Location: Endeavor Agency – Logistics Floor
Date: One and a Half Months Later | 02:00 PM
CLICK.
CLACK.
CLICK.
The logistics floor of the Endeavor Agency sounded like a normal office. Not a crisis center. Not a war room. Just an office.
It had been six weeks since the new combat protocols went live. It had also been two weeks since the second episode of Keeping Up with the Todorokis hit the digital broadcast networks.
HUUMM.
The air conditioning was running at a quiet, steady hum.
Haruka sat at her desk.
She didn't have a single red damage-claim folder in front of her.
She was leaning back in her chair, casually tapping a pen against her chin while looking at a crossword puzzle.
DING.
The main elevator doors opened.
Burnin' walked out, carrying a cardboard tray with five iced coffees. Kido, Onima, and Uma Uma followed right behind her.
They didn't look like they had just come back from a high-stakes patrol. They looked like they were returning from a lunch break.
"I am so bored," Burnin' announced to the room.
THUD.
She dropped the drink tray on Haruka's desk and grabbed a cup, stabbing a straw through the plastic lid. "We just did a full sweep of the commercial and financial districts. Do you know what we fought? A guy who locked his keys in his running car. That's it."
"You're complaining about not getting sued?" Haruka asked, not looking up from her puzzle.
"Yes!" Burnin' groaned, leaning her back against a filing cabinet. "The street punks and villains are terrified. Nobody wants to start a fight anymore because they know how we operate now. I haven't punched anything substantial in a week."
"She's just mad because she didn't get to ignite anything today," Onima laughed, grabbing his own coffee.
SIIIP.
"But she's right. The local gangs are completely spooked by the Thermal Sinks."
Uma Uma scratched the side of his horse-like head, looking a bit embarrassed. "It's working, though. During that warehouse raid on Tuesday, the villain tried to throw a firebomb. I just stepped in front of it and absorbed the ambient heat. The bomb fizzled out before it even left his hand. He just gave up and sat on the floor."
"It's the Closed Circuit training," Kido said, pulling his tactical goggles down around his neck. "If they can't create chaos, they panic. When I threw up the Thermal Spiral to vent the smoke, they realized they couldn't even hide. It's completely changing how we handle the streets."
SLURP.
The sound of a straw hitting the bottom of an empty plastic cup came from the hallway.
Kaito Arisaka walked out of his corner office. He was wearing his usual dark suit, holding a tablet in one hand and his empty coffee cup in the other. He stopped near the group, his expression completely flat.
"You aren't paid to punch things, Kamiji-san," Kaito said.
"Kaito," Burnin' greeted. They didn't call him 'Manager' much anymore.
"Boredom means the system is working," Kaito continued, looking down at his tablet. "Zero public damage in six weeks. The city council just authorized a tax rebate for the agency because we haven't melted a single sidewalk or shattered a window since the first of the month. The plan is functioning exactly as designed."
A man in a sharp grey suit scurried over from the PR department on the other side of the floor.
He was holding a thin blue folder.
"Arisaka-san," the PR Lead said, bowing slightly. He looked at Kaito like the man was a saint. "I have the new media engagement numbers you asked for. And... just wanted to say thank you again. For last month. When the Boss kicked us out of the conference room, we thought we were getting fired. Whatever you said to him... it saved our department."
"I just gave him a better angle," Kaito said, taking the folder. "Keep tracking the online sentiment. Let me know if the numbers dip."
The PR lead bowed again and hurried back to his desk.
Burnin' looked around the room, checking to see who was listening.
She took a step closer to Kaito, lowering her voice to a harsh whisper.
"Speaking of the Boss..." Burnin' muttered, looking up at the ceiling as if Endeavor might burn a hole through the floorboards at any second. "Did you guys watch the new episode on Sunday?"
Hnn.
Onima snorted, covering his mouth to muffle the sound. "The breakfast scene?"
"Yes! The breakfast scene!" Burnin' whispered frantically. "He was wearing an apron. An apron. He was trying to ask his daughter about her university classes while flipping a pancake. I thought he was going to crush the spatula into dust. He looked so stiff!"
"I felt bad for the pancake," Kido chimed in, keeping his voice low. "But honestly... it's kind of working. The comments on the video feed were going crazy. People were calling him a 'trying dad'."
