With his head down, Izuku raced through the city, his mind on the chase. The injury to his leg from the previous day did not hinder him in the slightest; he moved just as skilfully as before. As he put weight on his legs, he noticed that his jumps had become much more powerful. Unlike his previous movements, which had been more like clumsy swings on a tightrope, Izuku had devised acrobatic manoeuvres that shifted his centre of gravity in the right direction. Executing these acrobatic manoeuvres proved difficult for him due to their unfamiliarity and his lack of experience, which led to frequent falls. Despite all the setbacks, Izuku tried to make use of what he considered interesting and effective, even if it seemed absurd.
'How am I supposed to find someone they've been unable to track down for over 10 years? The heroes and the police are searching for him, and they have vast resources at their disposal.' Izuku flew between the buildings at breakneck speed, his limbs began to feel lighter than they had the first time. The huge, colourful buildings of the metropolis gave way to oppressive, dingy and filthy ones as he drew closer to the broker's hideout. In the city centre, where life, safety and smiles once reigned, hopelessness, anxiety, despair, filth and cheap alcohol now prevailed – on the outskirts of the city, where the broker held sway. Observing this, Izuku paid no heed to the devastation around him and landed on the ground without delay, using his tentacle to cushion the fall. Drawing on the symbiont's flexibility and density, Izuku devised various landing techniques to avoid minor injuries.
The security guards at the main entrance, upon seeing the uninvited guest, simply sighed as they let the distinguished visitor through. In criminal circles, the Silent Phantom was a unique figure; villains dubbed him a hero in the guise of a villain, whilst heroes called him a villain in the guise of a hero. Before the broker's guest passed through the door, they noticed that his white contact lenses had become sharper than on his previous visit. The former neatness and meticulousness that had been the Silent Phantom's hallmark had given way to heavier footsteps and movements; the weight of each step could be heard even through closed doors. The security staff, who had seen many strange things, were not prepared for such a radical change in one of their guests.
The CCTV footage showed a dark figure with white contact lenses striding slowly but confidently towards the broker's main office. Watching this, the broker smirked, casting aside any tension about the impending conversation with the guest. The broker's deputy drew his weapon, ready to shoot the guest right at the entrance, but with a single gesture of his hand, the broker thwarted his subordinate's intention.
The door swung open as though it had been pushed open with all one's might; fortunately, the broker had anticipated the arrival of physically imposing guests and had fitted the door with a sturdy support made of durable materials. Standing before the broker was his long-standing visitor, a man involved in mysterious dealings; he neither smiled nor showed any emotion other than irritation. From his body language, it was not hard to guess that words were superfluous, and that he must give the Silent Phantom what he wanted.
'To what do I owe the honour of your visit? Armour? Weapons? Women?' At the last word, Izuku's attention sharpened, almost losing his composure; the broker was the only person through whom he might be able to track down Saki.
'Judging by your eyes—or your contact lenses, it doesn't matter—you're annoyed. Why don't you rent a room and enjoy the warmth of a woman's body? Ha-ha." Izuku remained silent, not uttering a single word. The deputy's tension was beginning to rise, and he stared at him without blinking, his gaze stern. Izuku spoke without lies, anger or weariness; the symbiote lent his voice confidence and a sinister edge.
'I need Senku Saki. Where can I find him?' The smile faded from the broker's face; he rested his elbows on the table, looking tense. Many people had approached him directly with this request, and with a heavy sigh, the broker leaned back in his chair.
'I'm sorry to have to tell you this. I can't help you with that,' said the broker. Izuku was taken aback by his words. A reliable source of information, whom he trusted, had turned down his request. The symbiote inside him growled, urging him to leave the place. If the king of the underworld couldn't help him, then no one else would be able to offer anything either. Izuku considered the search for Saki too personal to drag other people into the matter. Weighed down by his convictions and thoughts, Izuku turned away from the broker, wanting to leave the musty place, until he heard the sound of a bolt being raked back. Silence fell over the room; only the sound of the old light bulb on the ceiling created a sense of tension. Having weighed up all the pros and cons, Izuku stood still, waiting for an explanation from the broker himself.
'Bring a chair for the guest.' With a single gesture, the broker ordered his deputy to put down his weapon. The deputy, contrary to his nature, obeyed, bringing a chair for the Silent Phantom.
'I haven't finished speaking yet. Sit down and do be so kind as to listen to what I'm about to say,' he said in a haughty, sarcastic tone, though his facial expression suggested otherwise. Surprised by this turn of events, Izuku decided with interest to listen to the ensuing conversation; he did not turn down the opportunity offered, sitting down directly opposite the broker. The smirk or faint smile on the broker's face had vanished; his shoulders, like his face, were tense, taking on a more sullen expression.
'I can't find the man you're looking for. Don't get me wrong: if I had precise information about his lair, I'd go there myself and kill him with my bare hands.' The broker gestured, which was uncharacteristic of him; in ordinary conversations with clients, he often behaved in a stern and composed manner.
'He's wasting our time. They're working together; he's just distracting us,' the symbiote sneered, making no secret of his distrust of the man. Making no secret of his curiosity, Izuku stayed to listen to the broker, however pragmatic a man he might be.
'Why are you telling me this? You're not interested in anyone except money.' The broker snorted, pointing his finger at the table.
'If you think my only goal is money, then you've got the wrong idea about me. Honour and dignity mean more to me than money,' Izuku narrowed his eyes in scepticism, meeting the broker's intense gaze. The two stood in silence, staring into each other's eyes; whilst one of them was eager to leave as soon as possible, the other was so engrossed in the conversation that even the clients waiting outside couldn't get into his office.
'Before Senku Saki earned his reputation as a ruthless maniac, he was a man tormented by his own quirk. Seeing in him a weapon of pure terror for my clients, I wanted to make him my executioner.' As he listened on, Izuku seethed with rage, longing to settle the score not only with Saki, but also with the broker who had dared to hire him as a lapdog. The black mass within his body began to throb, and his foot tapped the floor as he waited for further details.
'I hired the best people to track him down. Thanks to one of the victims, my men managed to track him down, and when I offered him this deal, he flew into a rage and killed my men.' The subsequent descriptions of the murders of the broker's subordinates were enough to make one's blood boil. Senku Saki tore people's arms off, stoned them to death, and tortured children until they bled to death. He painted perverse pictures using his victims' blood. The most revolting thing Izuku had heard was the desecration of the graves of the victims he had killed.
'You might well ask: is there a limit to this maniac's cruelty?' Izuku raised an eyebrow for a moment at the unusual question. 'The limit of cruelty' was an extremely interesting phrase to forget after the conversation.
'If he has no morals or honour, then he cannot have a limit to his cruelty. But do I have a limit to my cruelty?' Izuku asked himself. The broker waited patiently for an answer, sipping his drink and looking at his guest thoughtfully. In the criminal underworld, cruelty was an everyday occurrence and took two forms, and anyone who chose to tie their life to that world embodied both forms of cruelty.
Psychological cruelty — mentally strong individuals most often attempt to break the will of the mentally weak and vulnerable through blackmail, intimidation, manipulation and ridicule. This type of cruelty is most commonly employed by cynical villains and criminals to intimidate those who are weak and unable to stand up for themselves. The most cynical aspect of this type of cruelty is driving a person to utter despair without resorting to physical force, so that the vulnerable individual ultimately takes their own life.
Physical cruelty is a scene that everyone sees on their television screens and mobile phones. They see the cruelty, feel it, criticise it and are outraged by it, but the most reprehensible aspect of physical cruelty is the fascination with which people are prepared to watch it. Physical violence and the criminal underworld are inseparable; they cannot function without one another. Villains and criminals would not exist if violence were wiped from the face of the earth. Physical violence, murder, torture and causing harm are everyday occurrences in the life of every villain or criminal.
'No,' replied Izuku, weighing up every word. The broker smirked, noting his guest's interest. The alcohol was beginning to take effect on the broker, and, judging by his behaviour, he appeared confident.
'Let me ask you, why have you suddenly taken an interest in him? He was killing people even before your debut. Why have you decided to pay attention to him right now?' — his tone was erratic and varied; it shifted with each word, lending weight to his words. Izuku didn't reply, merely narrowing his eyes and looking at the broker with a slight hint of distrust.
