having a hard time saying what it was he wanted to say. He looked… nervous, and almost ashamed. But, at the same time, he looked… happy. But what was there to be happy about?
And then, he spoke.
"I'm planning on divorcing your mother. Beelz spoke to me last night, and… well, he chewed me up and spat me out. He told me like it was, and I realized just how badly I fucked up. Because of that, I've had a "come to Kami" moment, and now… well, I decided that divorcing your mother was the best plan of action. Getting away from… that will be better for me in the long run, anyway," her father explained, rubbing at the back of his neck. "And then there's the… other thing that happened recently."
"Other thing?" Kyoka prodded as her father grimaced, that nervousness of his coming back in droves.
"I was… recently contacted by my former boss, Kai Chisaki. You don't remember him, but he's been over to our place a couple of times when you were little. You idolized him for a bit too. It was kind of cute, actually…" Her father said, a sheepish grin on his face. "You used to call him Uncle Kai and everything. Those days were simpler… way simpler. Even if I wasn't tied to the Yakuza, Kai always saw me as a brother and vice versa. He, Beelz, and I all dreamed of ruling the Shie Hissaikai together one day…."
"Get to the point, Dad," Kyoka said, impatience coating her tone as her father cleared his throat, coughing once or twice before continuing.
"A-Anyway, he was reaching out to me because he wanted to give me a chance, and… well, I saw the money in what he was going to be doing, and what with us having been brothers in the past, he figured he could let me in on it. Truth be told I've been looking for an excuse to leave your mother, and… well, after Beelz chewed me out, I kinda figured this was the perfect opportunity," Her father said, and once again, he was smiling. A genuine, legitimate smile. Something that she hardly ever saw anymore….
But, that smile quickly faded as his expression became more serious, and the air around him grew tense."But, at the same time, I wasn't just going to up and run away. I asked him if I could speak to my family about it first, and he was understanding. He knew I threw that life away so I could raise you, but… look at how shit that turned out," he gestured to the broken window where she assumed she heard her throwing the pill bottle out and then looked back to her.
"Obviously, Mika isn't a fan of it. But that's on her for being a shitty parent—which I know is a lot to say coming from me, but I want to mend whatever relationship there is between us. Even if you don't, I'm still going back to the Shie Hissaikai. My current job isn't paying well, and a part of me has been itching to get back into what I left behind. Once a Yakuza, always a Yakuza, as they say…"
Kyoka frowned, crossing her arms as she tapped her foot against the floor. "You're asking a hero student if she wants to go live with you on a Yakuza base. Do you realize how stupid that sounds?" Kyoka asked rhetorically as her father faltered for a moment, before sighing.
"Yeah, that's fair. Well, either way, I don't trust your mother, and I know how much you hate your Uncle, but I spoke to him and—"
"Forget it. Don't even finish that sentence. I refuse," Kyoka spat as her father sighed.
"Kyoka. Use your brain. Your Uncle is a billionaire. He's a Pro Hero, he owns and runs the Speedwagon Foundation, and despite him knowing you hate him, he loves you to death. The only reason he's never seen you in person is because Mika put a restraining order on him when you were born."
Kyoka blanked as soon as those words left his mouth. "She… what?"
"I was never supposed to tell you this, but since your mother's gone on a bender after I told her I was divorcing her, I thought that I might as well tell you. The reason why you've never met your Uncle is that your mother put a restraining order on him, and for the last sixteen years of your life has been lying to you that he was being selfish, and didn't care about you or her," her father paused, letting out a sigh.
"I recently got contacted by him because you're in the same class as your cousin—it was actually just an hour after Beelz spoke to me, and Kai called me a moment after that, but that's irrelevant. When he found out you and Josefumi were in the same class, he saw this as his chance to try and reach out to you, not Mika, because the restraining order only told him to stay away from her. I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear right now, but… your mother…. She—"
A sharp pang reverberated through Kyoka's head, causing her to buckle to her knees as pain surged throughout her body. Her eyes scrunched as she bit back a scream as a voice belonging to someone reverberated throughout her head.
"She's not even my daughter! How the hell am I supposed to know half of this shit!? #$&)!&) hired me to be her father until he found her actual father! So stop treating me like shit, and more importantly, stop treating her like shit, or I'll call ! ^%&^! and then we'll see who treats who like—"
"Kyoka!" her father's voice cut through her memories, as it was only then that she realized that she had fallen onto the floor and had been hyperventilating. Her father was close to her, a hand on her shoulder as his eyes, wide and full of concern, stared into hers. "Kyoka, are you alright?! You just—"
"I'm fine, Dad. It's just…" she paused. What the hell was that? Who's voice was that? Who hired who to be who's father? What the hell was going on? Why now? Why was she remembering all of this stuff now? "I'm… I'm fine. Just… leave me alone. Let me know when Dinners ready…." Kyoka said, taking her father's hand as she stood up. Her father nodded, before going to leave her room.