"It's just so weird," Uma Uma mumbled. "Seeing him up there shouting at us to push past our limits every tuesday training with Kaito, and then going home to watch him quietly eat cold soba on television."
With the topic shifted to the new episode of Keeping Up With the Todorokis, all the sidekicks in the room started gossiping.
"Yeah right"
"I agree"
"But still, Fuyumi is beautiful. She is a perfect wife material"
"If you want to be burn alive don't drag me"
"Don't worry, we're talking softly"
"...."
"...."
Kaito listened to them gossip, his face betraying nothing.
He flipped open the blue folder the PR lead had handed him.
The approval ratings were a straight line going up. Endeavor was slowly but steadily closing the gap on Best Jeanist.
The sidekicks didn't need to know the psychology behind it.
They didn't need to know that the awkwardness on the screen was a calculated snare.
"It's good for ratings," Kaito said simply, snapping the folder shut.
He looked at Haruka. "Keep the patrol rotations on the current algorithm. Don't deviate."
"You heading out?" Haruka asked, setting her pen down.
"I'm taking a some time out of the office in a few days," Kaito said.
He checked his watch. "I have some promises to collect from the Sky Egg concert. If Endeavor wants to change any patrol vectors, tell him he has to call me first. Though I doubt he will. He's too preoccupied with maintaining his new image."
"You're finally meeting with Present Mic?" Kido asked. "His agency has been calling the front desk twice a week trying to get a hold of you."
"Just consultations," Kaito replied.
_-_-_-_-_-_
Location: The Todoroki Estate – Dining Room
Date: Later That Evening | 07:00 PM
CLINK.
A pair of chopsticks tapped against a ceramic bowl.
The dining room wasn't just awkward tonight. It was crowded.
Three men from the Shoowaysha camera crew were backed into the corners of the room.
One held a heavy boom mic over the table. Another had a camera resting on his shoulder, the red recording light blinking steadily in the dim light.
Endeavor sat at the head of the table. He wore a dark blue button-down shirt instead of his hero costume.
He looked massive, taking up too much space in the traditional room.
He picked up a piece of fish with his chopsticks, ate it, and forced the corners of his mouth up. It looked like a grimace.
"The grilled fish is very good, Fuyumi," Endeavor said. His voice was deep.
Fuyumi flinched slightly at the sound of his voice, but she quickly caught herself.
She sat up straighter, forcing a bright smile to keep the atmosphere from collapsing.
"Thank you, Father. I got it fresh from the market today," Fuyumi said.
Endeavor nodded slowly.
He glanced at the camera lens for a fraction of a second, making sure they had the angle.
"And your university classes?" Endeavor asked.
He placed his chopsticks down neatly. "You mentioned last week that your teaching practicum was starting soon. Are you prepared?"
"...."
Fuyumi froze. Her eyes went wide. 'He actually remembered that?'
For a second, she forgot about the cameras. She forgot about the boom mic over her head.
"I... yes," Fuyumi stammered, her hands gripping her dress under the table. "It starts on Monday. I'll be observing a local elementary school. Just helping the homeroom teacher with the younger kids."
"They will be lucky to have you," Endeavor said.
He leaned forward slightly, trying to project a supportive tone. "You have always been patient, Fuyumi. You will make an excellent educator."
Fuyumi's breath hitched.
A real tear actually formed in the corner of her eye. She knew he was doing this for the ratings.
She knew the camera was the reason her father was sitting here instead of burning down a training dummy. But hearing those words out loud... it still hit her.
"Thank you, Father," Fuyumi whispered softly.
Creak.
Across the table, Natsuo gripped his chopsticks so hard his knuckles turned white.
He stared at his rice, his jaw clenched tight. He hated this. He hated seeing his sister get tricked by a fake smile and a camera crew.
Endeavor turned his head slowly, looking at his second son.
"Natsuo," Endeavor said. "How are your university classes?"
Natsuo stopped chewing. He didn't look up. "They're fine. Midterms are next week."
"Good. Focus on your studies," Endeavor replied.
He paused.
He knew the red light was blinking. The scene with Fuyumi was good, but he needed to push the 'family man' angle harder.
He needed to show the public he was fixing his mistakes.