'Stop distracting me. I asked where he is. I'm not keen on listening to his life story.' The tone of the conversation was extremely strange for both of them. After each completed sentence, a silence hung in the air that neither of them wanted to break. Each was waiting for the other to crack and reveal their intentions and goals. Sensing his client's impatience, the broker smiled, summoned his subordinate and handed him a note
'I can't say for certain where he is. Nobody knows where his hideout is. All I can do is give you some leads and clues that might, in theory, point to where he could be. You're not a stupid dude, so you'll figure it all out,' Izuku glanced questioningly at the large travel bag designed to carry large sums of money. The broker smiled, pushing the heavy bag towards Izuku.
'Let me explain what's inside. Inside this bag are the police investigation files for every person murdered by Senku Saki, right up to the very last victim. All the official police investigation files are inside this bag. That's all I've got." Izuku was sceptical about the broker's gift as he looked at the bag. He suspected there might be a bomb inside, or something even worse, given all the tricks villains were capable of. The lock opened easily, and Izuku was met with a pile of police files and investigation reports. The thick stacks of files and papers would be enough to fill an entire philosophical treatise on human madness. The broker placed his hand on the bag, drawing attention to himself.
'If you bring him to me alive, you'll receive my blessing. If you didn't know, people were prepared to undertake suicide missions just for the sake of my blessing.' Izuku paid no heed to his tempting offer; the documents in the bag were full of information, but amongst all the victims' names, he couldn't find Midoriya's surname. The list of victims struck Izuku as remarkably detailed; amongst the papers were also discs and USB sticks containing various recordings made by the police.
'Before you left, your sponsor gave you a letter.' Izuku's attention was drawn to a letter bearing a vintage wax seal. His memories of that room at the Re Destro banquet were etched in his mind as psychological torture. Izuku hesitated over whether to take the letter; closing his bag, he stood up, preparing to leave without even thanking the broker. A tentacle extended from his back, retrieving the letter from the table. The sticky, long tentacle returned to his main body, passing the letter directly into the bearer's hands. Izuku could smell the same strawberry scent that had lingered in his memory for so long.
'It's her.' On the secluded roof of one of the apartment blocks, Izuku hesitated over whether to open the letter, remembering their last meeting. At his own risk, Izuku broke the wax seal with that familiar crunch, and once again the woman's handwriting—with its fine calligraphic skills—left no doubt as to the letter's authenticity.
'Welcome back. Do you remember our last meeting? I was delighted to see you, even though you weren't in your classic hero's outfit, but I'm flattered that you went to such lengths to meet me.
You know, my dear Silent Phantom, I've been waiting so long for the moment when you'd return to me. Not that time when you were pretending to be someone else, trying to slip into the role of a stranger. No. I've been waiting for you like this — dangerous, resolute. With burning eyes and a heavy gait that makes my knees start to tremble without a second thought.
You know, there's something about you… that's mesmerising. It's like a storm I'm watching from the shore — terrifying, yet so beautiful.
I invite you to a private audience, where it will be just you and me. I want to see you again in your guise as a dark hero who is not to be underestimated. I await you.'
Izuku narrowed his eyes, sceptical of her words. The letter also specified the meeting place. Izuku remembered just how attractive she was; despite her age, she looked very beautiful. She skilfully exploited this, trying to impose her will and her desires upon him. The tentacle snatched the letter, folded it neatly, and placed it in his bag. Battling the storm in his mind, Izuku could think of nothing better than to decline her offer.
'Are we going to see her? It's obviously a trap.' Despite the symbiont's logical argument, Izuku made the difficult decision to meet her. Momo had a charm that worked on all males; at least, that was the conclusion Izuku had come to.
'She won't leave us alone until we meet her. I'll turn down her offer and go my own way. This has gone too far.'
Putting aside thoughts of the worst-case scenarios, he made his way through the streets, determined to reach her residence. The Yaoyorozu Corporation was the most famous company in the whole of Japan. Many talented young people from a wide range of fields flocked there for decent pay. It was hard to blame them, given that, as the market stood, vast capital was in the hands of the Yaoyorozu Corporation. Hundreds of trillions of yen were invested in the company every year; such vast sums of money, naturally, could not be left in the executives' accounts or in banks earning a pittance in interest. In order to expand into new sectors, the Yaoyorozu Corporation was acquiring promising companies throughout Japan. Thanks to a policy of soft power wielded through financial means, the Yaoyorozu Corporation exerted considerable influence over the society of heroes, as well as over the economy of Japan as a whole.
In the world of heroes, 60 per cent of heroic equipment belonged to the Yaoyorozu Corporation, but due to the anti-monopoly policies of the Japanese legal system, the corporation was unable to openly brand its heroic products with its own logos. By hiring some of the best solicitors and barristers, the corporation managed to circumvent the antitrust regulations and capture the lion's share of the market. Much of the raw materials and components for the production of heroic equipment were manufactured by the Yaoyorozu Corporation.
Naturally, the Yaoyorozu Corporation exerted influence over the construction and research sectors specialising in the study of quirks, acting as a major player in these fields and competing with large companies that were successful in these industries. Much of the economy was in the hands of Yaoyorozu, which aspired to become the sole player in Japan with a sphere of influence spanning the entire country.
The director of Yaoyorozu, however much power and intellect he possessed, had his own human needs, such as starting a family. He had only one daughter, whom he cherished and gave complete freedom to realise her potential. Despite Momo's young age, she was an exceptionally intelligent child prodigy who had won many prestigious awards and, for her many achievements, had earned the respect of the Emperor of Japan.
***
Climbing up the walls of the glass building, Izuku strove to reach the very top of the structure. The building resembled a skyscraper; it was the tallest building in the whole city. The higher Izuku climbed, the more terrifying it was to look down; he had never seen anything like this skyscraper in his life. The higher he climbed, the brighter the skyscraper became. As he scrambled upwards, Izuku couldn't see what was inside the building through the windows; they were so well protected against prying eyes.
'Glad to see you again.' A tentacle gripped the railing, helping Izuku reach the very top of the skyscraper. The highest point turned out to be a terrace with a swimming pool, expensive tiling and lighting. There was plenty of greenery, glass walls and a minibar stocked with a wide selection of alcoholic drinks. As he scanned the terrace, Izuku tried to spot any hidden ambushes.
'What do I have to do to make you start trusting me?' she said in a feminine tone. Suspecting nothing amiss, Izuku looked at her. She was dressed more revealingly than at their last meeting; she wore only a short black robe that fell just above the knee, her smooth, shaved legs like the purest marble, crafted by a skilled sculptor. Her loose black hair glistened in the light, and her well-cared-for skin was flawless. As Izuku looked her over, it seemed to him that she looked far more attractive than she had at their last meeting. Now he was alone with her, and his gaze drifted smoothly from her perfect thighs down her body, lingering on her cleavage. Driven by teenage hormones, Izuku's mind—which had never before seen a naked female body—was feverishly exploring one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen. As she looked at her guest, a faint smile appeared on Momo's face; playing along with his hormones, she bent her knees and stretched, gripping the base of the sun lounger with her hands, arching her waist and revealing her slender, feminine figure to him.
'Do you like what you see?' she asked with a seductive smile, biting her finger. Stopping his exploration of Momo's body and hiding the embarrassment and tremor in his voice, Izuku gathered his thoughts to refuse her advances.
'I came here to…' — Momo deftly placed her index finger on his lips. She was five centimetres taller than Izuku, even though he was able to alter his height thanks to his symbiotic abilities. She placed her other hand on Izuku's shoulder, beginning to trace and feel his skin beneath his hero suit. Her fingers were soft and delicate; every time she touched him, Izuku couldn't shake the tremor running through his whole body.
'Shh… sit down first. It's rude for a guest to stand and talk. Doesn't this place make you feel at ease?' she asked thoughtfully, removing her finger from his lips. She wore no make-up; she was simply as nature had made her. Izuku obeyed her will, though he didn't understand how she managed it. He sat down on the wooden deckchair directly opposite her; a sly smile played across her face, one that was hard to miss. His thoughts were in disarray; every word he was supposed to say was methodically lost as he tried to form a coherent sentence.
Momo's gaze was fixed solely on him; she looked at him with the calculating gaze of a predator that had found its prey amidst a jungle teeming with all manner of beasts. Her attention was drawn to a travel bag lying on the ground. Momo's curious glance did not go unnoticed by Izuku.
'Let me guess: is that equipment or information about someone? Am I right?' — feeling a shiver run down his spine at the accuracy of her guess, Izuku decided on the spur of the moment to play along with her curiosity.
