Second First Try at Shiketsu
Victor Sigurd stomped his way through the underbrush. A low grumble escaped him, the lingering frustration from the damn tournament echoing in his mind. No one took his water inertia quirk seriously—all bark and no bite, they said.
His early morning hike towards the stream where he trained served as a sort of therapy, a way to vent the annoyance on the crunchy leaves beneath his boots.
As he neared the water's edge, the cold mist welcomed him like an old friend. Crouching by the stream, he shot a glare at the flowing water, as if it held the key to solving all his troubles.
In the stillness before dawn, irritation gripped him anew. Why couldn't they grasp the potential in water inertia? The question lingered as he stumbled upon the aftermath of a recent confrontation.
The scene was eerie, rocks stained with something that didn't belong in the tranquil woods. Blood.
Victor squinted through the darkness, and there, amid the shadows and debris, lay a person, unmoving.
The emergency services pulled off a miracle. The achievement of reviving Hiro from a clinically dead state was, by all accounts, a marvel facilitated by the blend of potent regenerative drugs within his body. However, those same drugs were also strong enough to mess with regular treatment, and, to keep his condition stable he had been put into a coma.
Suzuki Nene treaded lightly into Hiro's hospital room, cradling a small handmade plushie in her hands. The room, adorned with the accouterments of recovery, felt both hopeful and desolate.
She carefully placed the plushie on the bedside table with a tenderness reserved for delicate things.
"Hey, Hiro," she murmured softly, her voice a delicate whisper. "I made you this. It's not much, but, you know, it's something. A little friend to keep you company."
"Hey, Hiro," she murmured softly, her voice a delicate whisper. "I made you this. It's not much, but, you know, it's something. A little friend to keep you company."
Nene took a seat beside his bed, her eyes studying his serene yet unresponsive face.
As she sat there, the recent events played like a haunting melody in her mind. The memories of the rampaging villain and the chaos that ensued haunted her thoughts.
"I've been trying to learn this stuff," she confessed, her fingers tracing the contours of the plushie. "Thought about making some for Yui, you know? But I figured you could use a little company too. Hospitals can get kinda lonely."
It was by pure chance that she saw them – Hiro's parents, their faces etched with worry, seated in the hospital's waiting area.
She approached them cautiously, her unease mirrored in the furrow of her brow. The greeting was somber. The tale unfolded – Hiro attacked, left for dead, the brink of life slipping away. A quiver of fear clutched at Nene's insides as she listened, her mind racing through a rollercoaster of emotions.
The revelation hit her like a punch to the gut – a classmate, a friend, in a life-and-death struggle, and she had been oblivious until now. The thought of people she cared about facing danger, or even dying, and her learning about it by sheer happenstance was devastating.
She looked at her friend.
When she first laid eyes on him, Hiro's body was swathed in layers of bandages that obscured the extent of his injuries. Tubes and wires snaked their way across his form, connecting him to several life support machines that hummed and beeped in a haunting symphony.
In the passing days the bandages, like a cocoon unraveling, revealed glimpses of Hiro's recovering body. His skin was etched with scar tissue. One of his hands only having remnants of an index and thumb.
Hiro, a first-year student at Shiketsu High before the gears of fate ground him down a year, stood at the front of the class. His frame, hunched and tense, exuded an air of discomfort.
"The name's Hiro," he mumbled, words barely audible. His eyes, dark pools beneath unkempt hair, darted nervously around the room.
"Hm? I can't hear you." said another student.
"What did he say? I didn't catch that." said a girl sitting at the back.
"Ugh, whatever. Call me however you want. Not like it matters." The air in the room shifted, classmates exchanging furtive glances, uncertain how to respond to this dissonant introduction.
Hiro's body language was that of discomfort. His gaze, averted and elusive, avoided direct contact with his peers. Hiro retreated to his seat.
As he navigated the hallways, his classmates seldom acknowledged his presence. A specter among the crowd, Hiro was neither embraced nor scorned, existing in a muted state of indifference.
Hiro's memories of his first year at Shiketsu were a jumbled mix of awkward interactions, mumbled words, and a perpetual sense of being the odd one out.
Victim to his unkempt appearance and the nature of his quirk, combined with his lack of confidence that made him usually lash out with cynism, Hiro became the kind of student who wasn't hated but wasn't exactly sought out for socializing either. In a way, he preferred it that way. He wasn't there to win a popularity contest; he was there to learn, or so he told himself.
However, one person stood out. Suzuki Nene, a beacon of kindness in Hiro's otherwise solitary world. Her friendly gestures, the occasional shared laughter, and the simple act of acknowledging his existence provided a warmth that Hiro hadn't realized he craved.
Nene's kindness extended beyond mere pleasantries. She would hang out with him, strike up conversations in the hallways, and even invite him to join her for lunch occasionally.
One day, as the two found themselves sitting on the rooftop during lunch, Hiro couldn't shake the gnawing doubt that clawed at his consciousness. The distant laughter and chatter of other students annoyed him even more.
He turned his gaze toward Nene, her features illuminated by the gentle sunlight. "Hey, Nene," he mumbled, uncertainty coloring his voice. She looked at him, her eyes reflecting genuine interest.
"Yeah?" Nene responded, a soft smile on her face.
"Why do you... Why do you bother with me?"
Nene tilted her head, a quizzical expression replacing her smile. "What do you mean, Hiro?"
Hiro's gaze fell, fingers fidgeting with the edges of his lunchbox. "I mean, am I some kind of charity case to you? Pity?" The words spilled out, a bitter admission of his own self-doubt.