Before he did, he looked over his shoulder and spoke. "Just know this, Kyoka. I love you, and so does your uncle. I don't know about your mother, but I'd like to think that, somewhere, in whatever dark twisted fantasy land she's living in, she loves you too and only wants the best for you. Just… think it over, okay?" With that, her father left, closing the door behind him as he did.
Kyoka stood there for a moment, before clutching the side of her head. "This entire time… My mother… why? Why would she lie to me?" She knew her mother was a deceitful, controlling person, but… for her to lie to her for so long…
"I have to apologize. I have to apologize to Kujo… oh my God, what the hell is wrong with me?" Kyoka thought, before looking over to her bed. She needed to lie down. After everything that she had learned, her head hurt.
Sitting down on her bed, with a sigh, Kyoka laid down, closed her eyes, and took a much-needed nap.
[XXXX]
[-2 weeks ago-]
Some would say the afterlife was simply a black void of nothingness and death. Otherwise would say it was a cartoonish hellscape—or heavenscape, depending on where they believed they'd go—where songs were aplenty and where you could get up to all kinds of debauchery. Some would believe that the afterlife didn't exist, and to those people, Yoshikage Kira would say they were stupid.
Because Hell very much was a place, and it wasn't what people thought it was. Instead of fire and brimstone, or some kind of infinite torture, it was a slum in the backstreets of Heaven, where all manners of souls washed up after death.
Despite that, Yoshikage didn't think that it was all that bad. Sure, he was mere feet away from eternal paradise, and he was neighbours with a pedophile, but it was leagues better from being erased from existence like he had believed what was going to happen to him after Reimei Sugimoto used that Yokai against him.
Yoshikage sat on a used, stained sofa within his little slice of hell, which was a horribly run-down apartment room filled with mould, dried blood, and tons of rust. At least the water was clean, not that he needed to care about that type of thing. He was dead, and because of that, he didn't need to take care of his earthly needs.
All he needed to worry about was if people remembered him or not. But thanks to his notoriety, and due to the fact that he was talked about in history books for his crimes, even after 82 years after his death, he was just fine. His mind wasn't deteriorating like the others around him, and he was able to maintain his existence through that.
Currently, Yoshikage found himself dressed in a lime green button-up shirt and dark purple pants. His shoes were off, which were next to the entrance of his abode, and in his hand was a small glass of cheap booze that he bought with "redemption points" he had earned for helping out within the small community—something he did every day.
His blonde hair was slicked back, and his once psychotic blue eyes no longer carried that hue. Once he died, he was scrubbed of all of his mental illnesses. It was a part of the redemption process, and it gave Yoshikage a peek into what his life could've been if he hadn't been born the way he was.
He had seen the error of his ways—seen what he had done and realized quite quickly what kind of sick man he had been. Another part of the process of redemption was to re-live the deaths of those he had murdered.
All 52 one of them.
It took a year for him to be scrubbed of those sins. He experienced their lives leading up to their death, and it was awful. It first started with Reimei, and then, it ended with Hayato who was the last person he had killed before he awakened Bites The Dust.
He had been a despicable man. A wretched soul that deserved what it was he had been given, and all the pain he had experienced. Guilt. For the first time, he felt guilt. It was because he felt guilt that he was ushered into the next step of the redemption program—community service.
Which was what he had been doing for the last 81 years of his time in the afterlife. He would clean up the community, aid other sinners in trying to move on from their pasts, and even go as far as go to what was known as the "baby soul" station and help nurture new souls to be brought into the world.
It was… a peaceful life. Despite being in Hell, it was a life he could see himself getting used to living. After all, God said that he loved all of his children, so to cast them into the fires of hell and torture those who did unspeakable crimes was a woeful misinterpretation. The hard part was confronting one's sins, but afterward, the process of redemption was rather simple.
And while most sinners with his rap sheet would never see the light of Heaven, recently, he had been approached by a very important figure in the afterlife. Someone who had seen the work he had been doing, and decided to give him a special chance that no other sinner had gotten in well over 100 years.
The figure in question was, while seemingly a joke at first, Jesus Christ. Their conversation was rather short, but to sum it up, he was given the chance to join something called the "Guardian Angel" program to watch over his descendants. If he could help them survive for a year, then he would be fully redeemed, and he would be allowed to enter The Light and be fully cleansed of his sins.
There was just one, tiny little catch.
Someone else had been watching over his family because their family somehow got involved in it. When he found it, he was shocked, but not as shocked as the individual in question was….
"Are you kidding me!?" The voice of one Reimei Sugimoto filled Yoshikage's ears, as the man peacefully sipped from his cheap sake. Reimei hadn't aged a day since she had come to the afterlife. Muted pink hair that was done up in a bob, cream-coloured skin, light pink eyes, and as for her outfit, well, that had changed entirely.
Due to being a pure soul, when she died and was finally given the afterlife, she was allowed to wear whatever she wanted. So, given that she had the mentality of a 16-year-old, it made sense for her to pick fashionable clothing. She was dressed in a white fur coat with a fluffy black speckled poofy collar, and a pair of black pants and a white button-up shirt underneath the jacket. She even wore a pair of dark red shades that sat on the bridge of her nose.