'I'm looking for someone I can't catch. Something terrible and repulsive, a person who knows nothing but how to inflict pain on others.' With every word he uttered, Momo became seriously intrigued by his motives. The hatred and contempt with which Izuku described him caused her symbiotic coating to pulsate, transforming her lenses into sharp, predatory ones.
'Revenge is a dish best served hot or cold. If you don't mind my asking, what did he do to you?' She crossed one leg over the other, leaning in a little closer, curious about his backstory. The lighting on the terrace highlighted her face; her features looked far sharper and more alluring than those of any of Izuku's peers.
'It's none of your business. I've come to tell you just one thing: I don't want to be your errand boy, someone you can toy with. If you want obedient boys, then hire yourself a bounty hunter.' Momo was taken aback by the Phantom's audacity, but such a self-assured personality was far too appealing to simply break down and mould to her own needs. The charm of the younger generation lay in their flexibility; they adopted multiple perspectives and could adapt depending on the circumstances. Every young person's worldview was heavily influenced by adults or the media, shaping young and impressionable minds into future consumers and catering to those who stood to gain from it. Momo wasn't foolish enough not to understand this truth, and she had a clear financial advantage over 99 per cent of people across Japan.
'You males are all equally straightforward. You don't fully understand what I really want, and you're unlikely ever to grasp it, but the charm of youth compared to adulthood lies in a flexibility that adults lack.' Izuku raised an eyebrow, trying to unravel the riddle Momo was trying to convey to him. Momo's cunning nature meant she would never say anything outright. Izuku kept finding himself drawn to her body; she moved her limbs involuntarily, with such elegance and grace, as if she'd been practising this for more than just a day or a month. Izuku shook his head, trying to rid himself of the dirty thoughts and lust that his body was trying to impose on him.
'You have it all: money, servants, influence — everything people on this planet dream of. If you want more, then you're just a greedy girl who wants to subjugate everything to her will.' A minute of silence passed between them; the silence was deafening, as if it had struck at the very core of Momo's ego. No one in her life had ever dared to speak to her like that; prepared for every possible scenario, Momo was completely caught off guard. The feeling of being at a loss was something new and refreshing, and it made her curious to experience it again. She giggled, covering her lips with her fingers; like a victim backed into a corner, Momo felt a shiver run down her spine, and a faint sense of curiosity stir within her.
'You're right, I have a lot, but not everything. You see, although I am rich, this wealth has its rivals—those who want to lay claim to it and latch onto it like leeches.' Her expression changed with every word she spoke — from mild interest to restrained hatred, which was reflected on her face. Her well-groomed eyebrows looked slightly menacing, knowing what she was capable of with her parents' money.
'Come on, I'll show you something.' She stood up, holding out her hand to him and smiling; at last, she thought she'd found the key to the Phantom's castle. But her surprise knew no bounds when he declined her hand, standing up on his own whilst keeping his eyes fixed on her. Having failed to get a positive response, she walked ahead of him, displaying her straight posture and glossy hair, without a single trace of make-up. From his vantage point, Izuku could see the engineering precision with which the terrace had been built and, most surprisingly of all, that she was the sole owner of this place.
'Where are your parents?' Momo paid no heed to his question, replying with extreme coldness and without the slightest warmth.
'They're not in this building; they have more important matters to attend to. Anyway, it doesn't matter; I reckon you haven't seen any expensive things. Is that right?" Izuku paid no heed to her words, offering only the occasional reply. Much of what Momo said was incomprehensible to Izuku due to their different social standings.
'Judging by the gear you're wearing, it's easy to see: an unevenly smelted metal alloy, as if cobbled together from scrap, and cheap shoes with shock-absorbing gel, the sort worn by people with foot problems.' Listening to her precise analysis, Izuku was stunned by her intelligence and knowledge. Just by glancing at his gear, she'd been able to give an accurate assessment of his equipment.
'I wouldn't say your kit is useless. It certainly has its uses in certain situations, but it's extremely niche and specialised equipment that won't gain much popularity on the market.' As he quietly followed her, the details adorning the walls and the terrace's interior gave him cause for concern — not because of the potential danger of a trap or ambush, but because of something worse. As she continued to talk about his equipment, Izuku realised just how well-educated she was for her age. According to information from open sources, she was only 15, just a year older than Izuku.
'And what are you trying to say with that? I fight villains with what I've got; I resort to using gear only when necessary.' Grinning, Momo turned round, seizing Phantom's forearm with lightning-fast grace. Carefully and gently, she felt the metal from which her special gloves were made. Surprised, Izuku did nothing, allowing her to assess them. An inexplicable part of Izuku let her do whatever came into her head. With deft hand movements, she activated her claws, nearly damaging her skin, which was as smooth as silk.
'The stitching on these gloves isn't even. I'd venture to suggest that these gloves were made by a self-taught person with no experience in the field of hero gear.' The girl's deduction greatly impressed Izuku; she was extremely well-educated and erudite. A vast fortune was an excellent springboard for achieving many things. Yet the media portrayed the rich as nothing more than spoilt children to whom everyone was indebted. His former worldview and the images he had built up began to crumble gradually, like a sandcastle. With each passing day, his old beliefs seemed like nonsense or lies; a miserable feeling gripped him, forcing him to reflect.
'Your knowledge and the money you have could be put to good use for the benefit of others. You could save hundreds of lives if you wanted to.' Izuku turned away from her, thinking he'd managed to get through to her with his words. With heavy, unsteady strides, he walked towards his bag in complete silence, broken only by the ripples on the surface of the luxurious swimming pool. Before leaping from the terrace, Izuku paused for a moment to reflect before leaving; after all, collaborating with her opened up a host of once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. Noticing her guest's hesitation, Momo smirked, striding boldly towards him.
'Of course, my intellect and wealth would be put to good use for the benefit of humanity. But do people really deserve that? I see things you cannot see, and the problem is far from being simply crime. In that abyss lie the most perverse and insane things, from which people never return as their former selves.' Izuku stopped, as if an invisible lasso were holding him back from jumping off the roof.
'I'm not rich, and I don't have a fortune like yours. I do at least something to make people's lives a little better; I may not be the brightest, but I know for certain that I'm not useless.' Momo moved even closer, now pressing herself against his back, running her hands over him with gentle, caressing movements.
'Believe me, you're far from being the stupidest. You're just naive, like so many others; there are many things you don't understand. The sooner you realise this, the sooner you'll come to realise that you're missing out on a huge opportunity in life' . She was weighing him down, not with her physical weight, but with her logic; her weight was comparable to that of a lorry. The mental torture Izuku was enduring was incomparable to physical pain; any attempt to resist her words ended in complete failure and an even greater headache.
'You're a teenager, just like me. You don't have any quirks, but you've found a way to get round the law. And that's why you intrigue me; how did someone like you manage to deceive everyone, even those closest to you?' Izuku took a few steps back from her, trying to take in her words. His secret was known to no one, and the worst part was that not only did she know about it, but so did someone else. She was trying to get closer to him, taking increasingly bold steps, but, out of fear, Izuku used his tentacle to grab her by the waist and keep her at a distance. He hadn't hurt her; he'd merely gripped her gently. She didn't resist; she even touched the material the tentacle was made of — cold, as if it were something alive yet metallic.
'How do you know about this? Who else knows about it?' he asked. Now Izuku's tone had changed to a harsher, more commanding one; the lenses in his eyes had become sharp and angular. The tentacle drew her towards him slowly; Momo was beginning to like the image of a harsher Phantom, one who could instil fear with nothing but the tone of his voice. This trait was the most appealing to Momo; in a world where everything was built on politeness and sentimentality, it bored her and made her want to leave her opponent as quickly as possible.
"Think about it yourself. You're careless; you leave plenty of traces behind you. After every fight, you leave clues, even though you don't realise it. You're the most wanted villain among the heroes; do you think they'll hesitate to track you down?" Momo's arguments were logical – perhaps too logical. He was bleeding to death, neglecting his own safety and sustaining injuries that could prove fatal. All the while, the investigations continued unabated; they kept searching for any available information about him. Putting it all together, Izuku was paralysed by the fear of being caught; the slightest slip-up and his future would be over. He let her go, allowing her to come closer, no longer resisting and sinking into his own thoughts.
