Transcription

A short bald man wearing round sunglasses wandered through a disaster scene. A girl, a sophomore at Shiketsu, with white cat ears approached him. “Excuse me, sir! You can’t–”

“Please don’t notice me.” The man interrupted.

The girl’s eyes went blank like she’d walked into a room and forgotten what she’d come in for. The bald man ignored her and approached a corpse lying in a crater. This was one of Shiketsu’s teachers, Hijack they called him. He frowned. This had come sooner than he’d expected. Maybe he’d have been prepared if he’d been told about Shihai’s death in a timely fashion…

“What a mess.”

Saraki walked away. It didn’t take a genius to see where this would end. He had much to do.

---

Five Months Later

A familiar boy’s fingers flew across his keyboard. A black binder lay next to him, his memories recorded on its pages. A black dragon perched on Christopher’s shoulder. She watched as her boy transcribed his life onto a computer.

Christopher sighed as he finished transcribing the open page. He’d been at this for hours and his eyes were getting heavy. Still, he had to finish today. Procrastination was no longer an option, he’d be moving into the dorms tomorrow. He reached over and turned to the next page only to see the back cover of his binder staring at him.

“Huh.” Christopher hadn’t realized he was so close to being finished. He leaned back with a yawn. He reached his hands over his head feeling his back pop with the motion. He felt relaxed. Things had been going well for the boy. Even as the world burned around him, life seemed to improve. Saraki’s menace had been stymied somewhat by his mentors Rosethorn and Smokin’ Sexy escorting him to those appointments. Desolator hadn’t made a move since his attempt on Satori. Faith had come back. His friends were around again. He was… almost happy.

Christopher leaned forward and closed the binder. The spine bore a white tape label reading ‘FETeCO. ' The acronym stood for ‘Friend, Emitter, Telepathy, Classmate, Often.’ Imai’s binder. Christopher’s eyes wandered to the shelf filled with black binders.

One binder, labeled LECoCN, stood at the top left of the shelf. Another, labeled IECoCP, was right next to it. Third from the left was ‘IMBeCX.’ Faith’s, Inigo’s, and Kaylee’s binders respectively. Those were the first Christopher had transcribed. He probably could’ve skipped Kaylee’s, truth be told. He could skip any of the mutants, he didn’t need to worry about forgetting them. Yet… it hadn’t felt right. He couldn’t leave Kaylee’s binder aside while he transcribed the rest of his life. It hadn’t felt right to set ‘IMLmCX,’ Orochi’s aside either. Nor had he ignored ‘FMLmCX,’ Noah’s. They were friends too, was it right to put less work into their binders just because he wouldn’t forget them? It’d never felt right to him.

Christopher traced his gaze down the rows of binders. After passing over AEAfCR, FTCcCO, MEBeTR, MEPrTR, CENwCN, and a few dozen other binders he’d already transcribed, he realized he was almost done. A solid week's worth of calling in sick to Ryuusei had paid off. There was only one left. One that wouldn’t take long, but one he wondered if he should skip.

AXXCN stared at Christopher menacingly from the bottom right of his shelf. Next to it was an empty space where Imai’s binder had rested. It was a binder that had never seen much activity, even before the events of the last trimester.

It was Sandatsu’s. He was the reason Shiketsu was erecting dormitories. He was the one who’d killed a student and assaulted a teacher on school grounds. He was the reason Christopher had had to devote so much time to holding Inigo together these last 3 months.

Christopher wouldn’t mind forgetting the villain... Hitomi leaped from the back of his chair and grabbed Imai’s binder from his desk. Carrying it back to the shelf, Hitomi slotted Imai’s binder into place and returned with Sandatsu’s.

Christopher took the binder from the little black dragon with a frown. He set it on the desk. When he opened the binder he was greeted by a jumble of random characters that read thusly:

‘V qba’g xabj jung uvf qbrf! V pbcvrq vg naq abguvat unccrarq. Ur unf bar V’z fher bs vg. V sryg gur zveebe naljnl.’

It was a simple substitution cipher. Not exactly secure, but it was easy for Christopher to read and it made him feel better. It read:

‘I don’t know what his does! I copied it and nothing happened. He has one I’m sure of it. I felt the mirror anyway.’