"When I was told to come down to the slums to meet my partner for this, I didn't expect to run into you! How the hell is that even possible!" Reimei all but screamed, fury in her voice as Yoshikage shrugged.
"Don't ask me as if I know. I've been solely focused on redeeming my soul, I couldn't tell you anything even if I wanted to, Sugimoto-san," Yoshikage replied, putting down his cheap sake as he steepled his fingers together. "I already know your reluctance to even acknowledge my existence. I'm not stupid enough to ignore that. But I believe that is why Jesus put me into this program in the first place."
Reimei glared daggers at him, anger rolling off of her in spades as her hands were clenched into fists. "If you think even for a second that I'm working with you, Kira Yoshikage, you're sorely mistaken. I'm leaving, and you will never see redemption. For all of what you did, I will never forgive—"
Before she could walk out of his apartment, a golden chain appeared between the two of them, halting her way out of the door. Both Yoshikage's and Reimei's eyes widened, as Yoshikage grabbed the chain. "Holy metal…. When Jesus said we'd be bound, I thought he meant figuratively..."
"What. The. Hell."
"Again, don't ask me, I have no clue what this is about," Yoshikage said as Reimei grabbed her end of the chain, and tugged as if to try and drag Yoshikage over to her, but it didn't do anything. If anything, more chains simply spawned out of his chest, but quickly disappeared so as to not extend the length of it. Reimei looked panicked, and Yoshikage didn't seem to care in the slightest.
"I-I can't stay here! T-This has to b-be a cruel joke! W-Why! Why!?" Reimei shouted, looking up at the sky as Yoshikage hummed. He had an idea, but he didn't know if she'd like it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper, which prompted her to look over at him. "What's that? What's that paper for?" Reimei demanded as Yoshikage unrolled it.
Clearing his throat, Yoshikage began to read the letter aloud. "A-hem: Dear Mr. Kira Yoshikage, you've been formally invited to become a Guardian Angel to look over your family in progress to aid in your eventual purification and subsequent chance to lose the status of "Sinner." However, due to you and another purified soul sharing a family as of a recent development 16 years ago, in order for either of you to continue, both souls must sign off on this waiver."
"Well! Hand it over, I want to get out of here and away from you as soon as possible!" Reimei demanded as Yoshikage held up a finger to halt her.
"Hold on. There's more. Continuing: Once signing this piece of paper, both you and the purified soul in question will agree to the following: 1. Kira Yoshikage is legible be purified, and as such, once his [1 year] stint as a Guardian Angel is done, he will be purified, cleansed of his sins, and allowed to live amongst the populous of heaven.
"2. Should at any point the individual(s) both you and the purified soul are watching over die in the course of the year—not just one of them, but both—both you and the purified soul will erased as per the consequences under The Guardian Angel clause when signing up for the program.
"3. Once this piece of paper is signed, you revoke all rights to your stay in the afterlife and will brought down to the mortal world for the entire duration of the sinner's stint as a Guardian Angel, in this instance [1 year].
"4. Finally, you will already be pre-assigned someone to watch over. For the purified soul, that individual has already been decided. For you, [Kira Yoshikage] the individual you will be assigned to watch over his [Kira Yoshihara]. Upon signing this document, you agree to all the clauses and have no issues with any of them. At the end of each month, both you and the purified soul will meet at a designated location in the mortal realm tied to where both of you met the ends of your life, and you will exchange information regarding what occurred. Missing a month, for both sides, will automatically revoke both individual's statuses as a Guardian Angel, and for the purified soul, will result in their damnation, sending them to the slums of Hell."
Yoshikage paused, looking back up from the piece of paper, and handing it to Reimei, who read it over, and with each passing sentence, her eyes widened in small increments. "N-No… that's not… but I… why…!?"
"You keep asking as if I know," Yoshikage answered, picking up his cheap sake and taking another sip. "I can't speak for Jesus, but I believe it is some kind of test. What that test is, I don't know nor care. All I know is that this is the last step till I can be fully redeemed. Now, if you could please sign it, that would expedite things. That, and I'm fairly certain it will get rid of that pesky chain."
Reimei looked up at him, eyes smouldering with anger, a scowl taking up her visage. "This has something to do with you. You did something, didn't you? I should've known. You're a cruel, cruel man, Yoshikage. I—"
"I had nothing to do with this, Sugimoto. I was merely delivered this by Christ himself, to which I am honoured. But I am just as surprised and shocked as you are. I never expected to see you again aside from when I was forced to live through your death. Now, if you would please sign the paper, then we can be on our way," Yoshikage interrupted, crossing his arms as Reimei glared daggers at him.
She looked at the paper, then back to him, back at the paper, and then with a sigh, she gestured for him to give her a pen, which she did. She walked over to the dainty kitchen counter in his apartment and signed the piece of paper. She passed both the paper and the pen back to him, and when he signed it, a golden hue appeared around the paper, it rolled up, and disappeared into a beacon of light.
A second later, a golden aura appeared around both Reimei and Yoshikage and before either could say anything, they vanished from the afterlife.