"I'm curious to know who's hiding behind that menacing mask? Show me who you really are." Her hands brushed against Izuku's chest, feeling his muscles, which were impressive for a teenager. Not the mountain of muscle you see in the media, but real, firm muscles, built solely through hard work. Izuku remained silent, offering no resistance to her hands; like a fluid, she moved towards his neck, trying to remove the mask. With deft movements of her hands, she unclipped the fastening at his neck, pulling him closer to her. The strength in his legs, with which he braced himself against the ground, gradually drained away as he focused on maintaining his composure. Like a nimble octopus, she wrapped her body around each of his limbs. His right arm seized her waist, pulling her even closer than during their last encounter. His left arm grasped her thigh, his fingers squeezing her impeccably voluptuous flesh. Her right leg, like a snake, coiled around his leg.
She offered no resistance. On the contrary, her body pressed supple against him, as if she had been created to fill every void and crevice in his armour. Izuku could feel her fingers sliding down his neck, searching for the edge of his mask. Her breath was warm and steady – not a hint of fear or even nervousness.
"You're trembling," she whispered, her lips almost brushing his ear. "Am I scaring you?"
"No," he exhaled, though it was a lie. She did scare him. But not in the same way as the heroes or the patrols did. She made him feel vulnerable. Too vulnerable.
Izuku's right hand was still clasped around her waist. His left was pressed against her thigh, and he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers through the thin silk of her dressing gown. His leg, intertwined with hers, trembled with tension.
"You want to save people with your own hands, but just imagine: a single word from you would be enough to save hundreds of people. The will of a single person is enough to achieve what an ordinary hero would strive for their whole life. It's not a thirst for power, just simple maths." Izuku let her go, even though his carnal desire clearly demanded the opposite; he unfastened the clasp around his neck as he took a step back. She was surprised at how easily he had managed to overcome his lust. Many in his position would have been unable to resist her when she was the most desirable and unattainable girl amongst the wealthy classes of society. His refusal symbolised that he possessed the will and freedom that needed to be taken away and subjugated. Momo looked at the Phantom with interest, pressing herself against him. Izuku took a step back, not allowing her to come any closer or touch him. There was no anger or confidence in his movements; this was a hallmark of Momo herself. She was trying to break him mentally, without resorting to physical violence. A single suggestion from her would have been enough to knock even the most convinced fanatic off their feet and make them doubt themselves. Izuku, to his own bewilderment, craved her touch, as if his physical desires were urging her to use her feminine charms.
"Just imagine for a moment how your power would save the seriously ill, the poor, orphans and, ultimately, the workers who so desperately need help in all circumstances. You could do what an ordinary hero cannot." Izuku was overwhelmed by her logical arguments; like a predator, she closed in on him, ignoring any obstacles. He found more and more logic in her words, and more often than not, they were frighteningly accurate. Izuku, unable to reply, tried to create some breathing space; it would seem that a single kick would be enough to subdue this seemingly fragile-looking girl, but he lacked the courage to do so, even though his physical prowess would have allowed it.
'Your fame will be sung among ordinary people. Children will regard you as their idol, and adults will admire you. The most devoted will weave legends about you and bring you gifts, and the fame you will enjoy will be enough to make your enemies fall to their knees before you." Unable to withstand any further temptations, Izuku stopped retreating and stood before her at full height, finding his footing so that he could stand as firm as a rock.
"Enough of your nonsense; I have no need for fame or the recognition of others. Tell me what you want, and I might be able to help you." The symbiote inside Izuku was taken aback by this turn of events; it had remained silent throughout the conversation, but as soon as matters reached a critical juncture, it decided to inquire about the situation.
"You're bluffing, aren't you?" asked the symbiote with interest. Izuku didn't resist temptation, but his encounters with Momo were revealing an unexpected side of him that even he hadn't realised existed.
"Yes, I want to find out what she's up to. If I learn something important, I'll be able to turn the situation to my advantage." Momo raised an eyebrow and took a renewed interest in his words.
"I have a rival from another company, for example, Ochako Uraraka from the Uraraka Construction Group. Her father's company is doing truly appalling things that half the population of Japan knows nothing about. My aim is to break her as quickly as possible and force the company's board of directors to sell their shares to me." Listening to her tirade and the cruelty with which she had uttered her rival's name, Izuku realised that this was an obsession with power and proof of her desire to dominate her enemies and rivals. Having finished explaining her plans, she moved closer to him, using her charm. This time she looked him straight in the eye, anticipating the moment he would remove his mask.
"I'll think about it." The tentacle slipped out from his back, grabbed the black bag and slung it over his shoulder. Shaking off any unnecessary carnal thoughts, Izuku turned away from her, feigning indifference.
"Think carefully. You're missing out on a lot, and I'm ready to show you something that no one but you will ever see." With a sly smile, she grabbed his shoulders with both hands. With one hand, she bared her shoulder, revealing just how luxurious her skin was compared to others'. No excess fat, just lean muscle and well-cared-for skin that was hard to ignore. Izuku turned away from the sight; struggling to look away, he leapt high into the air, jumping off the terrace and leaving her alone in the opulent building.
Shedding his gear, Izuku tossed his black bag aside, trying to rethink his life's ideas and principles. His legs felt weak, and his thoughts weighed far heavier on him than the injury he'd sustained in battle. It was the fine line between a hero and a villain. Senku Saki was still alive, and no one had found him. This dangerous maniac was roaming the streets, searching for his next victim. Izuku did not want to see someone else's grave, where people were mourning a victim killed by a monster who knew only how to inflict pain for its own pleasure.
With a heavy heart, Izuku opened the bag containing the files on several dozen victims of Saki's crimes. The files were neatly organised by date — from the first victim to the last, who had been killed only recently. Using his tentacles, Izuku searched amongst the plain folders for the one he was looking for. It was hard to see the name of a loved one in a police file. On the first page was a photograph of Inko taken before her murder, along with information about her and her family circumstances. The further Izuku turned the pages, the more terrifying the ink and the words written on them seemed.
During the investigation, the police examined the scene where the victim had died and the circumstances in which his mother had been murdered. A wave of fear swept through Izuku's body, and it was utterly repulsive to see the mutilated body of his mother, who certainly did not deserve such a brutal death. Numerous photographs of the corpse were taken for the report. As Izuku looked at each photograph, his heart clenched, and instead of tears, only a blind rage arose, capable of burning everything it touched. The marks of inhuman bites on her body were ragged, as if the killer had used all his strength to tear off a large chunk of flesh, like a predator on the wild savannah. The photographs of the body continued upwards and also showed bite marks on her neck, where the carotid artery had been severed. The clothes she had been wearing were stained with her blood. With every new photograph, Izuku trembled and his breathing quickened as he tried to calm his body's rage. For the first time, he regretted his actions; unable to bring himself to look any further, Izuku closed the folder and pushed it aside, covering his eyes with his hands. The deeper he delved, the clearer it became that he was the very embodiment of human cruelty.
Izuku looked at the other folders containing the lists of victims. He was still shaken by the fear inspired by Saki's treachery and heartlessness. Saki had felt neither remorse nor pangs of conscience when he killed his victims. Articles about wanted criminals had spoken of this, and the news had repeatedly emphasised how he embodied the devil in human form. The name Senku Saki was so repulsive and abhorrent that some television channels refused to report on him.
"Soft-heartedness and pacifism—that's your main problem. Perhaps Momo is right: naivety is your greatest obstacle." Izuku was jolted back to reality by these words. His former worldview was cracking under the pressure of the upcoming choices. The choice had already been made — to eliminate Senku Saki — but Izuku could not have imagined just how difficult it would be to carry out this decision as he set out on his search.
"The choice has been made; I cannot back down. I didn't know it would be this hard. This will be the hardest search yet. How can I look people in the eye after what I've seen?" Shame, pain, fear and revulsion overwhelmed him. This emotional cocktail of negative feelings affected him as powerfully as hunger affects a predator. His heart had never been pounded so hard; in an attempt to cope with the pain, it pounded, trying to cope with the emotional strain.
"Is this what they call the path to achieving one's true goal? Facing an unrelenting headache and hundreds of 'why?' thoughts?" His hands clutched his head in pain. The line between good and evil was blurring in Izuku's mind, crumbling like sand. A multitude of tentacles were rummaging through the contents of the bag, sorting the folders and files into the correct order. Most of victims, with descriptions and photographs of those who had been killed. The task ahead promised to be gruelling, not because of the volume, but because of the content of these files.
"Just one more time, and that's it—my nightmares will be over. My fears will vanish, and I'll leave it all behind. I just have to see it through." Having come to terms with the situation, Izuku still couldn't believe he was taking such a step. He had built hundreds of mental barriers in his mind, and he had broken just as many of them with his own hands and reasoning. Each mental barrier was hard to break, but with every step Izuku felt more confidence and determination to do what many people wouldn't dare to do, knowing all the consequences. The final barrier he had to break was flickering, and the voice of compassion in his head asked questions that made him stop.