"I know things have been difficult in this house," Endeavor said, his voice dropping into a solemn tone. "With your mother... and Toya. I am trying to reflect on the past. I want things to be better for us."
SLAM.
Natsuo slammed his hands flat onto the wooden table.
Rittle-rattle.
The bowls rattled.
Fuyumi flinched hard, dropping her chopsticks.
"Don't," Natsuo hissed. His head snapped up, glaring at his father. His face was red. "Don't say their names."
"Natsuo, please," Fuyumi begged, her voice shaking.
She looked nervously at the camera crew.
"No!" Natsuo yelled.
Screech.
His chair screeched against the floor as he stood up. "I'm sick of this! A whole month of this fake garbage! You put on a sweater, you compliment Fuyumi's cooking, and suddenly you want to talk about Mom? You want to talk about Toya?"
"...."
The camera crew froze.
The scene director, a skinny guy holding a clipboard, started sweating bullets.
This was getting way too real. He frantically pulled out his phone and texted Chitose.
["He's losing it. Do we stop filming?"]
Bzzt.
A second later, his phone buzzed.
[Chitose: Keep rolling. Do not cut. We can just edit it later.]
Gulp.
The director swallowed hard and gave the cameraman a shaky thumbs-up.
"If you acted like this from the start!" Natsuo screamed, pointing a finger right at Endeavor's face.
Tears of pure frustration were spilling down his cheeks. "If you actually cared, Toya wouldn't have burned and died! Mom wouldn't be locked in a hospital ward losing her mind! You're just doing this for the cameras! Stop acting like a father!"
"...."
At the far end of the table, Shoto had stopped eating. His mismatched eyes were locked on his father.
Clench.
His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were completely white under the table.
The mention of his mother always did that to him.
Endeavor sat completely still. He didn't erupt in flames.
The room didn't suddenly spike to a hundred degrees.
He just sat there, his massive hands resting on his thighs, listening to decades of hatred being screamed directly into his face.
Natsuo ran out of breath. He stood there, chest heaving. And then, the reality of what he had just done hit him.
'What have I done?'
He had just screamed at Endeavor. He braced himself and waited for the shouting.
"Are you finished?" Endeavor asked.
His voice was calm. Too calm.
"..."
Natsuo took a small step back, suddenly terrified.
"You are finally learning how to stand up and become a man," Endeavor said, looking directly into Natsuo's eyes. "I'm sorry."
"...."
Natsuo blinked.
His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. He looked like he had just been hit by a truck.
"As for your mother," Endeavor continued, his voice steady for the microphone. "I will take care of it. I can be the best husband there is. Don't worry, son."
Natsuo just stared at him, completely bewildered.
The anger was still there, but it was suffocated by sheer confusion.
The monster wasn't acting like a monster. It was terrifying in a completely different way.
Natsuo slowly sat back down, not knowing what to say.
Fuyumi let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, her hands trembling in her lap.
She wanted to say something to comfort Natsuo, but she was too stunned by her father's apology to speak.
Endeavor didn't miss a beat.
He turned his head toward the far end of the table, acting as if the screaming match had never happened.
"Shoto," Endeavor said.
Shoto glared at him, his fists still clenched.
"Your school reports are fine," Endeavor said. "But I have noticed you haven't used your left side in months. You are ignoring your fire."
"I don't need your fire," Shoto said coldly.
"We will see," Endeavor replied. He picked up his teacup. "I recently bought an abandoned industrial lot in the next ward. It is completely isolated. We will go there this weekend for your training. I have something new I want to show you."
Shoto didn't reply. He just grabbed his chopsticks and went back to his cold soba.
SLURP.
The dinner continued in a suffocating, thick tension. The only sound was the clinking of silverware.
Endeavor took a slow sip of his tea.
He shifted his eyes toward the corner of the room.
The cameraman physically flinched, taking a half-step back when Endeavor made eye contact with the lens.
Endeavor looked away.
Inside his chest, his pride was screaming. He had just let his son humiliate him on tape. He had just apologized.
But he remembered Kaito's logic in the conference room. He remembered the approval ratings jumping every time he swallowed his pride.
He thought of All Might. He thought of that massive, unreachable back he had chased for twenty years.
'If acting like a fool... if acting like a loving father and a devoted husband was the price to pay to become Number One... what was wrong with deceiving myself?