[XXXX]
It was a rainy, dull evening for the shady side of Musutafu, that being Downtown Musutafu. Downtown was where all the criminal activity was, at least for the most part. Not many heroes bothered to deal with it, though, seeing as most of them were bought out by the groups that controlled Downtown, giving them free rein to do whatever it was they had desired, it, unfortunately, made sense for crime to fester there.
Some sold drugs, others were money laundries, but most were loan sharks. However, there had been one group that ruled the criminal underground with an iron fist, encircling all of the businesses in Downtown Musutafu.
The group in question made all the other small-time gangs pay protection fees and was known to be particularly brutal against their detractors and those who hadn't paid back in a long time. And currently, one of the bigger members of that group was hunting down someone who had forgotten to pay back their loan with a large amount of interest.
"P-Please, ma'am! I-I promise I can pay you back! J-Just give me more time!" A random civilian had said, his eyes widening in fear as he scuttled back on the dirty, festering floor of an alleyway, having been knocked down by his assailant.
Speaking of which, his assailant was wearing a large black trench coat with the white-coloured letters D, V, and R going along it in a wrap-around fashion, all separated by clean, straight horizontal lines.
Underneath the trench coat was a red coloured shirt adorned with small rips and tears at the bottom, though it was noticeably tight around their rather full chest, almost like she had been trying to make it look more appealing to the male eye. Tight black jeans surrounded her curvaceous lower body, followed up with long, alluring legs and thighs that would make any man want to whistle.
To complement all of that, her hair was long, black, and flowing down to the ends of her back. It was clean, almost too clean for the naked eye. Her face was slightly rounded, but still pretty in every sense of the word. Her eyes were a beautiful silver, framed with long, thick eyelashes curling at the tips.
Her lips were pronounced with red lipstick, and she had a cunning, almost alluring smile that could break most men if given the chance. She bent down to look the man in the face, and with that ever-so-alluring smile, she spoke, cupping the man's cheek with a soothing touch.
"Oh, darling, please. I've given you more than enough time. It's been three weeks, and besides, 200,000 yen isn't that much, is it? If you worked a normal job, it would be rather easy for a person such as yourself to get the job done. But, alas, it would seem as if you have failed in that regard. Oh well, and I was beginning to have fun with you, too… such a shame really," the woman said, her sultry voice giving the man shivers up and down his spine.
She backed up, standing tall at 5 foot 11 inches. For most women, it wasn't exactly a normal height, but it suited her body just fine. After all, she made the most of it, using every inch of herself to make herself as attractive as possible.
Around the rather tall, and illustrious woman, a silvery gray aura began to surround her body, almost like a flame. It crackled and sizzled like a flame too, licking at the sides of her face yet leaving no visible scarring, if there was any in the first place. It looked ethereal, but that was because it was. In reality, it was not a flame—not at all.
However, the poor citizen could not see its beauty. He couldn't see, nor could he comprehend its beauty, because it illuded him in its entirety. But what lurked behind that beauty was something far more sinister, and in a way, not being able to see it was probably a grace for him.
A small, one-eyed grey-goblin-like creature with curled horns, two fingers, and one massive toe appeared next to the woman. Then, another one showed up, looking identical to the last. It started with two, then three, then four, eventually getting to a ridiculous amount at fifty. They all had the same wrap-around-like texture to their anorexic bodies, all with the letters D, V, and R, and they all had different coloured eyes.
One of the goblins leapt toward the man—unknowing of this, of course, and bit into his neck. A yellow liquid poured into his veins as the man's body began to lock up and constrict—as if an invisible boa constrictor had wrapped around his body, preventing him from moving. The man attempted to squirm, and when that didn't work out, he screamed in pain. The woman's intrigued eyes never once left the man's fearful ones as all of the goblins began to leap on the man, tearing him to shreds with their razor-sharp teeth.
"Such a terrifying ability, don't you think? Paralyzing venom can be a real killer you know? It's a very rough way to die, don't you think? Hehe, Die Very Rough, yes, such a horrible way to die…." The woman's sultry voice was mocking in only the cruellest of ways. She watched as her Die Very Rough left nothing of the man behind, devouring skin, flesh, bones and all.
Her stomach felt full, seeing as her Stand had just finished a meal. It was linked to her in every way. Whatever Die Very Rough ate, she got the nutrients of, and in turn, it made her feel full. It was thanks to that that she didn't have to eat too many fatty foods and could keep such an alluring body that she had.
Her job as a debt collector often had her speaking to pervy individuals, and sometimes it would lead to… interesting endeavours. Sometimes she was there to collect debts, other times she was making lonely men less lonely for a price. However, if she had to pick between the two jobs she did, the "making men less lonely" job appealed to her way more.
But then again, it would get… boring after a while, so perhaps debt collecting would be much better for the femme fatale.
"Makoto Takiyama." A calm, almost commanding voice spoke to her as the titular woman turned around, her Stand disappearing in the process. Purple eyes met silver ones as Makoto purred.