"What will you do afterwards? What will our loved ones say about this? He's a human being too; he needs help, just like everyone else. We mustn't put our own goals above those of others; that's what makes us heroes." Before the barrier shattered into several thousand pieces, Izuku answered himself honestly.
"No one but me will ever find out about this. A hero is someone who must do whatever it takes, even if it means tarnishing their reputation." Izuku opened his eyes and, glancing at the files, let out a heavy sigh. It would take at least five days of non-stop study to go through all the details.
"There's a lot of work ahead," growled the symbiote, before Izuku opened the file on the first victim, Senku Saki, documented at the age of seventeen. As he checked the dossier and the available information, Izuku was surprised to see childhood photographs of Saki himself. A simple child with a toy resembling an aeroplane, Saki's quirk was eerie, if not downright terrifying. The quirk was listed on his medical records as 'Meat Ripper', granting him phenomenal physical attributes: strength, speed, stamina and extraordinary flexibility throughout his entire body. Many pages of the file contained descriptions of his school life and grades, to which Izuku paid little attention, apart from one photograph. Before committing his first murder at the age of seventeen, he dropped out of school and went to work in the coal mines to earn the big money that was the subject of rumours in his village. The file also highlighted one detail — he had a fascination with conspiracy theories. According to his teachers, he would talk about mystical things and claim that the entire Hero Society was one big conspiracy. Naturally, his peers did not appreciate his hobby and mocked him relentlessly.
"The information about his quirk states that he can only consume raw animal meat. As for human flesh and blood, he first tasted them at the age of seventeen." Izuku scratched his chin, studying the further details of his quirk. The habit of studying every quirk had stayed with him, and he found a use even for the most useless ones. Senku Saki's quirk could have been useful in many circumstances, but the madness and euphoria he felt went to his head so much that he lost his mind.
Saki's first victim was Miwa Narihashi; her body was discovered in a rubbish bin in the city park. There were claw marks all over her body and traces of torn flesh on her leg. Saki had also stolen her jewellery and left her to die in a rubbish container, into which she barely fit. The first documented murder in the file also contained several USB sticks with CCTV footage showing him fleeing into a wooded area after committing the murder. Following this incident, a manhunt was launched, and every effort was made to track him down. In the 14 years since he was placed on the wanted list, no one had found him; only his victims had been found. The more Izuku read the files on the murdered victims, the worse he felt. Rage and anger had no place within him, struggling to break free. The beauty of a young mind is that it can construct a vessel in which to store everything it feels. The bodies of those mercilessly murdered, and the grief-stricken relatives and loved ones of the victims, left a deep impression on Izuku.
The most appalling thing about this case was that there were not five or six victims, but as many as twenty-seven over a period of 14 years. Izuku had no doubt left: this was the most terrifying person in modern Japan. Every action has a reason behind it, but what drives such people to commit such abhorrent acts? Deep in thought, Izuku put the papers aside, lost in his musings for a long time. Many details had been made public, but no clues as to his whereabouts had yet been found. The Tentacles worked intuitively, sorting each file by order and date. Each file was accompanied by USB sticks containing CCTV footage. As Izuku examined all the possible evidence from the crime scenes, he realised just how mutilated and desecrated the victims had been. Izuku shuddered at the sight of what Saki's victims had been reduced to, mutilated beyond recognition. Based on information released from open sources, many reporters were producing reports and documentaries about him in order to boost viewing figures on television channels. Watching his media popularity grow, Izuku was baffled by people's stupidity.
"How can such a deranged killer be glorified? What is wrong with people?" According to reports, even criminals refused to have anything to do with him for the sake of their own safety and personal gain. The social depths to which Saki had sunk were beyond description, even for the most compassionate and empathetic of souls. The most repulsive thing about all this was how people began to treat him as time went on. Such a loathsome individual had fans and followers who tried to justify his actions. After the second documented murder, his fans tried to exonerate him on every count and even raised money for a lawyer. Many put forward theories that Saki was a 'leveler' who rids society of vile and weak people, making it purer. After hearing such descriptions, Izuku lost all desire to have anything to do with such people.
'How can anyone justify such actions? Showing compassion for someone like that is the same as saving your own murderer," Andy growled; human cruelty repulsed the alien. In his world, killing one's own kind was a normal occurrence, but the sadism and brutality with which people killed one another was utterly horrifying and repulsive.
Faced with this sort of information, Izuku tossed the folder onto the table, feeling mentally exhausted. Before he'd met the symbiote, such information had been the stuff of science fiction and scary bedtime stories, but this was the reality he now lived in. Someone was deliberately distracting people to protect them from themselves.
"Why are they doing this?" — he asked point-blank. No answer followed, only silence and the ticking of the clock.
"It took us two hours to examine the case of the first victim. Looking at the other files, I reckon we'll need more than two hours." Fear and paranoia had been the main driving forces behind closing the matter with Saki. Izuku had lost what was most precious to him, but he'd found people who truly appreciated him for who he was — albeit clumsy, strange and, at times, awkward — yet they were willing to accept him as he was. For the sake of such close friends, Izuku was prepared to change and genuinely cared about them. The fear of being left alone once more with the demons in his head, goading him into immoral acts, never left him. Izuku exhaled, feeling a heavy weight in his heart; hot air burst from his nostrils, foreshadowing a difficult and complex task ahead.
"We shall find freedom; what has been holding us back will be no more. Our fear will vanish, and at last we can relax, whilst the souls of the dead will rest in peace," his thoughts whispered to him. The weight of responsibility and his thoughts made it harder for Izuku to fall asleep, despite the complete darkness throughout the flat. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, and his nervous system still sensed an external threat, despite the silence throughout the house. There were too many scenarios and plans, and his mind was ready to carry out every single one of them.
Hour after hour, tick by tick of the clock, until the need for sleep and rest finally got the better of his constantly working brain. Despite having slept for four hours, Izuku got up as though his brain had been working for 24 hours, trying to solve a quantum physics problem. His head felt heavier than the rest of his body, and with every step it conjured up new, dreadful scenarios he didn't want to think about.
The walk seemed tediously long, surrounded by adults and other teenagers just like him. Lessons had become longer than usual because of the upcoming exams. Izuku avoided eye contact as he made his way to his classroom. He had seen something horrifying that people didn't talk about in public. The fear of being caught doing such a thing unnerved him more than the shame of being exposed in front of the whole school.
"Oh, hi! Did you sleep well?" Expecting nothing bad, Izuku felt a shiver run through his whole body at the voice that asked him that.
"Not now, please. How am I going to look her in the eye? Why am I such a coward?" He turned his head to the right, and the familiar yellow hair and glasses left no doubt as to who it was. Out of fear, Izuku broke out in a sweat again, despite his tiredness. He wasn't known for being a good actor; whenever Izuku tried to pretend that everything was fine, it was a blatant lie to the person he was talking to.
"Hey, I've had a good night's sleep and I'm a bit tired, but that won't stop me from passing my exams—that's how I feel. Am I sure?" — his voice sounded uncertain, which was uncharacteristic of Izuku. The oddities in his behaviour made her feel anxious and even apprehensive. His strange behaviour prevented Melissa from speaking openly with him, and they walked side by side in silence.
"Are you sure you can pass the exam? I'm not sure you're ready for it," she said, worried. Izuku's reaction was immediate. He joked, made excuses and came up with reasons to worry, but it all sounded unnatural coming from someone as sincere as him. Up until that moment, he'd been far too open and had even shared what worried him most, yet now he seemed to be afraid of himself. A forced smile froze on his face at the sight of her, but his eyes refused to meet hers, which made the situation with Izuku even stranger.
The whole school day felt unusual and anything but monotonous, as if everyone was ready to point a finger at Izuku. The whole class and the rest of the world seemed like a threat in his eyes, merging into one huge threat.
"No, no, not again. I don't want to go back." That familiar sense of fear and paranoia overwhelmed him once more during the lesson. The sounds around him began to fade, becoming mere background noise, whilst the sound of his heartbeat was so loud it drowned out everything else. Time seemed to slow down in his perception, but the moment someone touched his shoulder, Izuku reacted sharply, grabbing the person's hand.
"Are you all right? You're acting as if you've seen a ghost," — Melissa's hand rested on his shoulder, but she could feel all of Izuku's fear in her wrist. Out of fear, Izuku squeezed her hand; Melissa could endure the unpleasant pain, but the way her friend was starting to behave strangely worried her greatly.