As it turned out, no one knew what Sandatsu’s quirk was. Christopher had once been told it was a body manipulation quirk. He should’ve known that to be a lie when he’d fought Sandatsu during the tournament. The image of the last moments of their battle flashed in his mind.

Christopher had woken after the fight believing he’d dreamed the scene. A body manipulation quirk couldn’t function if the flesh was melted from bones, there had to be material to manipulate. The last three months had proven it’d been no hallucination. Sandatsu wasn’t a body manipulation quirk user. He… Christopher didn’t know what he was. He never had. As Christopher transcribed the pages of Sandatsu’s binder, he felt like an idiot for never taking action.

‘Inigo with Sandatsu, couldn’t hang out.’

‘Sandatsu walked me home from school per my agreement with Rosethorn. He rambled about how dog breeds affect flavor. Requesting he be taken off my escort rotation first thing in the morning.’

‘Sandatsu drilled Hijack-sensei on when it was legally acceptable to kill a villain. I think I was the only one who got freaked out by how interested he was. Maybe it’s just me? Maybe I’m still upset by the dog thing?’

‘Imai told me Sandatsu was with Mio when he and Ashleigh went to talk to her. He asked why the kid’s meal wasn’t made with kids. Imai thought he was joking. Remembering the dog conversation... I’m not so sure. I feel sick.’

‘Inigo tried to get me to hang out with him today. He said he, Sandatsu, Hifumi, and Bobby were going to karaoke. Thank God I had a date with Faith planned. I wish Inigo would stop trying to get me to hang out with his other friends.’

Christopher frowned. After he befriended Hifumi and Bobby during the internship, he’d been scared they’d join Inigo in trying to drag him to their ‘boy’s’ nights. He couldn’t deny that he liked the three he’d befriended. It’d be weird to refuse an invitation just because he didn’t like their fourth. When that hadn’t been a concern, when Sandatsu had disappeared, before he’d come out as a villain… well Christopher could see his own thoughts written in ink.

‘Sandatsu missing. Karaoke averted.’

That thought seemed extraordinarily callous at the time. It’d been Christopher’s attempt at dark humor. He’d tried to express his shameful relief and overwhelming worry in as few words as possible. Sandatsu had been missing. He could’ve been injured, captured, or worse. If only the worse had been true….

Hitomi, seeing that his hands had stopped typing, chirped. Christopher shook his head. She was right, he needed to be done before move-in day tomorrow.

Christopher made fast progress transcribing the rest of the binder. Sandatsu’s binder was shorter than the others by far. He had always avoided him, so what few memories he’d already recorded were among the only ones worth recording. He closed Sandatsu’s entry by calling him what he is:

‘Villain.’

---

Kyoto has changed over the last six months. The city swarms with villains and heroes in an ever-escalating war for dominance. The Night Parade consolidates territory. The Five enjoys their contracts. The Wild Hunt strikes out seemingly at random to fuel their master’s ever-growing desire for power. A new cult slithers its way into the city’s life seeking the destruction of demons and the resurrection of gods.

But one man’s demon is another’s god.

An ancient man with a young face spoke to a young man with an ageless face. They stood on top of a roof, looking over a city that served as their hunting ground. They met often like this, discussing whatever concerns the young man had. The ancient was wise in the ways of a predator and the young man was strong. They had much to discuss.

“I spoke with someone interesting recently.” Sandatsu Owari began.

Desolator quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Do you know someone named Dr. Saraki?”

“We’ve crossed paths.”

“I visited his office earlier this week. His quirk is kind of awesome.”

“He used it on you?”

“Yeah. I was gonna toss some papers on his desk and he told me to be careful with them. I didn’t feel… forced. It was ‘Wow, this is the most reasonable request I’ve ever heard I can’t believe I was even THINKING of doing something different.’ I don’t think anyone else would’ve noticed he’d used a quirk.”

“They never do,” Desolator confirmed. “I’m surprised you didn’t take it, his quirk I mean.”

Sandatsu leaned over the rail. “I thought about it, but wouldn’t a quirk like that make things easy? If I could just go around saying ‘please kill yourself,’ I don’t think I’d ever have a good fight again.”

“A fair point.” Desolator acknowledged. He didn’t think Saraki could do something quite so drastic, but Sandatsu probably could.

“Maybe I should put him to work for me.”

“If you don’t want his quirk, I’d keep interactions with him to a minimum.”

“Why? He dangerous?”

“Extremely.”