"Ah, Boss, a pleasure to see you here~," Makoto said, keeping eye contact with the man known as Blackwell, but to her, she knew him as The Boss.
"And it is a pleasure to speak to you once more, Makoto. However, we can put the sweet-talking aside. I have a job for you. After all, you're the best person for the job," The Boss said, his tone serious as Makoto nodded.
"Well, do tell me, what exactly is this job, hmm?" Makoto asked as The Boss simply chuckled, shifting in place underneath the veil of darkness that had cloaked him.
"You always speak in that alluring tone of yours, and it never ceases to make me feel some sort of way, you know? Had I not known any better, I would've mistaken you for a hooker. A-hem, where was I? Oh, yes. The job I have planned for you. Tell me, dear, have you heard of The League Of Villains?" The Boss asked as Makoto raised an eyebrow.
"That small runty little upstart? What of them? Do you want me to take them out? I can do so easily. Though, I'm surprised you'd ask me of all people to do that. But, if that is—"
"You're getting ahead of yourself, Makoto. Besides, I doubt we want to make enemies with All For One, do we?" The Boss said, crossing his arms beneath the shadow as Makoto bit her lip. Makoto might be daring, and she might have been more than willing to do whatever The Boss wanted, but messing with All For One…. That was more than a bad idea. Even in his current state.
Anyone with a pulse or a working brain knew that messing with All For One was like a death sentence. One wrong move, and it's game over. He was the end-all-be-all, the Ceaser to end all Ceasers. There was a reason why he ruled Japan for as long as he had. There was a reason why the Government acted so quickly to cover up his existence.
"Yes, that would be a mistake…" Makoto hummed, putting her hands on her hips. "So what do you intend me to do, Sir?" Makoto asked, putting all of her weight on her left hip as she leaned to one side.
"They plan on 'killing the symbol of peace,' though I doubt it'll work," The Boss snorted, crossing his arms. "Although, I'm willing to see what happens if they attempt this, and how they'll bounce back from the inevitable failure. I see them going places—high-up places, especially considering they had All For One's backing.
I want you to go to their location in Yokohama and help them with this endeavour. They're going to get into U.A. and steal important plans about an up-and-coming field trip that their spy learned about. All Might is going to be there. I want you to cause as much fear and havoc as possible, maybe kill some of those brats along the way.
Honestly, I don't care. As far as I am aware none of them are Stand users, so this should be a slaughter for you. And if you do get to attack All Might, then that'll be even more beneficial for us. If we get him out of the picture, we can advance in our plans at light speed without having to tip-toe around that big lug."
As The Boss finished his explanation, Makoto licked her lips before smirking. "Alright. You lost me in the first half, but the idea of killing that big, muscular hunk of a man has officially turned me on. I think I can do all of what you asked and more, Boss." Makoto turned around and began to walk away from the alleyway, swaying her hips as she did so, though unknowingly of course.
The Boss nodded silently to himself, turning around and leaving the dingy alleyway a minute after Makoto had. Despite being a Debt Collector for Damnatio ad Bestias, Makoto had a powerful Stand, one that allowed her to do her job effectively. She was the leader of the debt-collecting branch, so at the very least, she had some sort of experience in that regard.
He just hoped he had picked the right person for the job. Makoto was the best in her field, and if she had to be replaced because she somehow got killed fighting a bunch of children, well, then it would've meant that perhaps she wasn't the best after all.
Regardless of what he thought, The Boss knew that wasn't going to happen. After all, Damnatio ad Bestias weren't going to be bested by some brats playing hero. That much he knew. He put too much time and care into the Yakuza to fail that hard.
[XXXX]
The start of her third day at U.A. was… not fun, to say the very least. Yoshihara had been met at the gates of her school by a crowd of obnoxious news reporters, all of which wanted to know how All Might was as a Teacher. She didn't want to give them the light of day, but they just kept pushing, stuffing microphones in her face, asking her stupid questions that she didn't bother allocating any memory to.
It was times like these when she wished the cameras weren't constantly on so she could blow some of them up, but alas, that was unbecoming of a future Pro-Hero.
Yoshihara waded her way through the sea of obnoxious news reporters and got to the entrance with very little fanfare. When she entered the building, she brushed off the skirt she was forced to wear—much to her chagrin—and made her way to her classroom. She sat at her assigned seat at the back and waited for the rest of her class to show up.
People filtered in one by one, chatting amongst one another about how the press equally bombarded them with stupid questions. Not even Izuku had been safe from those persistent vultures. As sad as that had been, Yoshihara knew that they would eventually leave and go back to whatever news station they had come from, and her day would finally be at least a little bit better with the knowledge they got nothing of value.
Once everyone filtered in, Aizawa came in close behind and closed the door behind them after letting out a tired, almost annoyed sigh. He approached the front desk with all the readiness of a salaried worker diagnosed with clinical depression, plopped a stack of papers on the desk, and started talking.
"Good work with yesterday's battle training." Aizawa started, giving the class a lazy-eyed once over. "I've looked over your grades and evaluations." At that, a few people clammed up, those people being Bakugo, Midoriya, Kaminari, and Kira. The first one on the chopping block was Bakugo. Aizawa's eyes darted to Bakugo, his attention caught even before his name had been spoken.