Nene's expression shifted from confusion to a gentle understanding. She reached out, placing her hand on Hiro's head. "Hiro, you're not a charity case. I talk to you because I genuinely enjoy your company. You're a friend."
The sincerity in her words sliced through Hiro's defenses. He felt a lump form in his throat, a mixture of gratitude and shame.
Time moved forward, and Hiro found himself navigating the tricky waters of teenage emotions. The rooftop conversations persisted.
One day, fortified by a newfound courage, Hiro decided to lay bare the feelings he had harbored. With a hesitant smile, he confessed to Nene, expressing emotions that had taken root in the recesses of his heart. However, the response he received was not the one he had envisioned.
Nene, with gentle sincerity, declined his confession. To Hiro's credit, he took it in stride, and the rejection didn't fracture their friendship. Hiro accepted it with a maturity that surprised even himself.
As rumors circulated about Hiro's confession and Nene's rejection, curious classmates confronted him. In a rare display of confidence, Hiro responded, "I thought I liked Nene because she was nice to me. Kind of lame now that I look back, don't you think?"
Oddly enough, he found himself getting along better with his classmates, thanks in part to a newfound ease in his interactions. The once awkward outsider became a regular presence in group conversations, where banter and jokes flowed more freely than before.
Once, when talking about appearances and self care, his classmates jokingly asked him why he didn't use his quirk to get rid of the common teenage woes like acne or the pursuit of a more muscular physique. Hiro responded with a smirk, claiming that fixing those "problems" would be like cheating. He wanted to experience the awkwardness and imperfections of youth authentically.
Surprisingly, this unfiltered honesty endeared him to his peers. As his social circle expanded, Hiro found himself hanging out with more of his classmates more regularly.
Nene noticed the change in Hiro, and she couldn't help but feel happy for him. The once-cynical and isolated student seemed to be finding his place.
Everything seemed to be going well until the incident that would change the course of Hiro's life – the vigilantism incident.
A group of thugs had brazenly stolen the register from a convenience store, and as they attempted to escape in their getaway car, they callously struck an elderly woman who happened to be walking by. When Hiro arrived at the scene, he was met with a dire situation.
The old lady's heart rate was erratic, and Hiro, recognizing the severity of the situation, acted on instinct. He knew he had no time for indecision. Drawing on his unique quirk, he secreted a drug designed to cardiovert her irregular rhythm, an impromptu attempt to stabilize her condition and potentially save her life. The woman, a mutant with unique physiological characteristics that would have made normal treatments ineffective, was saved by Hiro's desperate intervention.
With the old lady's immediate health crisis averted, Hiro focused his attention on the fleeing criminals. Pumping himself full of enhancing substances, he embarked on a relentless pursuit. The ensuing confrontation was nothing short of brutal, as Hiro apprehended the thieves with a combination of physical prowess and unbridled ferocity.
Despite the violent means employed to capture the criminals, Hiro's intervention did lead to the arrest of the perpetrators. However, it also marked the beginning of a tumultuous period for him. It had been an act of vigilantism, and unauthorized usage of quirks like his own, which could affect someone's health severely, was considered a grave crime.
Hijack, one of Hiro's teachers, stepped forward as an advocate for him during the subsequent hearings. Recognizing Hiro's potential and perhaps empathizing with the circumstances that led to his drastic actions, Hijack argued that the young student deserved a chance for redemption. As a result, Hiro's punishment was mitigated to a lesser extent – a year held back
After that vigilante mess, Hiro found himself in a state of reflection. He realized that underneath his attempt at being all confident, there was a ton of bottled-up anger and frustration. All those times he thought he was getting better and more confident, he was also pushing down stress, doubt, and anger. His actions were not only driven by the pursuit of justice but also by a turbulent undercurrent of anger and envy.
And, turns out, he harbored a bunch of hate and envy for lots of people. He couldn't shake the bitterness toward those who effortlessly cruised through the social scene, a skill he sorely lacked. It stung to watch them navigate life so effortlessly while he stumbled through the awkwardness.
Then there was the envy, a green-eyed monster that reared its head whenever he crossed paths with someone boasting an actually heroic quirk. Heroes were idolized, their quirks celebrated, while Hiro's screamed "villain" louder than a siren.
Even the seemingly unrelated stuff got under his skin – the handsome ones, the popular ones. A gnawing unease crept in whenever he found himself surrounded by people more attractive or well-liked than him.
He knew it was all wrong. These feelings weren't born out of reason but from the chaotic mix of insecurities swirling within him.
Beneath the layers of frustration and anger, a desire to be the best version of himself persisted. Hiro realized that his journey to becoming a better version of himself wasn't a straight line. It was messy, full of ups and downs.
Now, a first year for the second time, Hiro embraced a newfound resolve – to be true to himself. Some of his cynicism lingered, an old companion refusing to leave, but he consciously steered away from the toxic negativity that had once tainted his perspective. "Fix your life first. Seethe later," became his silent mantra.
His energy shifted towards his studies, channeling his efforts into projects that genuinely aimed to save lives and make a difference.
One day, Hiro came to the profound realization that attending Shiketsu was more than a mere obligation – it was an experience he had grown to cherish. Now having close friends, Hiro found a sense of belonging that surpassed the superficial norms of popularity he entertained before.
He felt a burgeoning, genuine desire to showcase the potential of his quirk for good. The once-maligned ability that marked him as a potential villain could, in fact, be a force for positive change.
But all of that had been destroyed.
That shadowy figure, emerging from the tiniest of remaining memories within him. Its form, ominous and towering. The eyes. The swirling white irises emanating an unnatural glow.
The Symbol of Death.