“He didn’t seem dangerous. I felt like I could’ve killed him any time.”

“Not that sort of dangerous Owari.”

“Oh?”

“He’s an unpredictable man and his quirk makes others equally unpredictable.”

“You don’t think I could keep him in line?”

“Remember to choose your targets.” Desolator lectured. “Threats of violence only go so far against a man like Saraki. Don’t misunderstand me, he wants to live, but only so he can continue pursuing his obsession. The second his obsession runs counter to your interests–”

“...I’ll have no control over him, and he can turn others against me the second I lose him.”

Desolator let out a huff of agreement. “You might have better luck than most. You could dangle your own quirk in front of him like a carrot. However, there’s a limit to how much you could tease him before he tries to force matters.”

“Curious…”

“Hmm?”

“If he’s so uncontrollable why does the government work with him?”

Desolator shrugged. “It’s not an exciting answer.”

“Indulge me.”

“He’s a petty man with petty ambitions. The powers that be judge his abuses worth absorbing when balanced against the services he provides.”

“What exactly does he do for them?”

“He prevents you.”

Sandatsu laughed. Desolator didn’t.

“The point of the QRS is to monitor potential Disasters, then treat or neutralize them.”

“Must be shit at his job.”

“On the contrary. The only Disasters who do mature under Saraki’s watch, either have quirks that developed well past the point anyone could’ve predicted.” He glanced at Sandatsu. “Or, were intentionally kept from him.”

“My mom…”

“Likely.”

Sandatsu was silent. Desolator didn’t pry. He knew firsthand how complicated the feelings of a son towards his abusive parent could be. He knew the strange cocktail of emotions that arose from killing them, that queer, addictive, mix of exultation and regret. He didn’t think there was a man alive who’d tasted that rush and was able to stop killing again. They were, both of them, damned to forever chase that flavor.

They would never find it again. It was something that could only ever be felt once.

“You have a lot of experience with Disasters?” Sandatsu asked suddenly.

Desolator nodded, unperturbed by the non sequitur. The memory of how Sandatu felt when he killed his mother had bothered him, understandable, it was impossible to name all the feelings that arose from parricide. Even after 70 years, Desolator couldn’t name every emotion that snaked through his veins as he heard his father’s death rattle, as he saw the light leave his tormentor’s eyes. It was both the happiest memory of his life and the most horrifying. He could still feel the man’s throat. He could feel his thumbs dig into his father’s carotid, and the warm blood trickling down his arms as his first victim fought for his life.

There were many days Desolator spent contemplating the moment his father stopped struggling. What had he felt? It was hard to appreciate the totality of the moment even at his advanced age. For Sandatsu it was still so raw and new, he probably couldn’t contemplate it long. He wasn’t ready to confront the feelings beyond joy and anger. The fear, the shock, and… the regret. It was so strange for a predator to feel guilt. It made you feel weak the first time you acknowledged it. Desolator remembered when he first realized that he regretted killing his father, it was one of the most traumatic moments of his life.

Overcoming that regret was one of the last hurdles he’d faced on his path to becoming what he is.

“I’ve fought twelve Disasters in my lifetime,” Desolator answered, indulging the young man’s non sequitur. “I’ve met somewhere around 20.”

“…” The look on Sandatsu’s face was… complicated.

“You have a question?” Desolator prompted.

“Yeah… it’s embarrassing to ask though…”

“No one will ever hear our conversation.” Desolator offered as if Sandatsu would doubt the confidentiality of their meetings. “And I’m too old to judge you.”

Sandatsu closed his eyes as if he were gathering the courage to ask what he wanted to ask.

“… where do I compare?”

Desolator nearly smiled. So that was all? ‘How strong am I?’ It was an immature question, asked by a mind still trying to grasp whether battles were decided by anything except strength. It was a question that reminded Desolator that, despite his strength, Owari was still a child.

“Top 5.”

“Really?” Sandatsu seemed surprised, not that he was placed high, but that others compared to him.

Desolator nodded.

“Who?!” Sandatsu was excited. He’d been looking for a good fight, a fight where he could REALLY push himself, unfortunately… Desolator was about to burst that bubble.

“I’m afraid they’re all out of reach.”

“Huh?”

“Dead.” Desolator lied.

“Oh… really? None of them are around?”

“Yes, but to indulge you, Sun Man and Death were the two strongest I’ve ever met before you.”