"What's happened to me? I was just sitting here thinking about the lesson, wasn't I?" She shook her head, dismissing his false arguments. Trying to lie even more, Melissa began to get frustrated by Izuku's attempts. It was as if he didn't notice himself from the outside, lost in his own fears and nightmares. Taking a deep breath, Melissa, at a loss, explained Izuku's unusual behaviour to him.
"It's nothing like that. Have you seen yourself from the outside? You were breathing heavily in class, as if you couldn't get enough air into your lungs. You kept glancing at everyone else, and even at me, trying to spot a threat," said Melissa sadly. She didn't like pointing out other people's flaws, but ignoring such behaviour would have been a foolish decision. Izuku covered his face with his hands, hiding his shame from her; it was shameful to act that way and lie to those who cared about him, and even to those he cherished with all his heart – he was letting them down, causing them to worry.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. I'll definitely make amends; it won't happen again, I promise," Izuku replied, a note of sadness in his voice. She placed her hand on his shoulder. Izuku turned towards her in desperation and saw not anger, but compassion on her face. Izuku's body turned methodically towards her, meeting her gaze.
"I'm sorry if I said something wrong. I noticed you were nervous and wanted to make sure you were all right." Izuku stood up from his seat, grabbing his rucksack and notebooks. Her perceptiveness and desire to help a loved one were the very best qualities Andy had ever seen in people. It turned out that people were capable not only of causing harm, but also of showing care and compassion simply for the sake of it, rather than out of affection. All Andy had ever seen in people was anger, lust, greed and avarice, which they displayed in all their glory whilst observing the actions of their host. Few people showed compassion for their fellow human beings or love, which was a strange but no less powerful emotion than anger. Andy couldn't understand where her attachment to them came from; she had everything they dreamt of: love, care, understanding, a warm home — she had all of it in abundance, more than they did.
"Don't turn down her help," said Andy, trying to understand her even better. Izuku was making excuses to her again, unaware of just how much deeper he was digging himself into a hole. Melissa's mood had already shifted from indifference to irritation. Izuku had annoyed her time and again, particularly with his excuses instead of telling the truth.
The school day had long since ended, and with that, there was no point in maintaining formalities – just as there is no point in offering oxygen to a drowning man. Izuku remained silent the whole way, until he himself broke the silence as they walked. Feeling guilty, Izuku took her hand, drawing her attention to himself.
"Sorry for everything that happened today. I shouldn't have done that. Can I buy you a soda?" Izuku's cheeks flushed at the offer. Melissa didn't believe his words, but now Izuku's confusion wasn't due to guilt or bewilderment, but to embarrassment. Now this was more like the Izuku she knew. She smiled and squeezed his hand tighter. Melissa liked how her friend, albeit unintentionally, looked away from her every time he took the initiative.
"I'll be a very happy girl." Melissa covered her mouth with her hands, embarrassed by the silly thing she'd said. Izuku smiled at her, as if he'd let her words go in one ear and out the other. Her embarrassment seemed charming and endearing. An embarrassed Melissa and a silly Izuku walked on, refusing to look at one another. It all seemed strange, despite Melissa's distrust of him. Ahead of them was a supermarket called '4/24', a chain owned by a large corporation. Its advantage over ordinary shops was that it stocked cold drinks and hot baked goods. The supermarket was associated with young people, and there were good reasons for that: after all, what could be more refreshing after a hard day at university than a cold smoothie or a soda?
Despite the safety of Japan's streets, there was a risk of attack by criminals, and most supermarkets employed qualified security guards. Opening the door, two teenagers entered the supermarket, and as soon as the door opened, the alarm went off, alerting the security guard.
"You two, take off your bags and go through the metal detector." Startled by the security guard's gruff voice, Melissa hid behind Izuku, clutching his shoulders. Izuku frowned at the guard's tone and walked towards him. The guard meant business. Offering no resistance, Izuku walked through the metal detector, which resembled a frame, and to his surprise, it beeped. Melissa then walked through, and the metal detector beeped in the same way. Holding a tablet in his hands, the security guard perceived them as a threat to the public and, without checking their bags, reached a verdict.
"Show me your medical certificates or ID." He held out his hand imperiously, demanding their medical certificates. Offended by this gesture, Izuku couldn't contain his emotions and raised his voice.
"We just want to buy some soda. Why all this fuss about medical certificates?" In response, the security guard merely smirked and shoved Izuku in the chest. The menacing security guard, who was two heads taller than Izuku, paid no heed to logic. The shove was so forceful that, as she stumbled backwards, Melissa fell, slamming her back into the panoramic glass.
"Get lost, both of you, so I don't have to look at your quirkless butts. You're the children of thieves, rapists and con artists." Melissa's glasses had slipped off, and Izuku's only desire in the face of such rudeness was to teach the insolent security guard a lesson for his friend's sake, but his concern got the better of his foolishness. Izuku helped her to her feet, picking up their bags as he did so. The till operator and the manager were in the shop, watching the whole incident unfold.
"Children, let me explain something to you. Many supermarkets are installing new anti-theft devices to prevent theft, and this will significantly improve safety for people in supermarkets." Izuku refused to listen to any further explanations and walked away from that wretched place with Melissa. Once again, people were pointing fingers at him because of his background, and now that he'd made a friend, they were insulting her, preventing them from simply doing their shopping. Silently, Izuku put Melissa's glasses on, feeling ashamed in front of her, because it was his idea that had got them into this tricky situation.
"Shall we go to another supermarket? I can think of a few shops round here." Before Izuku could take a step, Melissa stopped him by grabbing his forearm. Her cheerful mood had given way to sadness and a sense of sorrow she couldn't quite put into words.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. Izuku took her hand, feeling a little annoyed; he assured her that everything was fine, apart from the security guard's shove. Whilst searching for a new supermarket, Izuku remembered Re Destro's new device, designed to identify quirks, but he hadn't expected it to happen so quickly.
Even ordinary supermarkets had installed such devices, and this was becoming a problem. A day of misfortune and oddities – that was how today could be described. They'd been refused entry to six shops, despite showing their money. Melissa was saddened by the way people treated them. All the positivity in Melissa's eyes was fading. With every refusal, Izuku noticed Melissa's sadness; she had lost faith in him and in the day itself. Eventually, he was lucky enough to come across a shop assistant who let them buy soda without a medical certificate.
"It's not a day, it's a disaster. What sort of medical certificate are you on about? It's just too stupid to make sense." Despite having achieved their goal, Izuku noticed that Melissa was silent, lost in her own thoughts. Izuku's heart began to beat faster at her pensive gaze, as if he were looking at himself from the outside. It looked pitiful and sad, as if a child had had their sweet taken away, and, watching Melissa's enthusiasm slip through his fingers, Izuku couldn't bring himself to look on indifferently; he moved as close to her as he could. She seemed not to notice him until he touched her arm. She took notice and wondered what excuse he would come up with this time.
'It's my fault, I'm sorry. I should have thought things through before acting as if there was a bomb in my bag.' She cheered up slightly at his words. After all, however strange her friend might be, he knew how to admit his mistakes. The unpleasant feeling that they were being unfair left a bitter aftertaste. No one had ever pointed the finger at her because of her background. Sometimes her classmates would make crude jokes about her being a foreigner of 'unusual' origin, but Melissa accepted it and didn't deny it. People push them around and demand things of them that they've never demanded before.
"Did you shut yourself off when you spoke about the person who caused you so much pain?" Izuku looked at her in astonishment, but, after letting out a sigh, nodded. She glanced down at her shoes in disappointment, as if looking for something interesting. Izuku couldn't think of anything to say, and, as if backed into a corner, took a desperate step.
"Yes, I shut myself off after that! I didn't want to share my problems with anyone because… because…" Izuku's voice rose and fell, as if all his true emotions were beginning to spill out without tears or sniffles. His heart clenched desperately, making it hard to breathe properly, and every limb felt heavy with the weight of the words he'd spoken. Izuku fell silent, realising what he was saying. A silence hung between them; the mystery Izuku was harbouring was unbearable for Melissa.
"Because what?" — she could see with her own eyes how he was almost forcing the answers out. It was as if something was preventing him from telling the truth.
"I… don't want to be a problem for others. I'd rather disappear than be a burden to my loved ones. That's why I lie and say everything's fine." As if a weight had been lifted from his heart, Izuku was able to take a deep breath, filling his lungs with oxygen. Melissa remained silent, unable to say anything in reply. Once again, she was convinced that her friend was hiding everything, even from himself, refusing to acknowledge the truth. It had taken a nudge for him to open up, like a flower revealing its petals.