I would deceive my family... I would deceive the cameras... I would deceive the whole country if it meant I finally reached the top.'
He set his teacup down.
"The tea is good, Fuyumi," Endeavor said.
_-_-_-_-_-_
Location: Musutafu – City Streets
Date: Two Days After | 09:30 AM
STEP. STEP.
Kaito walked down the busy morning sidewalk, his hands in his pockets.
Right next to him, Kazuho Haneyama was practically skipping.
She was wearing a stylish jacket, her pink hair bouncing with every step.
"Hmmm~hnnn"
She had a pair of headphones around her neck, and she was quietly humming to herself.
It had been several weeks since the Sky Egg incident.
The massive tower was still closed off for safety inspections, but the concert hadn't been forgotten.
In fact, it had gone viral. Aside from the interruption at the end, the entire concert was a success.
The music from Hero X and the fight between the villain boss and the Nomus still stood out. For her, though, it didn't matter, since Kaito had made it all possible.
This time, the new track Kaito had composed and given to her in his free time also went viral.
"I still can't believe it," Kazuho said, pulling one of her headphones up to her ear. "The label called me this morning. "Dakara, Hitori ja nai" just broke into the top ten national charts. They're playing it everywhere."
"It's a good song," Kaito said simply. "And you have the voice for it."
"It's not just the voice," Kazuho said, her smile softening a bit. She looked down at the pavement as they walked. "The lyrics... 'Crying, struggling, I'll crawl my way back up'... it really hits home for me."
"...."
Kaito looked at her. He noticed the shift in her tone.
The usual bubbly pop-idol energy dropped away for a second, leaving something much more vulnerable.
"When I first started doing street performances," Kazuho continued, her voice quiet. "I was a mess. But the reason I even tried to be a hero, or an idol... was because of Koichi."
Kaito raised an eyebrow. "Koichi?"
Kazuho nodded. She gripped the strap of her bag tightly.
"A few years ago, before I met you guys, I fell into a river when I was still little," Kazuho said.
She let out a dry, self-deprecating laugh. "I was drowning. Nobody was helping. Then Koichi jumped in and pulled me out. He saved my life."
Kaito listened.
He knew Koichi was a good guy, but he hadn't heard this part of the story.
"The thing is," Kazuho said, her voice cracking slightly. "It was the morning of the Hero Entrance Exam. Koichi missed it. He missed his entire chance to go to the hero school because he stopped to save me. And the worst part? When I finally saw him again on the streets... he didn't even recognize me. He didn't know I was the girl he saved."
"...."
Kaito stopped walking. He looked at her, genuinely stunned.
He knew Koichi was bummed about missing being a hero, but the guy had never once mentioned why.
"Did you tell him?" Kaito asked.
Kazuho shook her head, looking at her shoes.
"No. I haven't thought about how to say it. I feel incredibly guilty."
Kaito put a hand on her shoulder.
The street noise faded into the background for a second.
"Koichi doesn't care about the past," Kaito said. His voice was firm, but supportive. "If you ask him right now if he regrets jumping in that river, he'll say no. He's a hero because he saves people, not because of a piece of paper. Tell him when you're ready, Kazuho. He won't be mad."
Kazuho looked up at him. Her eyes were a little watery, but she smiled and gave a sharp nod.
"Yeah. You're right," she said, wiping her eye quickly.
HUUUF.
She took a deep breath, instantly switching her idol persona back on. "Anyway! We can't be late! The listeners are waiting!"
_-_-_-_
Location: Put Your Hands Up Radio – Main Studio
Time: 10:00 AM
BAM.
The heavy soundproof door swung open.
"YEAAAAH! THERE THEY ARE!"
Present Mic was standing in the middle of the broadcasting room, holding a coffee mug and wearing his signature orange glasses and a leather jacket.
The studio was packed with audio mixing boards, microphones, and sound engineers running around with clipboards.
Present Mic didn't have a traditional hero agency. He had a radio station. This was his fortress.
"The Golden Manager and my favorite idol!" Hizashi Yamada shouted, pointing finger guns at them. "Welcome to the hub, listeners! We are going live in five minutes!"
"Thanks for having me, Present Mic!" Kazuho beamed, bowing politely to the staff.