“Bobby’s dad?”

“Yes, you never met his father, unfortunately. He was more than worthy of being called ‘the strongest.’ He and I fought numerous times. I was always able to slip away, sometimes I even achieved my objective despite him, but he was one of the two most dangerous enemies I ever fought.”

“Death, meanwhile, had a quirk comparable to your own. He could absorb the life force of everything around him to empower himself. The only one able to stand against him was… well, Sun Man.”

“You fought Death?”

“No.”

“You said Sun Man was ‘one of the two most dangerous…’”

Desolator regretted saying that. He didn’t want to talk about her. “Her name was Miracle.”

“Never heard of her.”

“She never made a name for herself internationally, but she was… ridiculous.” Desolator couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice as he remembered his feelings on taking that hit. If he’d had his way Jabberwocky and Bicorn would still be free and Cmdr. Slaughter would still exist.

“Though keep in mind,” Desolator changed the subject quickly. “I’m not omniscient. I never fought Kraftwerk as an example, though he was supposedly as strong as Sun Man.”

“Hmmm,” Sandatsu seemed to contemplate his words before a realization struck him.

“You said I was Top 5 among those you encountered right?”

“I did.”

“You’re counting me, but that brings you to four. Sun Man, Death, Miracle, and Me. Who’s five?”

“No one.” Desolator smiled teasingly. “Like many, I prefer to give odd numbers when I rank.”

Sandatsu studied him for a moment, then laughed. “Fair enough.”

Desolator didn’t like lying to an employer, especially not when it fell inside the purview of his contract. He could say it was because he feared for his old comrade. That he feared for her safety, but he knew she’d welcome death. His real reason for lying was the height of vanity.

He didn’t want to tempt Sandatsu with that quirk. He didn’t want Sandatsu to go to Gehenna, fight its guards, and risk capture. He didn’t want Sandatsu to risk his life or freedom for a quirk he probably couldn’t use. Only a good person could use THAT quirk.

---

Five Months Earlier

Dr. Saraki dialed a number on his old rotary phone. He listened as the phone chirped and burped, dragging him across the Pacific Ocean. Eventually, the old phone’s signal managed to limp its way to America and made the right line ring.

RING

RING

RIN– click

A woman’s voice answered. A familiar and harsh voice. The voice of someone who knew him well and didn’t like him one bit. <“What do you want Saraki?”>

<“Ms. Curie!”> Saraki thrummed in perfect english. He never knew what he did to upset the woman so much, but she’d never liked him. <“Is Slow available?”>

<“GRANDPA Slow is–”>

<“Please save the ‘grandpa’ shit for people who need artificial familiarity.”> She probably didn’t like him because he got annoyed whenever she tried to enforce Slow’s branding. She and her family had worked hard to ensure the world saw the snail-kaiju as a benign force. Somehow, they’d settled on branding him the tottering old grandfather doing his best to look after foolish humans. It gave the 40-ton monster an air of humanity, perhaps elevated to a bit of a religious figure for some Americans; they did have a tendency to credit him with saving the world a thousand times or some such nonsense. Saraki didn’t care for it. He didn’t need to relate to the thing. He just needed to talk to it.

Curie huffed. <“Grandpa Slow….”> She repeated stubbornly.

<“Grandpa Slow.”> Saraki acquiesced.

<“Is awake and listening.”> Curie sounded anxious as she finished that sentence. She’d rather do anything other than interpret for the snail, but it didn’t matter. She was the only one who could. Saraki, not for the first time, wondered just how much it hurt.

<“Please ask him if he ever treated one Christopher Cain.”>

Curie paused. Saraki could hear her teeth grind as she resumed contact. For a moment he envied her. He wished he could have a direct line to Slow.

<“You know better than that.”>

In other words, he wouldn’t say. Just as well, Saraki had thrown that question in there just to warm Curie up. Before he could ask another question Slow – through Curie – interrupted him.

<“Please don’t toy with my interpreter. What is it you actually wanted?”> Curie couldn’t keep the venom out of her voice as she reported Slow’s latest thoughts. Saraki smiled. He pitied Slow. It must be torture to filter his thoughts through a clumsy microphone like Curie.