"Home is usually a place where you can feel comfortable, but that's not the case here. It's quiet at home, lonely… and dreadful, as if I were in some kind of vast, isolated fortress. I don't want to be there. I feel miserable at home; I say I'm waiting for my father or missing him, but I know he simply abandoned me because I was a quirkless." Paying no heed to anyone, Izuku poured out everything from his heart. The whole world before him vanished, and for the first time in his life he was being honest not only with someone else, but with himself. With every new sentence, the truth about him sounded harsher and harsher, until it reached its most candid moment.
"I… go out at night to…" Suddenly, his tongue froze, as if something delicate had wrapped itself around it, preventing him from speaking. Izuku wondered why the symbiote had decided to interrupt him, until it dawned on him. With a slight sense of fear, he dared to glance at Melissa and saw her looking at him sadly. With his mouth agape, Izuku wanted to come up with an excuse for his behaviour, but he had no words to justify himself.
"Was all of that true?" she asked, breaking the awkward silence. Izuku kept asking himself: "Should I have opened up to her like that? What if she refuses to be my friend?" Her silence made Izuku feel awkward and self-conscious; she was analysing his every word, and that frightened him. Izuku closed his eyes, turning away from her, bracing himself for the worst, because the last time he'd opened up to someone he trusted, it had become a source of ridicule and jokes
Suddenly, to his surprise, Izuku felt a warm, soft woman's hand on the back of his palm. He felt the same warmth on his cheek, caressing him like a silk blanket tickling his sensitive skin. Puzzled by this behaviour, he opened his eyes and saw her drawing even closer to him, so close that Izuku could clearly hear her heartbeat and feel her trembling hand. She wasn't crying, but the shape of her eyes and the expression on her face revealed something Izuku had never seen in anyone else.
"Have you lied to everyone you care about?" Izuku's gaze fell to the ground, but Melissa's hand on his cheek turned his head so that he was looking only at her.
"I didn't have any…" — Izuku's voice trembled as he tried to come up with an excuse and an explanation, but the truth he was hiding burst forth with such force that his mental barriers couldn't contain it. Melissa's first reaction was sadness. All this time, he hadn't appreciated her at all, which made her heart begin to pound painfully and her lips tremble against one another as she tried to cope with it all.
"Not until you and Fuyumi-sensei came along. I didn't understand how to keep you both in my life, and I don't know what I need to do to stop you from turning your backs on me." Her heart took another blow, accompanied by goosebumps. The emotional intensity between them made them both want to hold each other close and never let go, even if it meant the end of all life. Her heart burned painfully with a fiery heat, causing Melissa to breathe in short, heavy gasps, taking in more air than usual.
"Be honest with us, and no one will walk away from you. Actually, I've been lying to you too, and I didn't want to burden you. I don't think you'd want that, would you?" — the sad smile on her face left her feeling completely drained. Feeling emotionally overwhelmed by his real problems, he's unlikely to agree to listen to a nerd.
"I want… please, tell me everything. I'm ready." — With long pauses, Izuku waited until she'd said everything that was troubling her. She was a coward and afraid — it was plain to see. To give her confidence, Izuku took a desperate and completely rash step, which seemed the best way to give her confidence and courage. She decided to take off her glasses, placing them on the bench beside her. Unfortunately for Izuku, there were people in the park where they were, but, not caring about them, he grabbed her hand and, without squeezing too hard, pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her back.
"I lied to you too," she whispered, burying her nose in his shoulder. Her voice trembled, and he could feel her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, as if she were afraid that the support she was clinging to might let go and vanish. "Every day. Every time I said I was fine."
Izuku froze. His arms, wrapped around her back, tightened slightly. He could feel her heart beating somewhere close to his chest — fast, erratic, almost panicked.
"I'm always cheerful and try to help, but deep down I'm… looking for someone who won't judge my… my… quirkless nature. It saddens me to see the terrible things people write about us online, as if we were a problem for society." With every word she spoke, she burrowed deeper and deeper into Izuku's chest, feeling mental pain. Izuku's heart ached at her words and her rapid breathing. He understood, but couldn't think of a reply to support and cheer her up.
"When people compare me and my achievements to someone else, I'm afraid I'll be branded a disgrace. I act cheerful and confident so that no one will make fun of me, but when I get home, I don't even know why I… exist." It was a familiar feeling, one that Izuku had struggled to shake off. He didn't care what others thought, listening only to those close to him. All this time, Izuku had thought Melissa was more confident than he was, but in reality she was just as vulnerable as he was. Remembering the hardships he'd had to go through, Izuku didn't want her to go through the same thing.
"They simply don't consider us human; we're nothing but commoners to them all. Why can't we live like ordinary people? All I've ever heard about my future from my peers is: 'I was born to…'" She paused for a long moment, which made Izuku shudder. Goosebumps spread all over his body. Insults directed at the quirkless were rife online; many suggested that quirkless women should become courtesans for wealthy foreigners.
"Don't listen to them; they're… just a bunch of silly fools who know nothing. It's not up to them to decide who we'll be." Izuku spoke from the bottom of his heart, pouring out his very soul for her sake. Having never done anything like this before, he could hardly believe it himself. Throughout the conversation, he'd been trying to come up with counter-arguments for her, trying to shield her from destructive thoughts. As he protected her, he paid no attention to how calmly she was breathing in his embrace, smiling warmly as she ran her hands down his back. Neither of them dared to break the embrace, but Izuku was the first to do so, hesitantly. Their tone shifted, and from a sad, hesitant note, Izuku regained his sincere smile thanks to her.
"We're friends, aren't we?" asked Izuku, smiling. In response, Melissa felt nervous, because by any measure Izuku was far from an ordinary friend, but something more that was difficult to describe in simple words. It was hard to imagine how a teenager with a broken spirit could transform into such a positive, optimistic person. That was the beauty of Izuku, with all his quirks. Watching him from the sidelines, Melissa had no doubt that Izuku had been a butterfly with a broken wing all along. Butterflies cannot see the beauty of their own wings, and in the same way, Izuku did not realise his own worth. Deceived, broken, heartbroken, desperate, yet still refusing to give up on his attempts to take flight – that was where his beauty and courage lay in Melissa's eyes, almost exactly what she had been dreaming of.
"Yes, we're friends. Best friends." Izuku was aware that his keen interest in her was turning into something more personal and inexplicable. whilst noticing her modesty, Izuku failed to realise what a beautiful flower she truly was; her yellow hair was like petals unfurling in the wind. The cold, which frightened her, made her curl up, revealing to no one what lay hidden beneath the bud. Because of the cold, she closed her petals, not allowing the damp to kill her individuality. Izuku marvelled at her resilience, despite the cold she faced, standing her ground and not letting anyone pluck her.
It was boring for the Flower to stand all day on a single stem in the middle of the flowerbed. She had grown and opened her petals much earlier than the other flowers, and so she had absolutely no one to talk to. Then, one day, an unfamiliar, very beautiful butterfly alighted on her. It must have flown from far away, because the Flower had never seen such beautiful wings before. The flower noticed that the butterfly's beautiful wings were broken; despite its ailment, it continued to fly, conquering the heights. Whilst the butterfly rested with its wings folded, the flower complained to it about her loneliness and told it how boring and joyless her life was. The Butterfly took pity on the lonely Flower. He decided not to fly any further, but to settle nearby. He wanted to visit the Flower more often and tell her about the places he had already been to.
Now the Butterfly would flit over to the Flower several times a day with news, and she, spreading her petals wide, would joyfully welcome her handsome guest.
"Friends should help each other, shouldn't they?" he asked, making no attempt to hide his emotions. Izuku's eyes were beaming, and no one could take that joy away from him except himself.
"Of course it is. We're just like these two cans of soda that we had such a hard time finding." Izuku smiled as he took out his own can of soda and compared them. Unaware of the danger, Izuku opened his drink first, ignoring the warning, and paid the price with a powerful jet of soda spraying into his face and staining his uniform. The fizzy drink burst open with a monstrous pop due to the carbon dioxide in the can, spraying the drink in all directions, including right at him. They laughed at the incident, especially as they watched Izuku, who was tasting his drink by collecting drops of the sprayed fizzy drink on his finger.