"Bakugo. Grow up already. Stop wasting your talent. Whatever stupid rivalry you had back in your previous school? Drop it. It's hindering you and your potential, you got that?" At that, Bakugo gave the teacher a half-assed glare with all the bravado he could muster, which was barely anything at all, then looked at his desk with disdain.
"Got it." Bakugo ground out, his teeth gnashing together as every word that spilled from the boy's mouth sounded like a threat.
Next on the chopping block was Midoriya, who felt Aizawa's eyes latch onto him next. "And… It seems Midoriya ended yet another day with a broken arm." Izuku's hair stood on end at the mention of his name. He looked like he wanted to desperately curl up in a ball and die. But, despite the curt ending of his sentence, Aizawa wasn't done speaking.
"Learn to control your Quirk… because just trying isn't going to cut it. I hate repeating myself. But you do have potential, assuming you can overcome this. Work at it, Midoriya." Aizawa finished as Izuku, now bolstered by the words of his teacher, responded with a hardy 'okay.'
Aizawa's eyes landed on Kaminari, who sat up straight in his chair, trying not to look stressed out, despite not doing a convincing job.
"Kaminari." Aizawa started, earning the electric-blonds attention. "It was noble of you to continue the attack on the faux villains even after your partner had been downed, even though it could've been avoided." At that, Kyoka flinched. "It shows that you're brave enough to continue even without backup. However, you need to work on your hand-to-hand combat. In the real world of being a hero, you cannot always rely on your Quirk to defeat villains, sometimes physical combat without having access to your Quirk is more beneficial, especially in closed-off spaces."
"Yes, Sensei!" Kaminari responded as he relaxed in his seat. Afterward, the stoic black eyes of Aizawa looked over to Yoshihara with a mundane annoyance. Yoshihara did nothing in response to them, only met his cold eyes with her own.
"Kira. While your forward-thinking in placing those traps down was admirable, you put too much power into your attacks and badly wounded Jirou from these reports. I suggest you try and work on toning down the power of your explosions if you plan on making it as a hero."
"Yes, Aizawa-sensei. I understand." Her response was formal, to the point, and clear. Aizawa simply nodded, stacking the pieces of paper neatly.
"Those were all of the notable reports that All Might had filed. The rest of you did well. There is nothing else I have to comment on, other than that you still have a long way to go before making it as a full-time Pro-hero. Now, on to homeroom business. Sorry for the sudden announcement, but today…." Aizawa allowed for a small amount of tension and suspense to build in the air, scaring the pants off of his students—gods did he love his job at times—then followed up his sentence. "You'll pick a class president."
Underneath the cacophony of noise, Yoshihara buried her head between her hands. Class president, eh? She wasn't interested, not in the slightest. That meant drawing far too much attention toward her. Sure, becoming a class president opened up more opportunities than it did blocking them, but there was too much involvement.
Basically, it was a secondary teacher if the main teacher wasn't there. Sure they weren't teaching anything, but they were making sure everyone was doing what it was they were supposed to be doing. On top of that, they were the ones who gathered up meetings and discussions in class or came up with events to do when there was free time.
Again, too much involvement.
People voiced their want to be the class president, one voice came tumbling out after another, all with the same light-handed remark that all amounted to "I want to be class president, please pick me," and it was driving her crazy. But, amongst all of that chaos, amongst all of that noise, one voice spoke louder than the rest.
"QUIET DOWN, EVERYONE!" Ida Tenya's voice caused everyone a moment of pause, and everyone did exactly as he said. He suddenly adorned a serious expression, something akin to an elected official. His glasses gleamed in the light, a small flare dinging off in the uppermost left-hand corner of his glasses. Then, with a rigid, almost determined tone, he spoke.
"Leading the many is a task of heavy responsibility…!" There was a small pause, his eyes darting around, making sure he got everyone's attention. Once he realized everyone's eyes were on him, he continued. "But ambition does not equate to ability! This sacred office demands the trust of its constituents…!" Another pause, this time more for dramatic effect than anything else, but it at least got everyone's full attention, including Aizawa's. "If this is to be a democracy, then I put forward the motion that our true leader must be chosen by election!"
"THIS IS A CLASSROOM, NOT CONGRESS!"
All Yoshihara could do was shake her head and block out everyone's voices. She was too tired for this nonsense, and with it being so early in the morning as well, it was way more headache-inducing than it should've been. She could only imagine what Aizawa-sensei was thinking about this situation. She almost felt bad for him. Almost.
It was bad enough that Kayama-san woke her up earlier than usual to discuss some personal things such as her mental health that the ravenette had been worried about. However, that wasn't all. Add on to the fact that she hadn't had her morning cup of coffee, and that already spelt the need for a disaster to unfold in the not-so-distant future. Yoshihara without her morning coffee was never a good thing.