"Are you kidding? You're the hottest track on the airwaves right now!" Hizashi laughed, slapping Kaito on the back hard enough to make him stumble a step. "And you! I heard from Pop Step that you composed the song! Didn't know you had a musical side, Arisaka!"
"It was just a hobby," Kaito said, adjusting his jacket. "I'm just here to watch."
"Then you're one hell of a guy."
BEEP.
"We're on in thirty seconds, Mic!" the sound engineer called out from behind the glass.
"Alright, Pop Step, get in the booth!" Mic said, grabbing his massive over-ear headphones.
Kaito took a seat on a stool next to the producer's desk.
He watched through the soundproof glass as Mic and Kazuho settled in front of the microphones.
The "ON AIR" sign flashed red.
"HEEEEY LISTENERS!" Mic's voice boomed through the studio monitors, carrying that infectious, high-voltage energy. "We've got a special treat for you this morning! Straight from the Sky Egg, the girl who refuses to stand alone... POP STEP!"
Kazuho leaned into the mic, winking. "Hey everyone! Thanks for tuning in!"
The sound engineer hit a button, and the upbeat, driving intro of "Dakara, Hitori ja nai" started playing over the monitors.
Mic was hyping up the track in the background, adding his own vocal scratches.
Kazuho caught the beat perfectly, her voice ringing clear and strong through the studio.
Kazuho sang live, smiling at the glass.
Naite naite naite mogaite
Nando datte norikoete ikou
Naite naite naite mogaite
Mou... Hitori ja nai kara !
[Cry, cry, cry, keep struggling!
Again and again, let's overcome!
Cry, cry, cry, keep struggling!
I'm not alone... not anymore!]
Kaito watched her perform. The guilt she had talked about on the street was completely gone.
She was pouring everything into the mic. It was a flawless live collaboration.
_-_-_-_-_
Location: Station Breakroom
Time: 11:00 AM
SLAP.
Present Mic slapped a thick, heavy white envelope onto the breakroom table.
"There it is, my man!" Mic announced, pulling up a chair. "My consultation fee!"
Kaito sat across from him.
A few of the station's producers and sound technicians were hovering nearby, holding notepads, eager to hear what the famous 'Golden Manager' had to say.
Kaito looked at the envelope. He pushed it back across the table with one finger.
"I told you, Yamada-san," Kaito said flatly. "It was a promise. I don't need your money. Put that away before someone thinks we're doing an illegal deal."
"Hahaha"
Mic laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. He slipped the envelope into his jacket. "Alright, alright. I tried. So, hit me. What's the big plan for the Voice Hero? You want me to buy bigger speakers? Upgrade my directional collar?"
"Neither," Kaito said.
SIP.
He took a sip of the black coffee a staff member had handed him. "Your raw power is fine. Your problem is that you treat your quirk like a blunt instrument. You are just a living megaphone."
Mic blinked. "Hey, my Voice gets the job done!"
"It causes collateral damage and bursts eardrums," Kaito corrected. "You need to master the physics of sound, not just the volume. Have you ever tried Infrasound?"
"Infra-what?" Mic tilted his head.
"Frequencies below human hearing," Kaito explained, tapping the table. "If you shift your pitch down, you won't break windows. But the low-frequency vibrations will cause extreme nausea, vertigo, and panic in anyone caught in the radius. You can incapacitate an entire gang of villains without them ever hearing a sound. It's a silent takedown."
One of the sound engineers gasped quietly, scribbling frantically on his notepad. "That... that actually checks out. If he modulates his vocal cords..."
"Exactly," Kaito said, pointing at the engineer. "And go the other way. Ultrasound. High-frequency pitches. You can use echolocation to track villains moving inside buildings without having to kick the door down."
"...."
Mic stared at his hands, completely amazed. "I... I never thought about using it like that."
"And your biggest weakness," Kaito continued. "Is underground fighting. Your sound waves get blocked by dense dirt and concrete."
"Yeah, that always messes me up," Mic admitted.
"Seismic Transmission," Kaito said. "Put your hands and mouth against the ground. Don't yell into the air. Yell into the concrete. Vibrate the earth itself. The shockwaves will travel through the ground and hit the villains from below."
"Holy crap," the producer muttered, staring at Kaito. "We could build support items for that. Resonance tuning gloves."