Not the least bit embarrassed, Melissa opened her can, repeating the same scenario as with Izuku. They laughed again at the absurd situation, tasting the soda in a rather odd way. Having smeared her glasses with the sweet drink, Melissa took them off and savoured the soda.
"We're like two bottles of soda that've burst." Izuku's silly joke sounded even sillier given her dishevelled appearance. Surprisingly, she liked the joke; her reaction was immediate — she gave a little giggle into her hand.
"Despite that, it's surprisingly tasty." With silly expressions on their faces, they walked through the streets bustling with life, having forgotten their emotional turmoil. They both seemed to be enjoying it, and Izuku certainly didn't want to return to the grey walls of his home, filled with despair. Everything around them became vivid, filled with bright colours. The sparkle in both teenagers' eyes returned, filling the monotonous greyness with something bright, as if the sun were breaking through the gaps in thick clouds.
With each new meeting, secrets were revealed as they opened up to one another. Izuku's heart fluttered at this turn of events. Something new was unfolding in his life, and it both drew him in and frightened him at the same time. Secrets were laid bare, as he finally found someone he could trust, and the consequences of his fear of her.
"What if she finds out too much about me? Will she turn away from me completely once she knows who I really am?" Thoughts of revelation swirled through his mind. The hunt for the killer and the damage he was inflicting would send anyone into shock and cause them to distance themselves immediately, under any pretext. Melissa snapped him out of his reverie and, with a serious expression, asked an unusual question that Izuku hadn't considered before.
"If someone offered you the chance to go somewhere you'd never set foot before, would you agree to leave home and start from scratch?"
***
"Unlike you, Natsuo, Fuyumi at least tried to fight for freedom. But you, you braggart, didn't even try; you simply gave up without a fight the moment you sensed danger." Since their last encounter with the Himura clan, the Todoroki family had undergone radical changes. Like a bolt from the blue, nagging thoughts about their safety began to surface. The might of the Himura clan had not even taken note of the status of the number one hero — the Endeavor; the agreement was so legally binding that no one could influence it, not even the signatories themselves.
"So what? I'm a doctor, not a warrior! What did you expect from me?" — sitting at the family table, Touya kept his eyes fixed on Natsuo, who was eating his meal carefree, as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening in their family.
"You're always whingeing about how miserable you are. So is that your excuse? We're risking our lives to fight for our freedom, and you're acting as if you couldn't care less!" — The rest of the Todoroki family were also present at the table, apart from Enji, who hadn't yet returned from his heroic patrol. This played right into Natsuo's hands, as he had never considered Enji to be his real father. Touya looked at his younger brother with disgust.
"So what? I didn't ask to be born, and I didn't ask for our father to be a sick scumbag obsessed with genetics." Toiya grudgingly acknowledged his younger brother's words, but he didn't like the contemptuous tone with which he'd uttered the word 'father'. Enji wasn't the ideal father he might have dreamed of, but he wasn't the worst either. Everyone had suffered equally at Enji's hands, both physically and mentally, which was on a par with the actions of a villain.
"Because of his own worthlessness, he nearly burnt out Fuyumi's eyes and trained Shoto until his bones cracked. He ignored you too brother, until you started training like a man possessed. He raped our mother until Shoto was born." Touya stood up and, losing his composure, ignored the anxious glances of the other family members. Rei watched it all with pain and despair, unable to say a word. It was her fault that she hadn't left Japan when she had the chance; it was her fault that she hadn't told the truth about their origins in time. Looking at herself, Rei refused even to call herself a bad mother; ordinary people from simple families would have called her a 'sow', reduced to being a servant to her children and husband. The worst thing about all this was that it wasn't a lie, and now, having failed in her role as a mother, she would reap the consequences of her inaction. Her own sons were ready to start a fight at the family dinner table
"This isn't how I imagined my life would be." Disappointed, she left the room, covering her face with her hands. Touya, watching his disappointed mother leave the room, felt out of sorts himself.
"Do you think before you speak such hurtful words, Natsuo?" Natsuo snorted, wiping the remains of food from his mouth. Touya was angry, as evidenced by the blue flames at the tips of his fingers.
"I forgot to ask you, Mr 'Responsible for Everything'. You're our eldest brother, so do us a favour and put right our father's mistakes." Touya froze. Natsuo's words hung in the air like a heavy, poisonous cloud, much like the smoke from his blue flame. He looked at his younger brother — at his relaxed posture, his indifferent face, the way he was calmly picking his teeth, as if he'd just been discussing the weather.
'Fix Father's mistakes,' Touya repeated, and a hoarse chuckle crept into his voice. 'Easy for you to say. What about you? Are you ready to make amends for your own mistakes?"
Natsuo shrugged.
"I don't have any." An angry Touya grabbed his younger brother's T-shirt, showing him what he could expect if he didn't watch his tongue.
"What are you going to do, Touya? Beat me up like our father did, just as he used to beat Shoto?" Unable to bear such an insult, Touya shoved him with all his might. Watching this turn of events, Fuyumi tried to get up from the table, but was stopped by Shoto.
"I'm sorry, Shoto, I've lost my appetite after that." Struggling to get up from the table, Fuyumi found herself between the brothers, who were ready to beat each other up. Never before had a conflict between the brothers escalated to a fight. Natsuo had an extremely impatient and hot-tempered nature, even more so than Toiya's. Everyone had come to terms with his temperament, except for Touya, who couldn't stand Natsuo in certain situations. Natsuo was always sharp-tongued, hitting his opponent where it hurt most. Despite his sharp tongue, he was never known for his outstanding physical attributes; his build was massive, just like Enji's. Compared to Toia, Natsuo looked taller and larger in stature. Fuyumi always remembered Natsuo as a bigger lad who had a bone to pick with his father.
The verbal spat between them showed no sign of abating and flared up to such an extent that she didn't have the strength to restrain them both. Even Shoto had to put his meal on hold and hold Touya back from a fight. Her injured arm, despite the cast having been removed, was still weak and couldn't keep her older brother in check.
"Stop it, that's enough!!! You both need to calm down. Can't you see that Mum has left the table because of your row? Natsuo, stop behaving like a spoilt child and calm down at last!" — To the Fuyumi brothers' surprise, she suddenly burst out shouting to put a stop to the argument. The brothers fell silent, turning their attention to her; she had never shouted at them or urged them to take action before.
"I'd rather leave the family than have my father be the number one monster who's ruined all our lives. You're as naive as children if you defend him. Especially you, sister — you're denying the obvious. His remorse doesn't absolve him of what he's done to all of us." Fuyumi's heart wavered at his words; her chest burned as if she'd swallowed a red-hot coal, searing her insides. Panic gripped Fuyumi, and she took a step back, bumping into Touya. A minute's silence was enough for her to gather her thoughts.
"To me, he's a hero who admitted everything and repented. You're still angry with him, but you can't take it out on him and vent your frustration. If you hate him, then you hate all of us, including yourself. And here's the surprise — without him, we wouldn't be here." Fuyumi's angry tirade did not go unnoticed by Natsuo; he frowned, and his whole expression suggested he was upset, but for a split second his anger flared up just as quickly as the whole conflict had begun.
"I thought you were the smartest and most level-headed of us all. I'd rather side with Himura than stay here with you lot." That was the last straw; Touya's patience snapped at Natsuo's words. Unable to contain himself, Touya removed Shoto's hands from his waist and walked round Fuyumi. Touya's breath steamed like that of a bull intent on goring its matador.
"Touya, please, don't do this. All this is hurting me." Touya looked at her and stroked his sister's head. Fuyumi sensed Touya's intention, and, trusting in her elder brother's wisdom, she did not take any action to stop him. Without malice or anger, Touya approached Natsuo close enough that there was only the width of an index finger between them.
"If you want to join them, then get out of my sight..." — Touya pushed Natsuo in the chest with both hands, using all his strength. The force of the shove was enough to knock Natsuo off balance and send him tumbling onto his back. Natsuo's dazed expression turned to one of anger; without saying a word in reply, he shut the shoji with a characteristic snap and strode heavily towards the front door. Enji entered the house, covered in soot, looking dishevelled and exhausted from the day's events. Seeing his son Natsuo striding towards him with heavy steps, he wondered.
"Natsuo, what's happened?" Without explaining anything, Natsuo shoved his father in the chest. Grabbing the door handle, he looked at his father and uttered a short phrase before leaving the estate.
"None of your business, old man." The door slammed shut, leaving a painful echo in its wake. Touya met his father at the entrance; a single glance from his father was enough for Touya to tell him what needed to be said.
"He'll grumble a bit and then calm down."