<“To pass on a warning.”>

<“Oh?”>

<“You might want to break your connection with Curie as I say this last.”>

<“That warning is uncharacteristically generous of you Saraki. You have my thanks and Curie’s as well.”> Curie’s voice trembled as she reported Slow’s words. If it was a complex question… well… Saraki didn’t have to be this nice. He could’ve let Slow be caught off guard. He could’ve made him THINK while connected to Curie, but her screams hurt his ears.

<“It is not only possible but likely that Japan will request your cooperation in neutralizing Shihai’s son.”>

Curie hissed sharply then let loose a sigh of relief. Slow hadn’t quite been quick enough breaking the connection apparently.

<“… thank you.”> Curie repeated.

<“Hrm, just remember I didn’t have to.”> Saraki sneered. He could feel Curie shudder.

Curie hissed. The connection was re-established. Quicker than Saraki expected. < “You want Bicorn.”>

Saraki smiled. < “I do.”> She was the only person alive with a quirk…

<“I refuse.”>

Saraki sighed. Of course, he did. Slow was protective of his ‘patients.’ <“In that case, I happen to have a mimic who–”>

<“Putting Cain against Owari would also be a catastrophic error.”> Slow interrupted.

Saraki paused. Slow continued.

<“That Owari didn’t try to devour Mirror Maker before now has been a blessing. Do not tempt him with it.”>

<“…”>

<“Focus on treating Christopher, but you can’t let – Grandpa please, it’s too much.”> Curie mewled.

Saraki hummed as he waited for Curie to get her shit together. So Slow DID treat Cain… but couldn’t fix him. Saraki's face split into a demonic grin. He knew it was Broken Quirk Syndrome! Slow wouldn’t have known what diagnosis to give Cain at the time. After all, Saraki and Monosuke would only come up with the broken quirk hypothesis a few years after Hitomi brought Cain to the kaiju and, despite the Curies’ pretenses to the contrary, Slow was just as dependent on the free exchange of ideas as any other scientist.

Curie breathed heavily as Slow ordered his thoughts into a comprehensible, for her meager mind, pattern. <“The effect of memory erasure in Owari would be disastrous.”>

<“Oh?”> So THAT was why Slow didn’t want to give him Bicorn. It wasn’t just to protect his ‘patient.’ It was to keep memory erasure from Owari. That begged a question.

<“Why?”>

<“… Grandpa I don’t understand… Ah! No!”> Curie began to tremble in pain, a pain Saraki could feel even through the phone. He wished Curie was smarter. He needed to know what Slow was actually thinking. < “Please...”> Curie gasped as Slow broke the connection. Saraki sighed bitterly. Whatever the explanation, it was too complex for Curie. Maybe he should find a way to give himself a telepathy quirk, though if he did that the range would be a problem. He’d have to go to the US and last he checked he was persona non grata over there.

Curie sighed as the connection was re-established. <“Don’t apologize, I’m sorry. Yes, I’m okay. I’ll tell him. Saraki?”>

<“I’m still here.”> As if he could hang up without hearing Slow’s explanation.

<“You can’t let the anomaly(?)–”> Curie seemed uncertain if that was the word Slow wanted her to use. It was probably the right word. There were precious few words to accurately describe a budding singularity like Sandatsu. <“–forget it was human.”>

<“OH!”> Saraki exclaimed. So that was it! Slow thought that any memory erasure introduced into Sandatsu’s increasingly frayed perception could cause a runaway effect. There was no telling what memories in the Jenga tower of Owari’s psyche made him hold onto the sliver of humanity that made him seek companionship, love, and belonging. It could be a bad memory, which Bicorn’s Sin Eater would use as fuel. Or it could be the memory of a person, which if he had Cain’s Mirror Maker would inevitably be forgotten. … did that mean Slow thought Owari’s development into a full-blown singularity was being arrested by lingering human desires?

A fascinating hypothesis, one that Saraki was tempted to test. However… he hesitated. He didn’t feel the need to test that like he usually did. He needed to treat Cain. He needed to talk to Slow. He didn’t really need to see if Owari was working through his humanity before he blew up. Temptation was an interesting feeling, one that Saraki was unaccustomed to.

< “I’ll take that under advisement.”> Saraki almost hung up, but… he had another question. <“Any ideas on how to treat Cain?”>

Curie’s immediate scream caused Saraki to hold the receiver away from his ear. He was reminded that he should’ve warned Slow he was about to ask a complicated question.

Oh. Well.