"Do it," Kaito told the producer. "And build him Remote Sound Drones. Small, flying speakers he can link to his mic. He can throw his voice to misdirect villains, or attack from four different angles at once."
Mic was leaning over the table now, grinning so wide his cheeks looked like they hurt. "Arisaka, you're a mad scientist. This is incredible."
"I'm not done," Kaito said, taking another sip of coffee. He looked around the room. "The tech is for your hero work. Now let's fix the radio station."
"Fix it?" Mic asked, looking around his beloved breakroom. "What's wrong with the station? We have millions of listeners!"
"That's exactly the point," Kaito said bluntly. "You have millions of listeners across Japan tuning in every single night. And you treat it like an entertainment gig. It shouldn't be."
"What should it be?" Mic asked.
"A civilian intelligence network," Kaito stated.
The room went dead silent.
"You're an underground hero who works in the light, Yamada-san," Kaito explained, setting his cup down. "You want to find villains faster? Weaponize your fanbase."
"...."
"Weaponize the listeners?" Mic asked, his jaw dropping slightly.
"Start a segment on your show called 'Late Night Traffic Reports'," Kaito said. "Tell your listeners to call in if they see a 'roadblock' or a 'pothole.' Use coded language. If a civilian sees a shady trigger drug deal in an alley, they don't call the police and risk getting involved. They call Put Your Hands Up Radio and report a 'traffic jam on 4th street'."
The producer's eyes lit up. "We have the switchboards for that! We take hundreds of calls a night!"
"Exactly," Kaito said, looking at the producer. "Your operators filter the calls. They decode the 'traffic' problems, and you send the real coordinates straight to the police or your hero contacts. You don't need to hire sidekicks to patrol the streets. You already have thousands of delivery drivers, insomniacs, and night-shift workers listening to your voice. Let them be your eyes."
Mic slumped back in his chair.
He looked at Kaito, then at his producers, then back at Kaito.
"Oh my god," Mic whispered.
BAAAM.
He slammed his hands on the table again, but this time it wasn't a joke.
He was vibrating with excitement. "That's brilliant! It engages the listeners, it keeps the streets safe, and it gives us real-time intel! We'd be the biggest information hub in the country!"
"It's just logistics," Kaito said, standing up from his chair. He brushed a bit of lint off his suit. "Call your station manager today. Have the tip line set up and the codes broadcasted by Friday night."
The sound engineers and producers were already arguing excitedly, drawing up plans on their clipboards.
Present Mic stood up, looking at Kaito with a completely new level of respect.
"Golden Manager," Mic said, shaking his head in disbelief. "They weren't kidding. You really do see the whole board."
"I just read the map," Kaito said.
_-_-_-_-_
Location: Abandoned Industrial Lot – Ward 4
Date: The Weekend | 02:00 PM
CRACK.
A massive wave of jagged ice erupted from the concrete floor, tearing through the empty warehouse.
SMASH.
Endeavor didn't dodge.
He stepped right into the center of the glacier, shattering it with a single, brutal swing of his forearm.
CRACK-Boom.
The ice exploded into a cloud of freezing mist.
Shoto was already moving.
Swissh.
He slid through the fog on a trail of frost, aiming a heavy kick right at his father's ribs.
Endeavor caught the twelve-year-old's leg with one hand.
He twisted his hip and threw a quick, blunt punch straight into Shoto's left shoulder, on his weak side.
Baam.
THUD.
Shoto hit the concrete and rolled, sliding a few feet before digging his fingers into the floor to stop himself.
"Uggh!"
HUUF-puff.
He was panting hard, sweat dripping down his chin.
"Your stance is too wide," Endeavor said. He stood completely still, his flames banked low.
"You are relying entirely on the volume of your ice. You're overextending. If you fight a villain who can break through that first wave, your left side is completely exposed. Get up."
"...."
Shoto gritted his teeth. He pushed himself off the floor.
A month and a half ago, a sparring session like this would have ended with Shoto vomiting from exhaustion while Endeavor screamed at him to stand back up. The training used to be an intense physical exertion and quirk usage.
But today... it was an actual spar.
Endeavor was letting Shoto attack at full strength.
He was actually teaching him how to fight, pointing out flaws in his footwork instead of just overpowering him with raw heat.
