Night of the Reaper: Prologue
Imai sat beside Ashleigh on the steps of Shiketsu High, their shoulders brushing lightly. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the courtyard as students bustled around them.
Ashleigh sighed, her gaze dropping to her clasped hands. "It's... okay, I guess. Mio's back, but she mostly keeps to herself. It's not as bad as it used to be."
"I was worried things might get rough for you with her around again."
Ashleigh offered him a small smile. "Thanks. But really, it's fine. She's been locked in her room most of the time, doing who knows what. And when he's out, she's either being interviewed or questioned by the police, again. She even gets fanmail. Like, a lot of it. People sending her letters, gifts..."
Imai's eyes widened in disbelief. "Fanmail? Seriously? That's... messed up."
"And she makes me pick it up for her and deliver it to her room."
"Of course she does."
"Yeah," Ashleigh agreed, slightly bitter. "And what's worse is that she eats it up. Acts like she deserves it."
"What, you think she doesn't?"
Ashleigh hesitated, her gaze dropping to her lap. "Honestly, I don't know anymore. Part of me wants to believe she was a victim. But... deep down, I feel like there's this dissonance, you know? She feels so... unreachable? Like she's moved up in the world."
Imai nodded solemnly. "She's definitely reveling in the attention."
Satoru's heart raced like a drum in his chest as he sat in front of his computer. Once again, that man was lounging on his bed as if he owned the place, flipping through papers with an air of indifference. The mere sight of him sent shivers down Satoru's spine.
For what felt like the hundredth time, Satoru cursed his luck. Why did Sandatsu keep showing up in his room of all places? Was it some sick game to torment him? Was it some form of divine punishment? Did God hate short people that much?
Swallowing hard, Satoru forced himself to turn away from his computer screen, his mind racing as he searched for something to say. But as he opened his mouth to speak, his voice came out in a nervous stammer, the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "Uh, w-what are you reading?"
The moment the question left his lips, Satoru immediately regretted it. First, he screamed internally about the fact that the first thing he though about what he said was "cringe". Then, he cursed the fact that he should have kept his mouth shut. In fact, he should have called for help the moment he saw him in his room the first time.
Sandatsu glanced up from the papers, locking eyes with Satoru.
"Just some boring paperwork," he replied nonchalantly, flipping the papers shut and tossing them aside. "Nothing too exciting, I'm afraid."
Satoru let out a silent sigh of relief, but then the villain spoke once more. "Hey, are you fond of your neighborhood?"
Sandatsu's question caught Satoru off guard, sending a chill down his spine. What kin dof question was that? Was he autistic? Was his autism related to why he turned into a villain?
He fidgeted nervously, trying to come up with a nonchalant response while fighting back against the thoughts caused by him being terminally online. "Uh, yeah, I guess so," he mumbled.
Sandatsu simply acknowledged his answer with a casual "Is that so?" Satoru felt a wave of relief wash over him as Sandatsu excused himself and disappeared through a portal. He was probably safe for the day. He let out a shaky breath, which he swallowed up again when he realized the villain had left those papers there.
His hands trembled slightly as he reached out to pick up one of the sheets. What if this was some kind of trap? Wouldn't these papers count as evidence? Wouldn't him touching leave his fingerprints, incriminating him? Wasn't hanging out with a villain like that already pretty fucking incriminating?
But curiosity got the better of him, and Satoru couldn't resist the urge to take a closer look. He gingerly picked up the top sheet. It was a list of quirks from the official registry. He read the title scrawled across the top of the page. "Shopping list?" Satoru muttered to himself, furrowing his brow in confusion.
Chris leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as he regarded Imai with a skeptical expression. "So, let me get this straight. You want me to mirror Katsuragi's quirk, again?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Why though?"
"Because something's off! Kidnapped by that monster, and just escapes? And now she's enjoying fame like nothing happened?"
Chris raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. "Man, you're sounding a bit paranoid, don't you think?"
"Bro you know how she is. Do you really believe she'd act all heroic like that?"
Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, yeah, she's a bitch, but you need to chill out a bit."
Imai remained silent, jaw clenched. He knew how paranoid he sounded. Seeing him like this, Chris straightened up and laid a reassuring hand on Imai's shoulder. "Alright, but just this once. Don't want to be too intrussive with psychic quirks, do we?"
Imai's expression softened, and he offered a light smile. "Yeah. Thanks."
They moved through the bustling halls of Shiketsu High, their eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Mio. Finally, they spotted her from afar, surrounded by a group of classmates, her laughter ringing out as she chatted animatedly with them.
Chris sighed, his gaze focused on Mio as he prepared to use his quirk. "Let's just get this over with."
He activated his quirk, mirroring Mio's own ability, and delved into her memories.
Chris took a moment to collect his thoughts, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. "Well, it's a good sign that I'm not seeing any memories of her reading ours. That means she isn'tt aware of what we are doing."
Imai nodded. "That's one less thing to worry about."
But then Chris fell silent, his expression growing increasingly troubled. Imai glanced at him, concern etched on his face. "Chris, what's wrong?"
"Most of the memories from the time she spent kidnapped are... gone. Only bits and pieces remain, and they match what has been said and shown on the news."
The meeting room was filled with tension as several high-ranking officials from law enforcement and the current acting president of the Hero Public Safety Commission gathered around the polished mahogany table.
At the head of the table sat the acting president, President Hiroki Takayami. Seated across from him was Chief Inspector Tanaka, leading figure among the rest of the offcials.
"It's not just the increase in criminal activity that's concerning," the inspector remarked. "We need to address this shift in perception before it undermines the very fabric of society."
"We've collected these photos from evidence taken by police, including one from a woman arrested after stabbing a patrolling hero in the middle of Tokyo." Miyamoto gestured to the screen at the front of the room, where a series of photos were displayed. The picture Miyamoto had presented as the focus was a close-up of an armband, black with a bold streak of blue running through it. "This was worn by a woman arrested after stabbing a patrolling hero in the middle of Tokyo."
"Black with a blue streak," the acting president muttered.
"Perpetrators donning these colors have been caught in more and more altercations all across Japan." continued Tanaka. "It is most likely related to him."
Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by an urgent knock on the door.
"Enter," the acting president called out
A harried aide rushed into the room, their breath coming in ragged gasps as they tried to compose themselves. "Sirs, ma'am, we have a development of utmost importance. You need to see this."
The officials leaned forward, their curiosity piqued by the urgency in the aide's voice. The aide took a deep breath, their hands trembling slightly as they handed over a tablet. "Sandatsu Owari... he's been possibly sighted on Hokkaido."
They exchanged incredulous glances, their disbelief evident in their expressions. "Sandatsu Owari? Are you certain?" President i Takayami inquired, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.
The aide nodded. The officials crowded around the tablet, their eyes glued to the screen as they watched the footage. It was a grainy recording of an empty parking lot in front of a convenience store in a rural small town. And then, they saw it. A smoky silhouette briefly appeared on the screen, crossing between two portals. The frames where it was most visible had been enhanced as much as possible.
That hair. The piercing, swirly eyes.
How recent is this?" The President demanded.
The aide swallowed nervously. "This... this was from no more than 10 minutes ago,"
Chief Inspector Tanaka felt uneasy. He felt like this every time he saw the villain in the news. He couldn't shake the feeling that the monster was lookign straight at the camera.