She was originally planning to stop by the local coffee shop on her way to the train station, but upon finding out it was closed for the morning due to a rampaging villain, her hopes had been dashed. Now, coffeeless, tired, and surrounded by loud and obnoxious people, ignoring Izuku and Kujo, Yoshihara groaned.
A piece of paper drifted onto her desk. She assumed those were the 'voting ballets.' Apparently, they were being serious. She looked over to Ida, shook her head, and then wrote down his name on the piece of paper. She had originally planned on putting Izuku's name down on the piece of paper, but after thinking about it for a while, Ida had seemed more likely to actually be a leader than Izuku.
Don't get her wrong. She thought Izuku could do it, albeit just barely without fainting every time he had to get up in front of everyone—confidence boost or not, he was still the same Izuku, and being around people just wasn't his thing. As she finished writing down Ida's name on the piece of paper, she watched what everyone else was doing, which was putting the 'ballots' on the teacher's desk, folded up into squares.
So, she did just that.
Once back in her seat, Ida tallied up all of the votes and came to a very interesting conclusion. There was a three-way tie. 2 votes for Izuku. 2 votes for Yaoyorozu. 2 votes for Ida—one of which was hers. She frowned. She had mostly been meant to be the tiebreaker between Yaoyorozu and Izuku, but instead, ended up putting Ida up there as well.
Yoshihara shrugged. It wasn't her problem to deal with. Er, well, actually, technically speaking she caused it. But that didn't mean she had to fix it, now did she? But now, the question was. Who else voted for Ida? She glanced over to Kujo, who smirked. Great minds did think alike, didn't they? She didn't know she instinctively knew that he had been the one to vote for Ida, but now with a three-way tie, it had to be broken.
"It would seem as if now we have three candidates for the position!" Ida said with a proud smile on his face. "Time for the second round of voting, only this time, the rest of you will pick between the three of us!"
And thus, that is exactly what happened. 9 votes went to Izuku. 5 votes went to Yaoyorozu. 3 votes went to Ida. Yoshihara had been surprised, and it showed on her face. Izuku won by a landslide! But how? She guessed most people in the class didn't want Ida in that spot, or perhaps everyone kind of just… liked Izuku? She couldn't blame anyone for thinking that way, Izuku was one of the nicer people in the class by far, even if he was a little on the skittish side.
"S-S-S-S-Seriously?!" Izuku muttered in scared confusion and fear. Poor kid. Yaoyorozu seemed to be a bit frustrated, but who could blame her? Not to be rude, or to think lowly of Izuku's leadership skills or Izuku himself, it was clear as day that he was not qualified for the job. Not until he got his backbone straightened out more, anyway.
"Fine, so your President's Midoriya and your Vice President's Yaoyorozu," Aizawa said, getting into his sleeping bag. "The next class is about to begin, so get back into your seats, you two. I'm taking a nap," and with that, the day carried on as normal.
Although, the next two hours were strange, seeing as English class was up next, and going from Aizawa-Sensei to Yamada-Sensei was a bit of a whiplash in terms of personality, but she was able to adjust accordingly. After Yamada-Sensei's class finished up, Kayama-san—or, rather, Kayama-Sensei—came in to teach modern arts, and then the bell rang out for lunch.
Yoshihara had been the only one in her class not to gather in the cafeteria, instead opting to walk around the perimeter of the building behind the massive steel walls known as the U.A. Barrier. Why? Because she hadn't been hungry. That's why.
That, and she didn't want to be surrounded by a bunch of noisy teenagers. Plus, she needed some fresh air and a place to get away from everyone, just so she could finally have the chance to actually wake up and feel like a normal human being.
Unfortunatly for her, the news crews from all across Japan were still at the school. They were annoyingly persistent, as she should have expected. It was noon right now, and all they could think about was getting the latest scoop on All Might?! Seriously?! Didn't they have better things to do? Then again, All Might was the celebrity. So getting any information about him would make an amazing first-page article.
Considering their persistence, it was no wonder as to why U.A. decided to erect the barrier. If given the chance, they would do what they could to get their answers. Just like a bunch of scavengers, they were loud, and annoying, and it made her want to punch someone.
"Damn vultures…." Yoshihara muttered. She continued to walk, breathing in the fresh air around her. The last thing she wanted was to have those annoying vultures pester her about questions. But thankfully, she didn't have to worry about them, now did she? Nobody else seemed to have her idea of walking around the school's perimeter, and with the U.A. barrier blocking out any of the news crew, it was safe to say that she didn't have to worry about bumping into anyone during her quick breather.
That was, at least, until she actually did bump into someone.
"Oof—"
"Sorry!"
Yoshihara shook her head and met face to face with a man with teal hair, a black hoodie, black pants, and top all of that creepy stuff off, he had red, menacing eyes. He was scrawny, no doubt about it, and his skin was pale—really pale. The man seemed to go wide-eyed at her sudden appearance, but she didn't react to his. "I've never seen this guy before….." Yoshihara thought, narrowing her eyes into a glare.
Was he a part of the staff? Was he one of the news reporters? He didn't have a microphone, so that was a clear sign that he wasn't. So who the hell was this guy? "Are you the janitor or something?" Yoshihara asked as the man froze for a second, before shaking his head and rubbing his dusty forehead with a scowl.