"Again," Endeavor commanded. "And this time, use your left side. Balance the temperature. You're slowing your own body down with the frostbite."
Shoto glared at him. His right foot slammed into the ground.
WHOOSH.
Another massive pillar of ice shot forward. No fire. Just a stubborn, freezing rejection.
Endeavor shattered the ice again, knocking the chunks away with the back of his hand. He clenched his jaw.
'This kid!' A flare of deep irritation sparked in his chest. He wanted to yell. He wanted to force the boy to ignite.
But he stopped.
He didn't know why, but the month of sitting at that dining table and forcing a calm voice for the cameras... it was bleeding into reality.
The act was becoming a habit, and he didn't realize it.
Sigh.
He let out a long, frustrated breath and crossed his arms.
"You are being foolish, Shoto," Endeavor said, his tone heavy but controlled. "You are my masterpiece. You have the perfect quirk. If you use both halves, you will surpass me. You will surpass All Might. You will stand at the absolute pinnacle of this country and nobody will be able to touch you."
Shoto slowly stood up straight. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. His mismatched eyes looked at his father with absolute, freezing indifference.
"Can you defeat Hero X, then?" Shoto asked.
"...."
The warehouse went dead silent.
Endeavor froze.
The words hit him like a physical blow. Hero X. The absolute anomaly.
The man who had humiliated the entire hero rankings. Endeavor opened his mouth, but he didn't have an answer.
"HAHAHAHA"
A dry, scratchy laugh echoed from the steel rafters above them.
Endeavor's head snapped up. His flames flared instantly, illuminating the dark corners of the ceiling.
A man dropped down from the catwalk, landing lightly on the concrete about thirty feet away.
Thump.
He was wearing a sharp blue suit and a mask that covered the lower half of his face.
"The kid has a point," the masked man said.
His voice was raspy, laced with a bitter, sarcastic edge. "I watched that fake broadcast of yours. Twice, actually. The sweater was a nice touch. But you're still as bad as ever, Endeavor. All that talk about surpassing everyone, and you're getting shut down by a middle schooler."
Endeavor's eyes narrowed.
He didn't hesitate.
His parental instincts kicked in automatically. He stepped aggressively in front of Shoto, shielding the boy with his massive frame.
"Stay back, Shoto," Endeavor ordered, his voice dropping into a dangerous, lethal register.
He glared at the intruder. "This is private property. Who are you?"
After his father's words, Shoto quickly put some distance between them, retreating behind Endeavor.
But as he stared at the masked man in the black suit.
A weird chill crept up Shoto's spine.
He didn't know the man, but the way he stood, the way he looked at Endeavor... it felt deeply familiar.
'Do I know him?'
"The kid is right, you know," the masked man continued, ignoring Endeavor's threat.
He casually stretched his neck. "Hero X is a wall you can't climb. Nobody is surpassing that guy. Not now, and definitely not in the future. Your 'masterpiece' is a waste of time."
Click-clack.
The man took a few steps forward.
The air around him started to shimmer with an unnatural, terrifying heat.
"Take my years of frustration, Endeavor," the man said, dropping the sarcasm. His voice sounded hollow now. Angry and broken. "Let's see if you remember this heat."
Flicker-bzzzt.
Endeavor raised his fists, his orange flames roaring to life.
"I don't even know who you are!?" Endeavor shouted.
"...."
The words echoed in the warehouse.
The masked man stopped.
SIIZZLE. FIIZZLE.
SIIZZLE. FIIZZLE.
His shoulders tensed. A sickeningly bright, blue light began to leak from his hands.
The air in the room instantly went from freezing to boiling.
Hissssss.
The ice on the floor began to hiss and melt into steam.
"Of course you don't," the man snarled, his voice cracking with pure, unhinged rage.
FWOOSH.
He threw a punch into the air. A massive, concentrated blast of blue fire shot across the warehouse, screaming straight toward Endeavor.
"AZURE FIRE FIST!" the man screamed.
_-_-_-_-_
[Author's Note]
Hey everyone! Sorry if this one took a bit. I recently decided to start working out to get physically fit, which completely backfired because now my entire body is in pain lol.
I actually tried to just close my eyes and take a quick nap before making a chapter, but I completely passed out 😂
.....
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patreon.com/Dr_Chad
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