"U-Uh… yeah, I am." The man's voice was raspy, almost harsh in tone. Did the guy ever drink any water? However, that had not been what she was focusing on. The janitor, eh? He didn't sound so confident in saying that, but then again, the look she was giving him was mostly a death glare, so perhaps that had been why he stammered. "I need to get back to work." The man said abruptly, walking past her hurriedly, not wasting any time.
She watched him disappear around the corner, and with a sigh, she shook her head. She hoped she hadn't ruined his day. To work at such a large school and be responsible for cleaning it…
"Poor guy, if he's the janitor here, I kinda feel bad for him…." Yoshihara muttered. The guy seemed to be in a hurry. She didn't know why he had been, probably to get back to doing whatever it was he had been doing. He was probably just finishing up a break when he had bumped into her. Oh well, whatever the case may have been, at least he hadn't pestered her about being outside of the school.
She sighed, dusting her uniform off from whatever grime had gotten on her after bumping into the guy, and was about to continue walking when suddenly, an alarm rang out around the school's campus. Then, as if someone had opened up the floodgates, somehow, the news crews started to funnel past the barrier. They were coming from the back, at least that was what it appeared to be, seeing as they were encircling the school from her left-hand side.
"What the hell? Did one of the newscasters use their Quirk to break into the school?! How desperate and stupid must one person be to get a news story on All Might?!" Yoshihara thought, looking back towards the school. She had to get back inside, the last thing she wanted to do was be seen by any of the news people.
"SECURITY LEVEL 3 HAS BEEN BROKEN. ALL STUDENTS PLEASE EVACUATE IN AN ORDERLY FASHION!" The alarm's voice was feminine, probably pre-recorded, which was good. Yoshihara's eyes narrowed as she looked over to her right to see a horde of students leave the school, pushing and shoving past others.
Now she had no way of actually re-entering the building. Not while those students were crowding around the area.
"Damn, those news assholes!" Yoshihara muttered, covering her ears. She could see Aizawa-Sensei and Yamada-Sensei trying to deal with the press, swarming them like they were some vagrants asking for some sweet, sweet cash. She couldn't even begin to imagine what was going on inside the building.
All of this, and for what? For the news? No, there was something else going on here. Something wasn't right. She didn't know what it was that wasn't adding up. Why would the press go out of their way to break the U.A. barrier? They couldn't be that stupid, right? Whatever the case might have been, she had been too distracted by the cacophony of loud noises to put a coherent thought together.
Thankfully, the panic didn't last long, and everyone had been funnelled out of the building just in time for the police to deal with the press. When she got back to class and sat in her seat, Izuku and Yaoyozoru stood in front of everyone with Aizawa off to the side. Izuku had been extremely nervous, but, he had composed himself just enough to look presentable.
"Go ahead, class president." With a heavy sigh, Izuku glanced over to Ida and then spoke.
"We'd like to choose the other student council members! But, before that, this is important…." The seemingly innocuous statement caught Yaoyorozu off guard. Izuku's nerves seemed to cool as his eyes met Ida's, and with a smile, he continued. "I believe that Ida is better suited to be Class President! You all saw how well he led everyone in that crisis. I think he's the correct choice for the job."
So Ida had been responsible for calming everyone down and leading them to the emergency exit? That was good and all, but there was something… not right about that. Izuku earned his spot but wanted to give it away. She chalked it up to Izuku just being a bit too nice for his own good.
Ida seemed happy though, and honestly, as long as Izuku was happy about it that was all Yoshihara cared about. Ida took to the job like a magnet, and the rest of the class cheered him on. Izuku silently went to his seat, and Yoshihara gave him a small, meaningful smile.
Despite the freak accident that occurred this afternoon at lunch, today had so far been uneventful. While a part of her wanted it to be less "uneventful" a part of her figured that something was going to happen. Whatever that something was, though, she didn't know. After all, being in the Hero Course was bound to cause some form of excitement every day. It was the hero course, after all.
Unbeknownst to any of them, back at the front gate, Nedzu, U.A.'s principal, alongside two staff members, stood at the front gates, or, that was to say, what remained of the front gates. It had been destroyed. All four layers of doors turned to nothing but rubble on the ground. It looked like a bomb had erupted the door, and that could've been the case, had it not been for the fact that the doors were bomb-proof.
Something else happened here. Something more sinister. Something villainous.
"No ordinary reporter could have done this." Recovery girl said, her expression grim as Nedzu put his arms behind his back. He narrowed his eyes at the gate, a stern expression on his face. "Someone instigated this whole affair. Did some evildoer manage to slip in? Or do they intend to wage some greater war…?"
Nedzu's question went unanswered. And that day, things went from bad, to serious. U.A. had just been attacked by an unknown assailant, and the safety of the students was now in question. Whoever did this, clearly had a message to give, and that message was simple.
You are not as safe as you think you are.
-To Be Continued in - Invasion at the USJ - Part 1-